The Walking Dead: The Fall of the Governor: Part Two by Robert Kirkman & Jay Bonansinga

Author:Robert Kirkman & Jay Bonansinga [Kirkman, Robert & Bonansinga, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Horror, Movie Tie-Ins, United States, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers
ISBN: 1427243948
Amazon: B00F1RE1XE
Publisher: Thomas Dunne Books
Published: 2014-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

“I feel like we should say something,” Austin ventures an hour later, speaking in a hoarse, exhausted voice, standing on the bank of a dry riverbed, three miles east of the prison, shivering, gazing down at a mass grave. Down in the trench, the bodies lie on top of each other, arms and legs akimbo, bloodstains turning black in the dusky light. The stagnant air swims with gnats and particulate floating through the beams of sunlight canting through the pines.

“I don’t know … yeah, probably we should.” Lilly stands next to him, chewing her fingernails, tendrils of her auburn hair that have come loose from her ponytail hanging down across her sullen face. Her guns are holstered on her hips, and her elbows are scuffed and bloody. Her lower back throbs with pain, her joints twinge with the dull ache of exhaustion, and daggers slice through her gut—the latest wave of cramps taking their toll on her. She sniffs back the agony and stares at the casualties.

Lilly knew all of these men—if not by name, certainly by sight—now stacked like cordwood down in the ditch to avoid adding to the walker population or having one of them end up as lunch for the swarm. These men who passed Lilly on the street in Woodbury from time to time, said hello, tipped their Caterpillar caps at her, winked at her a few times—they weren’t perfect by any means but they were decent, simple men. Some of them—Arlo and Johnny, for example—were sweethearts who shared their rations with Lilly on more than one occasion. Now Lilly feels a vacuum in her soul as she gazes down at them. Darkness presses in on her organs and chokes her as she tries to muster up a eulogy.

“Johnny, Arlo … Ronnie, Alex, and Jake … Evan and … um.” She can’t remember the last young man’s name. She looks helplessly at Austin.

His eyes shimmer with sadness. “Andy.”

Lilly nods. “Andy … right.” She bows her head and tries not to look at the bloodless forms piled in a grisly heap down in the leaves. As her Grandma Pearl would say, “They are just the shells left on the beach … their spirits have flown, dear.” Lilly finds herself wishing she believed in God. How could anybody believe in a loving deity in times like these? But it would be nice. Lilly swallows back the bitter anguish and softly says, “Each and every one of you gave your lives for a higher purpose … to protect your community … you gave your all.” Her voice weakens slightly, the weight of exhaustion dragging on her body. “Here’s hoping you’re in a better place now. May you all rest in peace.”

A long moment of silence follows, broken only by the distant, lonely call of a heron. Lilly senses the presence of others standing downstream, and she gazes to the south.

About fifty yards away lurks a dark figure standing on the edge of the trees—eye patch, missing arm, coal-black body armor—grimacing as he stares into the trees across the creek bed.

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