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Chapter 97 - In Action
Prison, west of Georgia, at the top of a watchtower.
Daniel was sitting at the top of a watchtower. His face said it all: utter boredom. With his rifle resting on the edge, he slowly scanned the forest through the scope, lacking any enthusiasm. The area was calm. Too calm, actually. No walkers or people were approaching anymore; the prison had become a completely isolated fortress.
The forest, once thick and lush, had been largely cleared. At least one hundred meters of trees around the outer perimeter had disappeared, leaving a wide clearing between the vegetation and the first wire fence.
That decision, made some time ago, had been key. It offered a clean and wide field of view, ideal for snipers stationed in towers like himself.
Jason, as the leader of the prison, had considered that while the trees could offer some protection, they also dangerously blocked visibility. It was like closing your eyes just before an ambush. That's why he ordered the area cleared with simple and effective methods, also considering future expansions of the settlement.
Today, the watchtowers were so tall that they rose above most of the remaining trees. Although they couldn't see clearly to the south due to the terrain's relief, the view from that side remained excellent thanks to the intensive clearing.
The surveillance system worked in shifts, always with trained personnel. This time it was Daniel's turn. He looked at his watch: almost noon. He was about to ease up a bit, maybe take a break, when something caught his attention in the scope.
"What the hell...?" Daniel muttered as he noticed something that had never happened before.
Several figures suddenly appeared in his field of view. They were moving carefully between the trees, unaware that they were completely exposed.
Thanks to the camouflage at the top of the tower, Daniel could see them clearly without being detected. Through the scope, he adjusted the focus and began to count.
One... two... three... seven in total.
What caught his attention the most was a dark-skinned woman, tied up, being carried by one of them. Daniel squinted.
"Shit..." Daniel muttered quietly.
The situation was clear: all the others were armed to the teeth. Except for the woman, the rest were an obvious threat.
Realizing things were more complicated, Daniel immediately took the radio on his bed and reported the situation: "Zz... This is Eye 1. There's an armed group approaching from the west road. Seven individuals. One appears to be a hostage... I have them in my sights! Proceed with caution."
"Received, Eye 1! Stay alert." Tyler, from a central communications tower, immediately began issuing orders one after the other.
The entire prison sprang into action. The watchtowers were reinforced with extra personnel. The workers who were in the outer fields were immediately pulled back, and all doors were sealed as a protocol.
In less time than it takes to sing a rooster's song, a level-one alert was activated: an external threat with unknown firepower had been detected. That meant no one was to be outdoors, and an attack team would handle the situation.
A group of ten people with level-two clearance was deployed without delay, led by Merle, who left the premises immediately. He was in his prime. Since he decided to follow Jason, his attitude had changed significantly. Though still tough, his character had been tempered... except when things got ugly. That was when compassion disappeared from his behavior.
But over time, Merle had earned the group's respect. He'd shown that he could survive, that he could make tough decisions without flinching. In this world, morality was a luxury few could afford. And Merle understood that better than anyone.
His brother Daryl also played a key role. He often went hunting, bringing fresh meat for the settlement. Sometimes he even captured live animals to raise them. Both, in their own way, helped keep the group's food supply stable.
Thanks to that, people began to look at the Dixon brothers with different eyes. Merle, especially, began to feel something he never thought he'd need: admiration. For the first time, he was respected for just being himself. That silent recognition became a driving force that improved his performance in every mission.
Who doesn't want to be accepted for who they really are? Although some fool themselves, everyone seeks the same thing: to be seen, to be valued. Sure, there are people who hate cats for no reason... and who's to say in this world they wouldn't hate you just for thinking differently?
But in this new order, public opinion stopped mattering long ago. People no longer lived by what others thought. Here, everyone is free to be who they are... or who they need to be to survive.
As soon as Merle led the response team out of the prison, he contacted Daniel in the watchtower for updated information. Thanks to Daniel's precise instructions, Merle easily located the enemy group's position.
"Damn vest..." Merle muttered as he moved through the trees. "How the hell can this thing weigh so much?"
Around him, the rest of the team kept a firm pace, alert to any movement. The distance to the enemy group was steadily shrinking. When they were just over one hundred meters away, Merle raised a hand and stopped dead in his tracks. He took that moment to quickly explain the action plan.
After giving the instructions, only Jim and a man named Marcos remained by his side. The others dispersed in formation, surrounding the area silently.
"We're going to kick ass." Merle said with a half-smile before charging forward with determination.
Meanwhile, Martínez's group advanced through the forest, unaware of what was coming. Every step they took was accompanied by the crackling of dry branches under their feet, the sound betraying their position with each movement. Although the environment seemed calm, something in Martínez's instinct told him they were on the right path.
One of the things that made him suspicious was the almost total absence of walkers. Since entering the forest, they had barely encountered one or two. To him, that could only mean one thing: someone was regularly clearing the area. And where there's clearing... there's life.
What Martínez didn't know was that they had already fallen into a trap. Behind them, one of the walkers who seemed to be wandering among the trees suddenly stopped. It took off its hood, pulled a small radio from its pocket, and spoke quietly: "This is attack command. The group is entering my position. Seven operatives. Confirmed, a dark-skinned woman is a hostage."
"Copy that, Viktor. Move and support Captain Merle with the interception."
"Understood."
Without wasting any time, Viktor put the radio away, took a step forward, and disappeared among the trees, ready to close the trap.
Ignoring the walkers who weren't heading in his direction due to his camouflage, Viktor pulled his hood back on and moved behind Martínez's group.
A dozen meters ahead, Martínez raised the weapon in his hand, his gaze sharp, and signaled for those behind him to spread out while he slowly walked more cautiously behind the others.
The people around him were getting more and more nervous, aiming their weapons while watching every movement in the surroundings. However, none of them realized that Michonne had slowed her pace and was now behind the group. Her eyes had regained their color, and she fixed her gaze on the rope in Crowley's hands while looking for an opportunity to escape that group.
They all continued walking forward, each with their mind full of assumptions about what might happen. But just when they thought they were alert enough, a hoarse voice from a man sounded right in front of them: "Hey, stop right here, at this point, in this place, and at this moment! If I were you, I wouldn't keep moving forward."
"Who are you?" The sudden voice startled the entire group. Unable to see where it was coming from, they all, without thinking, held their weapons and aimed them forward, in the direction of the voice.
"I'm the ranger of this area. Damn invaders, get off my playground." It was Merle who spoke, and soon after, he appeared behind a large tree, grinning as he observed the people approaching the prison.
Michonne was the first to react to the distraction of everyone, and Merle's appearance only made her act faster. Her gaze, which had previously been fixed on Crowley's hands, now focused on the rope he was holding, tied to his body.
At that moment, when Crowley raised the weapon, panicked, the rope in his hands was only held by one of his hands, and Michonne was sure she could escape.
Under no circumstances did she want to lose this opportunity, so she tensed her muscles and leaped backward, pulling the rope with force. Crowley only felt the burning of the rope on his hand before letting it go, and the weapon he had also fell to the ground.
"Ash!" In one swift motion, Michonne freed herself from Crowley's grip.
Feeling the burning in his palm, Crowley had no time to worry about the pain. He quickly grabbed the weapon from the ground, and just as he was about to shoot Michonne, his movements froze.
Although Michonne had separated from Crowley, she didn't expect to lose her balance and fall to the ground. By the time it took Crowley to raise his weapon, Michonne stepped back until she felt her back hit a figure. Looking up, she found a bloodied person, but the most curious thing was that they were holding a weapon and didn't appear to be a walker.
Merle, who had been watching the entire process, grinned with a fake smile. He had originally wanted to joke around a little more with these people, but he couldn't help but watch as the black-skinned woman escaped the hands of those idiots. When he saw Crowley try to shoot, he knew he couldn't waste any more time.
"I told you to stop, bitches!" Merle's exaggerated shout instantly caught everyone's attention. Turning around, they stopped, and Martínez stepped forward, saying in confusion, "Are you telling us to stay still? But you're holding a banana, and your weapon is on your back."
Merle grinned, showing a mouth full of yellowed teeth, and it was then that Martínez felt something wasn't right. And indeed, Merle spoke again, this time loudly: "Everyone! Don't be shy, let's greet our guests properly."
As soon as Merle finished speaking, a group of people appeared from the surroundings and slowly surrounded Martínez's group. Crowley, who had lowered his weapon a while ago, showed a nervous expression.
Soon, Michonne, who was about to be killed, found herself face-to-face with a scout who had come from behind the group and intervened suddenly. Seeing how the situation was unfolding, Martínez smiled ironically, dropped the weapon in his hands without resistance, and then turned his head to look at the others.
"Put down the weapon!"
Several fully equipped individuals surrounded Martínez's group, and they, unable to do anything, lowered their weapons.
Merle signaled one of his men to bring Michonne to his side. When she was brought closer, Merle stared at her and said, "Tell me, honey, why were you tied up? They must have treated you like an animal. Now you're safe."
Michonne had no time to pay attention to Merle's ridiculous words. She just turned her gaze toward Martínez's group, and they began to feel fear about what she was about to say.
"Because they killed my friend! They want to take me back, and most likely, it's to torture me or do something else unimaginable to me!"