Hey author here: I wanted to split this chapter into two because it was getting pretty long, but I decided against it. Enjoy the long chapter!
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Seeing the situation spiral toward complete chaos, Chicken forced his anger back down before it could take hold of him. The screams, the blood, the crowd pressing inward from every direction all of it made clear thinking harder. But he knew the truth: the moment he lost control, every one of them would die.
"The reason you did all of this is because you wanted our supplies, isn't it?" he said, his voice level and cold. "Then take them. Let us leave."
The Governor's grin faltered for the first time since the violence had begun. His eyes remained fixed on Dee, but something in Chicken's words had reached him some buried reflex of calculation beneath the madness.
Before the Governor could answer, Chicken tightened his arm across the man's throat, just enough to make him struggle for air.
"But don't push me," Chicken continued, with no heat in his voice at all. "Don't push me so far that I stop thinking rationally and cut your head off right here in front of everyone."
A beat of silence.
"And if that happens," he said quietly, "I'll burn your daughter along with the building."
The change in the Governor's face was immediate.
The madness in his eyes didn't disappear it never fully disappeared but it receded just enough to reveal something underneath it. Something that looked almost human. For the first time in several minutes, the man appeared to be forcing himself back under control.
Even the crowd sensed the shift. The nervous laughter died, replaced by a tense, watching silence as people studied their leader's face.
Chicken held his grip and waited.
After several long seconds, the Governor spoke.
"Stop."
The single word cut across the street like a blade. The armed men immediately backed away from Andrea and Jerry.
Andrea collapsed fully onto the pavement, coughing violently, blood running from the corner of her mouth. One side of her face had already swollen badly. She clutched her ribs while struggling to breathe through the pain. Jerry remained on his knees for a moment, barely conscious, blood dripping steadily from his split lips and broken nose onto the street beneath him.
Lydia broke free from Merle and sprinted toward Andrea, crying hysterically. She threw her arms around her and sobbed without stopping, as though Andrea might disappear the moment she let go.
The Governor drew a slow breath.
"I'm a reasonable person too," he said, his voice rough. "So. We have a deal."
Relief rippled visibly through portions of the crowd.
"You and your people can leave," the Governor continued.
Then he slowly lifted one hand and pointed directly at Dee.
"Except for her."
The hatred returned to his eyes at once, absolute and unveiled. Whatever public mask he'd worn was gone. There was nothing left in his expression now except venom.
He waited.
Chicken stood without speaking. He looked at his group, then at his brother's bloodied face. His gaze moved to Andrea, to little Lydia still weeping against her, and finally settled on Dee.
She looked back at him, the panic plainly written across her face. Then she glanced at her daughter, at the others, and finally at Chicken again and gave a single slow nod.
"Brother, you can't agree to this bullshit!" Jerry shouted from behind him.
"Shut up," Chicken said.
"How can we trust this bastard?" Jerry yelled, ignoring the warning.
The Governor answered him directly, almost pleasantly.
"Whether you trust me is your business. But one thing is certain: that woman is a criminal of Woodbury. She tried to burn our town and steal from us. We will not let her go. As for the rest of you" he glanced out at the crowd "I'll let you leave. I make that promise in front of everyone."
The familiar smile returned. Seeing it, the crowd settled.
He nodded to his men and stepped aside.
Jerry, Andrea, and Lydia moved to stand behind Chicken.
"Deal," Chicken said. "We'll hand her over. But first, those three walk out through the gate. I want to see them clear before anything changes."
"Okay," the Governor agreed. "We have a deal."
Chicken turned to his brother.
"The three of you...go. Now."
Jerry wanted to argue. The look in Chicken's eyes stopped him.
"Please don't leave my mommy!"
Lydia broke from Jerry and ran toward Dee. Jerry caught her before she reached her, lifting her into his arms while she thrashed and wept.
"Let go of me! I want my mommy!"
No one moved to stop them as Jerry and Andrea carried her toward the exit. A moment later, they disappeared through the gate.
Chicken watched until they were gone. Then, and only then, did his shoulders drop slightly.
Even if the Governor broke his word and killed him here, three of them still had a chance. That meant the Lord would find out. And if he did, he'd level this place to the ground.
The thought almost made Chicken smile.
"I think it's time for you to let go of me," the Governor said.
Chicken held on for a few more seconds giving his brother time before finally releasing him.
Immediately, three men forced Dee to the ground.
The Governor stretched his neck slowly, cracking it, and watched Chicken step back. Five men moved into Chicken's path.
"What the f—"
They slammed him to the ground before he could finish and stripped him of his weapon.
"This wasn't the deal!" Chicken shouted.
"Don't look at me like that," the Governor replied, smiling pleasantly. "I set you free. But Woodbury has laws that must be followed."
He turned to face the crowd.
"People of Woodbury.... as promised, I let them go. However, these two—" He pointed at Chicken and Dee. "—are criminals of Woodbury. Their fate will be decided according to our laws."
He signaled Merle Dixon.
Merle stepped forward.
"This man tried to kill our leader," he announced. "And this woman... everyone here knows what she's done. So tell me: what does our law say?"
The crowd went quiet.
Everyone already knew.
Then, from somewhere near the back, a single voice said it.
"Death."
The word spread like fire through dry grass.
"Death... death... DEATH!"
The chant built until it filled the street. The Governor smiled.
His men dragged Dee and Chicken before him and forced them to their knees. Merle handed him a pistol. The Governor accepted it without looking away from them.
"The people have spoken," he said. "I'll carry out the punishment myself."
Dee glared at him with pure hatred.
Chicken said nothing. A faint smile lingered on his face.
The expression seemed to amuse the Governor. He ignored it, raised the gun, and aimed.
Dee watched with rage and beneath the rage, fear. Fear for Lydia. She found herself regretting things she had no time to name.
Her thoughts drifted, strangely, to the Lord.
If he saved this broken world. Would he save a sinner like me?
The Governor's finger tightened on the trigger.
Chicken broke free.
The punch was fast and aimed at the Governor's throat. The Governor ducked and the blow caught him directly in the eye instead.
The Governor screamed. Blood exploded from the wound as he staggered backward, clutching his face.
Chicken was restrained again within seconds.
"Lucky bastard," Chicken said, breathing hard. "At least I took your eye with me."
Roaring, the Governor emptied the pistol into Chicken's body. Shot after shot tore into him. Chicken collapsed.
"Now it's your turn, bitch."
The Governor snatched a second pistol from one of his men and leveled it at Dee. She stared at Chicken's motionless body on the ground.
"Finish it already, one-eyed freak," she said.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
He pulled the trigger.
Chicken surged to his feet.
He grabbed the Governor's arm. The shot struck the ground. The Governor froze. His men stared in disbelief.
Moving fast, Chicken shot the men holding Dee. She scrambled upright.
Before anyone could regroup, a thunderous crash shook the far end of Woodbury.
Everyone turned.
Three vans had smashed through the entrance gate.
Then came the real horror.
Runners poured out more than thirty of them, charging straight into the town.
Panic erupted. The Governor's men opened fire, but chaos spread faster than bullets. The runners tore through the crowd, taking down men, women, the elderly. Children tried to flee. Most didn't make it far. Guards fought desperately to contain the outbreak, but there were too many infected and too many terrified civilians clogging every street.
Wild gunfire filled the air. Some rounds struck townspeople.
Flames erupted near the gate.
A scarred woman stepped forward from the attackers and screamed:
"Kill them all!"
Now trapped between an organized assault and a swarm of runners, even the guards began to panic. They searched the crowd for the Governor.
The Governor wasn't helping them. He was still chasing the criminals.
"How the hell are you still alive?" Dee demanded, running alongside Chicken, who was somehow moving faster than her.
He didn't answer. He pulled down his shirt collar, revealing the bulletproof vest he'd been wearing beneath it the entire time.
"We don't have time. That house, now!"
He sprinted toward a nearby building and Dee followed.
"Who are they?" she asked, glancing back at the attackers cutting through the Governor's men while runners rampaged across the town. "Do you know anything about them?"
"Not a clue," Chicken said. "But one thing's obvious... they just saved our lives."
They ran harder. Bullets snapped past from every direction. Runners closed in from the side streets. They needed walls around them immediately.
Just as they reached the house, a bullet caught Dee in the shoulder.
She cried out and went down.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
The Governor stood behind them, pistol raised.
Chicken drew his own weapon and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Empty.
"Damn my luck."
He threw the empty gun at the Governor's head. The Governor dodged — but before he could recover, Chicken slammed into him. Both men hit the ground hard and traded blows, faces already bloodied, the Governor struggling to free his weapon and Chicken not letting him.
Then the Governor pulled his knife out.
Before he could use it, Dee lunged forward, snatched it from his hand, and pinned his arm to the ground. Chicken grabbed the pistol.
Before he could finish it, several of the Governor's men opened fire from down the street.
Chicken and Dee broke off and ran for the house.
The Governor dragged himself upright, badly hurt, and pointed after them.
"Kill them!"
Before his men could obey, the roar of a heavy engine filled the town. A Humvee came around the corner, its mounted machine gun already firing. The burst tore through the Governor's men, rounds striking the dirt inches from the Governor himself. He dove behind cover.
"Brother! Get in!"
Jerry's voice.
Chicken and Dee sprinted for the vehicle and threw themselves inside. The machine gun kept sweeping the street.
The Governor's remaining men were losing on every front runners, attackers, and former townspeople who had already turned, closing in from every side. Bodies littered the streets. The situation was lost.
The Governor ran toward one of the military vehicles parked near the armory.
"Get to the vehicles!" he ordered.
Fifteen of his surviving men looked up from the chaos around them.
"What about the people?" one of them shouted.
"There's nothing we can do," the Governor said. "The people will hold them off long enough for us to get clear."
Without another word, he ran.
His men followed.
They left the civilians where they stood.
"Please don't leave us!"
"Where are you going?!"
The cries followed them down the street. None of the soldiers turned back. They climbed into the vehicles and prepared to move.
The Governor glanced toward the apartment building. It was engulfed in flames. His daughter was still inside.
For a moment, he considered it. He looked at the streets, the runners, the gunfire, the bodies. The math was simple.
His jaw tightened.
One of his men blew a hole through a wall to the east.
"This way! Move!"
The Governor clenched his fists once, hard, and turned away. He followed his men through the breach, leaving behind the burning town, the screaming civilians, and his dead daughter.
---
"Brother, there's no way out!" Jerry shouted from behind the wheel. "Runners on every street!"
He was right. The attackers near the gate were still firing directly at them, the whole town was burning, and several runners had clawed their way onto the Humvee's exterior. Andrew was working frantically to shoot them clear.
"That wall," Chicken said, pointing. "It looks weak. Drive through it."
He climbed onto the mounted gun and opened fire. The wall cracked under the barrage, concrete chips spraying in all directions.
Jerry floored the accelerator.
The Humvee surged forward. Chicken kept firing, chewing through the wall.
"Watch out!"
A rocket-propelled grenade was already in the air, streaking toward them.
The Humvee smashed through the wall at the same instant. The rocket narrowly missed it struck the ground just behind them and detonated, the blast spinning the vehicle violently. Everyone inside was thrown. The machine gun swung wildly on its mount.
Bullets hammered the body of the Humvee from the left.
More runners rushed from the behind.
"What are you waiting for? Go!"
Jerry shook his head once, blinked hard, and drove.
The Humvee roared away from Woodbury.
Behind them, the town burned gunfire, screams, and black smoke climbing into the sky until there was nothing left to see.
---
"Mommy!"
Lydia threw herself at Dee and squeezed with both arms.
"Ow... easy, don't hug Mommy that hard," Dee winced.
Lydia pulled back immediately. She stared at her mother's bleeding shoulder with wide, frightened eyes.
Andrea was already applying pressure to the wound, though she herself kept coughing blood and wiping it from her lips with the back of her hand.
Chicken looked at his brother's swollen, battered face in the dim interior of the vehicle.
Everyone was in rough shape and they all needed treatment quickly as possible.
"Take us to the Lord," Chicken said as he removed his bulletproof vest.
His entire chest was covered in deep purple bruises.
"Are you okay, bro?" Jerry asked, concern evident in his eyes.
"I got shot seven times in the chest. What do you think?" Chicken replied angrily, groaning in pain. "Luckily, that motherfucker didn't hit my head. Now just drive."
"I've got it," Jerry replied, and kept driving.