Day 854

"You have the project, we have the know-how; Howe's."

A pre-recorded female voiceover echoed through the empty hall of a repurposed hardware store. Rapid footsteps could be heard as several guards sprinted aimlessly in search of the noise. While the welcoming voice of the announcer would not have been questioned over two years ago, it was a death sentence now.

Sound drew the attention of the undead.

Footsteps continued to echo around the room, then stopped. Muffled conversations were heard, and then someone spoke up. "Let's… no! I-I'll go up there an' shut that thing off!"

One of the guards left the group, the owner of the voice running up the steps to what had presumably been the manager's office when this had been a simple DIY store. As he did so, the leader of the settlement spoke to another of his men. "Tyler!" Carver commanded, "I assume this is the doing of those in the pen; I'll stop them escaping. You get Troy, send him to the stockroom, and then go to the roof and dispose of what's outside."

Tyler nodded and turned to sprint away, but was briefly cut off by his leader. "You do what I told you; don't run. Now fucking go."

The guard nodded once more, and ran down the nearest aisle, trying to remember where Troy kept himself buried whenever he wasn't on duty. The clamour had woken most of the guards up, but Troy had a thicker head than most and was more of a deep sleeper. Tyler could instantly recall the many times Carver had kicked the shit out of the man for having lie-ins.

As he passed the 'pen,' the ex-garden centre which Carver referred to as a 'refuge for strong-willed or otherwise unruly community members', Tyler noticed the gate had been pushed all the way up. Carver was right; the people who had been inside were there no longer. Tyler didn't have time to worry, though, because that wasn't what he had been told to do. He needed to get Troy.

He picked up the pace, but heard a shot coming from Carver's office. Hank had gone up there minutes ago; he must have dealt with whoever had turned the voiceover on and would be coming back down any minute now. Everything would be fine.

Then another shot rang through the air. Instantly Tyler knew things had not gone to plan. Either Hank was just shooting the intruder in the head to stop them coming back, or the intruder was fighting back and had shot him.

Again, Tyler tried to keep his head down and get to Troy. In the chaos, he had completely forgotten where Troy 'lived' and had been aimlessly running around aisles, but now he remembered. Troy slept in a small room behind the help desk. Tyler could never work out what those rooms were for before the world went to shit, and he'd never been in Troy's place before, so he still didn't. Though he'd have to face what was known as Troy's "wake-up-wrath," at least he'd finally work out what the point of that damn room was.

Once he reached the door, he couldn't help but notice a faded rectangle on the door, presumably where a sign had once sat, with the word "Troy" scrawled on it in some sort of marker pen. Tyler gathered his courage, and then thumped the door three times before standing back, only to have no response.

Tyler thumped the door again, harder this time, but again, no response. The voiceover still echoed in the hall. Hank was probably dead. People had escaped the pen. What the fuck was going on?

Tyler grimaced and stepped back, then attempted to shoulder-barge the door. All that he succeeded in doing was gain a dull ache in his upper arm. The pain was minor, and would go away in a minute, but the desperation of the situation finally got to him.

"For fuck's sake Troy, get your fucking ass out here!" He yelled.

It took a few seconds, but the door finally swung open. Troy staggered out with a stare of complete disdain covering his face. "What the fuck do you want, asshole?" He asked, running a hand through his mess of hair. "What the fuck is that noise? Why in the goddamn fuck are you waking me up?"

Tyler stared back. "I don't fuckin' know, all I know is Bill wants you to help him."

"Bill wants me to help him?" Troy laughed, scratching his right cheek. "Bill fuckin' wants my help? I helped Bill enough today. Fuckin' hit that little bitch with the hat while he beat the shit out of the beard guy. Now that was a fuckin' sight." His face was twisted into a grin, but Tyler could see in his eyes that he hadn't enjoyed watching a man being beaten half to death. Troy put up a tough front, but he wasn't exactly brave. People often confused bravery with his stupidity. "Anyway, what the fuck did he want?"

Tyler's shoulders sagged. "All of 'em escaped the pen. Bill wants you in the stockroom."

"For real? No fuckin' way," Troy's eyes widened in disbelief as he continued. "Bet it was Jane. Fuckin' bitch. Fuckin' crazy bitch. Or that kid with the hat, she's been doin' shit and actin' up the whole fuckin' time she's been here. I swear, when I get to 'em, they're all fuckin' dead. Jane, Hat Kid, Luke, Doc, all those fuckers. Y'know what? Fuck Bill. I'm gonna deal with them myself. Anyone checkin' on the homestead?"

"Not that I know of; I can't, I have to get to the roof."

"Well, who fuckin' cares about them anyway?"

With that, Troy lifted his AK-47 from where it had been resting against the wall and half-sprinted, half-staggered in the direction of the stockroom. Tyler briefly looked past him and realised his living space had once been the room filled with screens which were linked up to the security cameras.

Tyler was torn. He had to go to the roof as Carver had instructed, but no one was checking on the Homestead where the civilians lived. Having a slightly stronger moral compass than Troy, Tyler felt the need to go and check on the helpless even if he couldn't do anything to aid them.

The majority of civilians were housed in a courtyard in the centre of a series of stores. Howe's Hardware was situated at the front and backed onto the courtyard, the other sides composed of smaller stores that leeched off of the customers who originally came for DIY equipment. Many families and civilians were housed in different stores, though a couple were empty, such as Victor's Comics, and were used as a quick way for guards to easily reach the outer perimeter.

As Tyler exited the solar-powered automatic doors that led to the homestead, he was met with the sight of some, but not all, of the civilians. At the front of the crowd of about ten was a man by the name of Vince. Tyler remembered him because he had somewhat of a short fuse and a sarcastic personality, and for some reason, didn't trust himself with an assault rifle.

Vince immediately stormed up to Tyler, getting in his face. "What the fuck is that noise?" he growled "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Tyler backed up. "Look, I don't know what the fuck that noise is, but we're dealing with it."

"'Dealing with it'?! Bill's said too many times that there's a herd on its way and this is only going to make things worse! It's been almost ten minutes; how is it not shut off yet?!"

"Hank was supposed to be dealing with it," Tyler admitted. "I ain't even supposed to be checking on everyone, Bill told me to go to the damn roof and deal with the lurker problem. I just need to tell all you guys to stay here, you can't go out because it's too dangerous."

A woman stepped forward. "Will we be any safer inside? I've seen the outer walls; they can't take a herd pounding against them. Some of us have families to look after and I don't think they'll be safe here."

A murmur of approval swept through the small group of civilians. "Look, I don't know," Tyler admitted, realising he had dug himself into a rather large hole, "Just, stay in here. I need to get to the roof and help sort out the lurkers."

"Look, dude, you've got stuff to do," said a man with unruly hair and a straw-like beard. "I've been doing shifts as a guard and I know another guy who is too. You deal with the walkers and we'll try and help everyone down here. We'll stay in the centre of the homestead and make sure no walkers get through the outer walls."

Tyler nodded. "Sounds like a plan, I'll get up there and try and come back later."

"You do that." Vince grimaced.

Tyler turned and ran back into the DIY store, leaving Vince, the other guard, and the rest outside. He quickly ascended the gantries that sat atop each aisle and found the ladder that lead to the roof, hearing muffled gunfire all the while. Pushing a skylight open, he was instantly met with someone shoving a weapon into his hands. "Where's Bill?" He asked.

The person who had gifted him the weapon shrugged frantically and spoke as he turned to head back to the edge of the roof. "We need him up here!" He gestured towards the roof and then pointed to another guard named Tavia. Tyler filled the gap between the two and began to fire. The walkers below moved rhythmically, swaying as they staggered towards the voiceover which still lingered in the air. The pungent smell of decaying human flesh filled the air. Tyler's hands hurt from gripping the AK-47. He grimaced and stopped firing, knowing they'd all run out of ammunition soon enough and then they'd all be screwed. He was going to die here. All the people in the Homestead were going to die, all because those prisoners couldn't stay in their pen.

Tyler growled, his hands sore, and put his finger back on the trigger. Lifting his weapon, he aimed at a walker wearing a yellowish flannel shirt, pointed the barrel at the back of its head, and fired.