As the commotion in the basent died down, the group's pace slowed as well. After all, climbing up from below is exhausting. Nowadays—unless you travel with a large crowd—burning through your stamina is a mistake; you need to be ready for anything at any mont.
Jason's eyes kept sweeping the sides of the street, yet the danger he expected never appeared.
"Maybe I'm over‑thinking this."
He knew his mind tended to jump to conclusions, so he never voiced his worries until he was sure. After a while, however, a walker suddenly stumbled out of an alley—followed by many more.
Whistle!
Jason whistled to warn the people loading boxes. When they turned and saw the walkers, they dropped the crates and drew the knives and machetes at their belts.
Daryl swung his crossbow down from his back, took aim, and fired. The bolt punched through the walker's eye socket, its brain splattering out the back as the corpse toppled.
In monts the first walker was down, but the sound drew the rest toward Jason's crew.
With the horde closing in, it was impossible to keep hauling supplies. Jason loosened the dium‑sized axe at his waist and walked calmly toward an approaching walker.
Aaron and the others watched in disbelief—why did these people insist on killing walkers with blades? Wouldn't guns be easier? Yet the fighters were already moving away, and all they could do was follow.
Jason struck first. His axe blurred and bit into the skulls before him, and the rest of the group quickly t their own targets.
Maggie and Michonne each wielded a knife, slicing precisely through nearby walkers. In no ti three corpses lay at their feet.
Aaron's team hacked clumsily at a few walkers but soon grew more confident; close contact taught them that the undead were nothing more than dead flesh among the living.
Blades flashed, and the number of walkers kept dropping. Heath fought hard, adrenaline surging. None of the monsters everyone feared lasted more than a single blow, and he kept pressing forward without noticing.
High on the rush, Heath edged ahead of the line. Glenn, to one side, saw he'd drifted out of position and tried to pull him back.
At that mont a walker heading for Glenn found Heath first, turned its decaying head, and lunged. Its reeking mouth gaped, eager to taste living flesh.
Heath, still riding the thrill, saw darkness suddenly fill his vision. He turned—and the walker was on him. Terror froze him for an instant as the creature slamd him to the ground.
His mind went blank, hovering on the brink of death. From deep inside, raw survival instinct surged and he shoved the walker away.
Bang!
Thwip!
A gunshot rang out, followed by the sick sound of punctured flesh. A bullet hole appeared in the walker's skull, and a crossbow bolt pierced from the other side.
Heath heaved the corpse aside and scrambled to his feet. He caught sight of Jason re‑holstering his gun and returning to the fight, and of Daryl calmly reloading his crossbow.
The brush with death made Heath's heart pound. His hands shook uncontrollably, the knife almost slipping from his grasp.
Glenn, seeing Heath was safe, helped him up and said,
"Stay in formation when we're dealing with walkers. Don't break off on your own."
Heath nodded, still shaken. He wanted to keep fighting, but his hands trembled so badly he crouched, gripping his wrist, and couldn't help looking toward Jason.
Jason, anwhile, ignored formation entirely. He sprinted ahead alone, his body moving with fluid precision. No matter how many walkers closed in, every one fell beneath his axe. In his other hand, he occasionally fired his pistol to drop any that crept too close.
After roughly ten minutes the small horde—hundreds strong—was finally wiped out. Jason glanced around and smiled when he saw everyone still standing.
Daryl walked over to Heath and reminded him,
"Be more careful next ti. Help collect my bolts."
Heath nodded and began retrieving the arrows from walker skulls. He'd gotten so carried away he'd forgotten his own safety.
After apologizing, he thanked Jason and Daryl again—grateful their split‑second actions had saved his life.
"Ha, get used to it," Daryl said. "Sooner or later we're all in danger, and soone in the group does whatever it takes to pull us out."
"Enough chatter," Jason added. "Let's move those supplies. Feel like taking on another horde?"
"Let's finish up—fast!"
Heath and the others shouted in unison—only then realizing that, bit by bit, they had begun to see this rag‑tag bunch as a real team.
Everyone hustled back to the crates, and within five minutes the remaining supplies were loaded into the vehicles.
Soon afterward the convoy rolled out, headed back to the sanctuary.
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