They slowly emerged from the treeline, taking form amidst the swaying leaves and branches, and shuffled into the clearing. “Rick: climb down and go find Stew—”
“I’m eating.”
“Rick. You know those things we’re supposed to watch for while we’re on watch?”
Rick turned and lifted his head to look over the parapet’s edge. “Fuck. All right.”
By the time Rick and Stewart emerged from the longhouse there were more than a dozen zombies headed across the clearing, and more appearing from within the trees every minute. He stage-whispered down to Stewart, “Will somebody hand me up a goddamn crossbow?”
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