We quickly set off to Woodbury.
We made sure to always keep a lookout and to stick to the treelines to minimize our chances of being discovered.
Thankfully, there were only five of us, making sneaking around a lot easier than moving in a group of a dozen.
Forty-something minutes later, we arrived in the periphery of Woodbury.
We could see the jury-rigged walls from our position.
Upon seeing them, we stopped for a while to assess the exact location of where the snipers were perched.
I unshouldered my pack and grabbed my binoculars to take a closer look at Woodbury.
Rick and Shane followed suit, pulling out their own optics.
From where I was watching, I could see three snipers that were visible.
One was in a makeshift lookout tower near the main gate.
The second was positioned on top of a coral-colored building roof behind the wall.
The last was perched on top of a water tower on the edge of Woodbury.
That last one had me worried the most because he virtually had a 360-degree field of vision, making getting close to him nearly impossible without being spotted.
Plus, I didn't know if there were other hidden snipers on the far sides of the perimeter—I was sure there were.
The Governor may be a psychopath asshole, but he sure as hell wasn't stupid.
Clearing my mind, I spoke up, keeping my voice low. "Three snipers spotted. One's on top of that makeshift watchtower in front."
I pointed through the low branches.
"The second's on top of that coral-colored building right over there."
I pointed out its location.
"The last is worrying, to say the least. You see that water tower?"
I pointed at the rather conspicuous structure.
"He's on top of it."
I handed my binoculars to Daryl, while Rick did the same to Merle, letting them take a look.
"Yeah, I also spotted three," Rick spoke up, lowering his hands. "That last one is going to be a pain to take down."
"You can say that again," Shane murmured, spitting into the dry dirt.
I turned to the four of us and laid out the next move. "We need a full headcount of the snipers before we make a move. We don't want a stray shooter taking a shot at our backs while we're busy taking down the visible ones."
I pointed toward the eastern ridge running along the tree line.
"Daryl, Merle, Shane—you three take the east perimeter. Circle around, check the sightlines from the tree line, and see if there are any blind spots or extra watch posts on the back side."
I then pointed toward the opposite direction, looking at Rick.
"Rick and I will take the west side near the old train tracks. We check for hidden snipers on the rotted rooftops, map out where the wall is weakest, and figure out a clean path up that water tower."
I looked each of them in the eye.
"Don't engage anyone. Don't pull a blade unless a walker steps right on your boot. We meet back right at this exact spot in twenty minutes, figure out the total number of snipers, then we regroup."
The guys nodded without a word and split up according to the plan.
Rick and I kept low, ducking behind thick pine trunks and rusting car frames that lined the old railway bed on the west side of the settlement.
We moved inch by inch, keeping our boots light on the dry gravel so we didn't make a sound.
I stopped every few feet, raising my binoculars to peer through the gaps in Woodbury's wall.
Up close, their perimeter was a mess of old pickup trucks, wooden pallets, heavy tires, and corrugated metal sheets welded together.
It looked tough from a distance, but up close, it had plenty of gaps.
As we crept closer to the train tracks, I spotted a fourth lookout.
He was sitting on top of an old yellow school bus that had been shoved right into a gap in the fence.
He was leaning back against a metal frame, a bolt-action rifle resting across his knees, casually drinking out of a plastic canteen. He looked bored out of his mind.
"Got one on the bus," I whispered to Rick, tapping his arm.
Rick raised his binoculars, looking through the brush. "I see him. He's not looking this way. His focus is entirely on the dirt road out front."
We kept moving along the west line until we got a clear shot at the back of the water tower.
Up close, it was even worse than I thought.
The metal ladder went straight up the side, completely exposed to the main street below.
The guy sitting up top had a sandbag wall built around the platform, giving him cover from every angle except from directly underneath.
"Getting to that guy is going to take a suppressed shot from the tree line," Rick whispered, lowering his body into the high grass. "Nobody's climbing that ladder without getting seen from the street."
"We'll let Daryl take that shot," I said. "He's got the cleanest aim with a bow from fifty yards out."
We finished mapping the west side, making mental notes of the guard we found and the difficult situation of the sniper perched on top of the water tower, before turning around and slipping quietly back through the brush toward our starting point.
Meanwhile, on the east side, Daryl, Merle, and Shane were having similar luck.
They stuck to the dense pine woods, keeping off the red dirt paths.
Daryl led the way, being mindful to not step on a branch on the ground.
Merle kept his scoped rifle low, scanning the higher roofs inside the town, while Shane kept his hand resting on his sidearm, watching their rear.
They found a fifth sniper hidden on top of an old grain silo tucked behind the Governor's main office building.
The guy had a gray tarp pulled over his head to block the sun, making him almost impossible to spot unless you were really looking.
Merle had grinned, nudging Shane in the ribs and pointing up at the silo.
Shane just grunted, making a note of the location before waving for them to fall back.
They didn't linger.
They finished their loop around the eastern fence line, confirmed no other lookouts were there, and turned straight back to the rendezvous point.
(To be continued...)