After Glenn and the others escorted the Woodbury residents back, they heard Rick had woken up and came to visit him. While they were there, they told him what they had seen and heard over the past few days.
Andrea dragged her finger across the tabletop, distracted as she recalled everything she had witnessed.
"Calista and her team move fast. Operation Decapitation wasn't even a battle. It was a clean sweep."
Rick closed his eyes and tried to imagine it.
From Andrea's description, Rock Fortress had dealt with the Governor as easily as clearing out an ordinary herd of walkers.
"How long?" Rick opened his eyes.
Andrea froze for a second. "How long what?"
"From the start of the operation to the end. How long?"
"Half an hour," Glenn answered without hesitation.
The room filled with sharp intakes of breath.
Sasha leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh.
"That ally of yours is terrifyingly strong. So now we're neighbors with a bunch of super soldiers."
"No. Not soldiers." Glenn shook his head, searching for the right word. "They're... a military unit.
"No heroics. Everyone knows their role, and everyone trusts their teammates to do their part."
Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look.
Maggie gave a small nod. Glenn took a deep breath, leaned forward, and continued.
"What we saw at Blackberry Ranch was the same kind of thing, but more... normal for them."
Maggie picked up from there. "They have agricultural zones, industrial zones, and livestock zones. They use crop rotation, and they have professionals from all kinds of fields."
Carol let out a soft sound. She had been managing the prison's vegetable garden for months, and she knew exactly how hard it was to maintain crop yields after the world ended.
"What about water?" Hershel asked, getting straight to the key point. "How do they handle irrigation?"
"The base has a complete water system," Maggie said, speaking faster now. "They pump water from a nearby tributary of the Tennessee River. It's not only used for irrigation. They can generate electricity with it too, and they even have bathrooms."
The word "bathrooms" caused a small stir in the room.
"Keep going," Rick said.
Maggie bit her lower lip.
"They also have a medical room. Not like ours, where we converted the prison infirmary. A real medical room.
"They have surgical lights, shadowless lamps, anesthesia machines, and ECG monitors. And they don't just have one doctor. They have a medical team."
"They also have a school and a library," Glenn added. "Every child under fifteen at the base has to attend classes.
"Math, biology, history, survival skills, regular exams. It's almost exactly like before the world fell apart.
"Every resident can borrow books from the library for free using their ID card. The place is full of books and materials from nearby middle schools and universities."
"What's an ID card?" Rick asked, catching a term he had never heard before.
Maggie said softly, "It's part of Rock Fortress's basic system, Rick.
"Everyone works, but no more than eight hours a day. The base has a rotating rest system.
"They quantify every job and position into points. Every resident has an ID card that records the contribution points they earn from daily labor, and those points can be exchanged for all kinds of things.
"It's like money before the world ended."
"Who manages all of that, Maggie?" Hershel asked the crucial question. "I mean, agriculture, industry, livestock, school, the library... How many people does that take? How can they maintain all of that and defend themselves at the same time?"
Glenn and Maggie looked at each other, then said the same thing at once.
"Because they have a lot of people."
Maggie said, "Rock Fortress has more than a thousand people now, Dad."
A thousand people.
The number made the room fall completely silent.
A thousand people and a hundred people were worlds apart.
"And there's training," Glenn continued after a moment. "Every adult, no matter what their main job is, has to complete ten hours of military training every week.
"Not our kind of 'pick up a gun and shoot' training. Systematic training. Fitness, hand-to-hand combat, firearms, squad coordination, emergency medical care.
"It might not be fully professional, but at least when danger comes, they won't freeze up..."
"So they can grow food and kill people."
"Yes. And they're good at both."
Rick slowly pushed himself upright.
The air in the room suddenly felt too heavy, too thick, making it hard for him to breathe.
"All of this," he said, looking dazed, "Calista mentioned it before, but..."
But he had thought she was exaggerating.
He had thought it was a leader making her territory sound better than it was.
He had assumed it was, at most, a survivor camp a little better than the prison. Maybe higher walls, maybe more people, but essentially the same thing.
He had been wrong.
Completely wrong.
"The gap," Hershel said quietly, reading Rick's thoughts, "isn't small. It's... a chasm."
"Calista and her people are rebuilding civilization," Dale said, his voice thick with emotion and tears gathering in his eyes. "We're just trying not to become walkers."
The words struck Rick in the chest like a heavy blow.
...
Late that night, Rick jolted awake from shallow sleep.
Carl was asleep on the bed across from him, breathing evenly.
Rick carefully sat up, trying not to pull at his wound.
He needed to move. He needed to get out of this room.
The prison corridors felt especially empty at night.
Rick walked slowly through the common area and saw several new Woodbury residents curled up in sleeping bags. They had been placed there temporarily while waiting for assigned quarters.
Rick kept walking until he reached the farmland.
The plot Hershel had carefully maintained looked small and fragile under the moonlight.
Tomato vines climbed simple wooden frames, and lettuce sat in a few crooked rows.
They cheered for every harvest and celebrated the apple trees that would bear fruit next year.
But what about the greenhouses Glenn had described? Year-round production? Crop rotation?
And beyond that, there were countless other small differences.
Rick leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes. A deep exhaustion seeped out from his bones.
For the past two years, he had been like Sisyphus pushing a boulder uphill. Every time he thought he was nearing the top, the stone rolled back down, crushing his people and forcing him to start over.
The Governor was dead, but the Governor had existed.
Where was the next Governor? What would the next threat be? Could they really keep getting lucky?
"Rick. Can't sleep?"
Rick turned and saw Hershel standing at the end of the corridor.
"My wound hurts," Rick lied.
Hershel slowly walked over and stood beside him at the infirmary doorway.
"Glenn and Maggie are arguing. Loud enough that I can't sleep either. When you get old, sleep comes light," he said calmly, with a touch of helplessness.
Rick looked at him.
"Not shouting. More like... a tense argument. They're behind the warehouse, thinking no one can hear them." Hershel sighed. "Maggie wants to go to Rock Fortress."
"What about Glenn?" Rick asked, his voice so calm it surprised even him.
"Glenn can't let go of this place. He can't let go of you, or the group." Hershel paused. "He says this place needs him, and he wants to convince Maggie to stay."
"This place needs everyone, Hershel," Rick said with a sigh.
...
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