Chapter 109: Burning Corpses in the Mine
Atlanta's skyline was barely visible through the morning mist, like an old watercolor painting left out in the rain.
Daryl crouched atop an abandoned apartment building, binoculars pressed against his eye.
He hadn't moved in nearly two hours.
The street below was one he knew well.
Two months ago, it had been packed with walkers so densely that the pavement was completely hidden beneath them.
Now it was empty.
Not the kind of empty that came after a successful cleanup.
The kind of empty that came when something had simply left.
The walkers were abandoning the city.
Not dozens.
Not hundreds.
But thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Perhaps even more.
They poured out of alleyways, emerged from shattered storefronts, and staggered from abandoned buildings.
Like countless streams joining together, they formed a vast gray tide flowing southward.
Daryl tracked a walker in a red jacket through his binoculars.
It shuffled near the front of the herd, moving with unusual purpose.
Behind it came a woman in a blue dress.
Behind her was a half-naked corpse with dark, shriveled skin.
One after another, the scattered dead merged into a single moving mass.
Daryl lowered the binoculars and rubbed his aching eyes.
Then he looked again.
No mistake.
They were leaving.
There was nothing left in Atlanta.
No survivors.
No prey.
The city had become a graveyard too empty even for the dead.
The herd wasn't wandering aimlessly.
It had a destination.
Daryl picked up his radio.
"Merle, Atlanta's walkers are leaving the city."
Static crackled.
"They're heading south. So many I can't even see the end of them."
Outside the city, Merle immediately sat upright in his Humvee.
"You sure?"
He grabbed his binoculars and looked toward the horizon.
What he saw made him curse.
A gray-white ocean of corpses stretched across the highway.
The dead spilled over abandoned vehicles, railroad tracks, and barricades as though none of them existed.
Merle started the engine and sped toward Daryl's position.
By the time he arrived, Daryl had already descended from the rooftop.
His motorcycle idled nearby.
The two vehicles quickly moved out.
One motorcycle.
One Humvee.
They circled the edge of the migrating herd like hunters tracking a wounded beast.
Walkers along the perimeter turned toward the sound of their engines.
"They're searching for food," Daryl reported over the radio.
"Tell the Boss there's nothing left in Atlanta. The dead either hibernate or move on. These chose to move."
Merle accelerated ahead of the herd and glanced into his rearview mirror.
The sea of corpses stretched all the way to the horizon.
Then he switched frequencies.
CDC Headquarters
Wu Fan was reviewing Hershel's latest agricultural proposal when the radio suddenly crackled to life.
Merle's voice carried an urgency Wu Fan rarely heard.
"Boss. Atlanta's walkers have left the city."
"They're heading south."
"Millions of them."
Wu Fan immediately stood.
Walking to the wall map, he traced Atlanta's position with his finger.
Atlanta lay southeast of the CDC.
And far too close.
A few thousand walkers could be stopped.
Tens of thousands could be stopped.
Millions?
That remained to be seen.
He immediately switched radios.
"Jackie. Status report on the quarry."
Jackie's voice answered.
"The water's drained. Trees around the site have been cleared. We're still working on the entrance routes—"
"Forget that."
Wu Fan cut him off.
"Block the entrances immediately."
A brief silence followed.
Then:
"Why?"
"Atlanta's herd is moving."
"Several million walkers."
"I need that quarry operational now."
Jackie didn't hesitate.
"Understood."
The radio clicked off.
Wu Fan pinched the bridge of his nose.
Millions.
Not ants.
Walkers.
How many could the quarry hold?
Four hundred thousand?
Five hundred thousand?
What about the rest?
The mountains to the north still contained scattered survivors.
South Carolina lay to the east.
Future expansion zones.
He couldn't allow a migrating herd to sweep through them.
Which meant there was only one option.
The CDC would have to absorb the pressure.
He glanced toward the armory.
So much for conserving ammunition.
At the quarry, Jackie stood at the edge of the massive excavation pit.
The water had been pumped out, revealing mud, gravel, and steep rock walls.
She pointed toward a massive boulder.
"Move that rock and block the entrance."
The excavator roared to life.
Its steel bucket lifted the boulder and deposited it across the main access route.
Nearby, dump trucks unloaded gravel.
Workers stretched wire mesh over the barricades and drove steel stakes deep into the ground.
"Hurry up!"
Jackie shouted.
"Herd's almost here!"
In the distance, gray shapes had already appeared along the horizon.
Daryl's motorcycle raced down the highway.
Behind him, the walker herd stretched endlessly across the landscape.
A living carpet of death.
He reached an intersection and veered toward the quarry.
The herd followed.
Like dogs chasing a lure.
The dead turned wherever he turned.
In his mirrors, countless gray faces drew closer.
Their growls blended into one continuous roar.
Merle followed behind in the Humvee.
A machine gun mounted on the roof fired bursts at walkers that approached too closely.
The staccato gunfire echoed across the countryside.
To walkers, the sound was irresistible.
Soon the familiar quarry came into view.
Daryl twisted the throttle and shot through the narrow opening.
Inside the abandoned camp, an Osprey transport aircraft already waited.
Its rotors whipped dust and loose rocks into the air.
Merle jumped out.
"What are you waiting for?" he shouted.
"You planning to let millions of fans catch up and kiss you?"
Daryl rolled his eyes and drove directly into the aircraft's cargo bay.
Moments later, the Osprey lifted off.
From above, the quarry looked like a giant bowl.
Walkers poured into it from every direction.
Some were shoved over the edge by those behind them.
Others walked straight off the cliffs without hesitation.
Bodies accumulated at the bottom.
Then more bodies fell on top.
The pile grew higher and higher.
Inside the cockpit, pilot Wells gripped the controls tightly.
"Robins Base, we're ready."
The response came immediately.
Five light helicopters lifted off from the airbase.
They formed a wedge formation and headed toward the quarry.
Each helicopter carried ten drums of gasoline.
The smell inside the cabins was overwhelming.
Minutes later, they arrived.
The quarry was already packed.
The dead filled the pit from wall to wall.
Some stacks of bodies were only meters from the rim.
The lead pilot spoke calmly.
"Low-altitude pass. Follow the edge."
The helicopters descended.
Hoses extended from their cargo compartments.
Gasoline sprayed downward.
The pilots moved back and forth like farmers watering crops.
Except what they were growing was destruction.
Fuel coated every surface.
The pit floor.
The rock walls.
The walkers themselves.
Head to toe.
Everything glistened.
Daryl stood in the open cargo hatch of the Osprey.
In his hand was an arrow wrapped in gasoline-soaked cloth.
The makeshift torch burned brightly.
He looked down at the sea of fuel-soaked corpses.
Then he threw it.
The flaming arrow arced through the sky.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then—
WHOOMPH!
Fire erupted.
The gasoline ignited instantly.
Flames surged across the quarry floor and raced up the walls.
Walkers became living torches.
Some staggered through the inferno before collapsing.
Others simply stood and burned.
Black smoke billowed into the sky.
The stench of burning flesh and fat spread for miles.
Yet the walkers continued to fall into the pit.
The dead marched willingly into the flames.
Inside the cockpit, Wells stared at the inferno below.
His hands trembled.
He had seen death before.
He had seen walkers before.
But he had never seen hundreds of thousands burn at once.
"Jesus Christ..."
Behind him, Merle and Daryl watched the sea of fire.
The flames reflected in their eyes.
Daryl finally broke the silence.
"Part of the herd kept moving."
Merle lit a cigarette.
Then tossed the butt into the flames below.
"Then let's hope the Boss is ready."
Far to the south, the CDC stood behind its walls.
And somewhere beyond the horizon, another massive wave of walkers was already approaching.
The real battle had yet to begin.