Chapter 147: The Mysterious Tunnel
The prison loudspeakers blared through the darkness before dawn.
The sound wasn't particularly loud, but in the stillness of the sleeping barracks, it pierced everyone's ears like a needle.
Rick stood inside the broadcasting room, gripping the microphone tightly. His voice was hoarse but steady.
"Everyone who can handle a firearm, assemble on the playground immediately. Repeat—everyone who can handle a firearm, assemble on the playground."
One by one, lights flickered on across the prison.
People jumped out of bed while pulling on their pants. Some slung holsters over their shoulders with cigarettes hanging from their mouths. Others rushed out barefoot, only to step on gravel, curse loudly, and run back for their boots.
More and more people gathered on the playground.
Some wore black combat uniforms. Others wore plaid shirts, tank tops, or even pajamas.
Over two hundred twenty people eventually formed several uneven rows.
Rick stood atop the steps. A flashlight beam illuminated his face from below, emphasizing the deep lines etched into his features and the determination in his eyes.
"Savannah is under siege by millions of walkers," he announced. "Sean is there. Andrea is there. They need our help."
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
Some stared at the ground. Others tightened their grip on their weapons.
Then T stepped forward.
He moved to the front of the crowd and turned to face the hesitant survivors.
"We're all employees of the Umbrella Corporation," he said loudly. "Helping them means helping ourselves. If we were the ones surrounded, they'd come for us too."
He swept his gaze across the crowd.
"Don't forget—we all belong to the same company. They're our people. There's nothing to hesitate about."
Carol stepped out from the opposite side and stood beside him.
Glenn moved forward as well, with Maggie at his side.
Michonne leaned against a wall with her katana strapped across her back. She said nothing, but her silent presence carried more weight than words.
Tyreese and Sasha stepped forward.
So did Oscar and Andrew.
One after another, people began stepping out of the crowd, like a tide surging forward.
Rick left more than twenty people behind to guard the prison.
Then he stood on the train platform, watching the others prepare to board.
An armored train emerged from the tunnel, its headlights flooding the platform with brilliant white light.
The wheels clattered against the rails as it rolled to a stop.
The doors slid open.
Rick jumped aboard first.
Michonne followed.
Then Glenn, T, Carol, Maggie, Tyreese, Sasha, and the rest.
More than two hundred people packed themselves into the train cars. Some sat. Some stood. Others used their backpacks as makeshift seats.
The doors sealed shut with a hiss.
The train began moving.
It accelerated quickly and plunged into the tunnel.
Rows of lights swept backward outside the windows like an endless ribbon of glowing stars.
Rick leaned against the wall of the carriage and closed his eyes.
He calculated the travel time in his head.
Under normal conditions, it would take roughly an hour to reach Savannah.
In another hour, dawn would arrive.
The question was whether Sean could hold out that long.
Rick opened his eyes and stared into the darkness beyond the glass.
Suddenly, the train slammed on its brakes.
Sparks flew as steel wheels screamed against steel rails.
The entire train lurched violently.
Passengers were thrown forward.
Some crashed into walls. Others slipped from their seats. A few barely managed to grab the overhead handrails.
"What happened?"
Glenn stood immediately, one hand bracing against the wall while the other moved toward his pistol.
Without answering, Rick strode to the nearest door and hit the release switch.
The door slid open.
Darkness greeted them.
Only faint green emergency lights illuminated the tunnel.
The air carried a distinct smell of rust and blood.
Rick jumped down onto the tracks.
His boots crunched against gravel and concrete sleepers.
Michonne followed, katana already drawn.
Glenn and T came next, their flashlight beams sweeping across the tunnel.
A body lay directly in front of the train.
Its form had been mangled by the impact.
Both legs were twisted at impossible angles.
Blood pooled beneath it, spreading across the tracks.
Rick crouched beside the corpse.
His flashlight illuminated an Asian man's face—middle-aged, scarred, with half-open eyes and lifeless pupils.
Rick checked the carotid artery.
The flesh was cold and stiff.
The man had been dead for some time.
"Where did he come from?" Glenn asked quietly.
Rick didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to the front of the train and examined the bumper.
Fresh blood stained the metal.
Dark red and sticky, it glistened beneath the flashlight beam.
Several strands of hair and bits of skin clung to the impact point.
Rick straightened.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak—
The corpse moved.
Not with the sluggish motions of a walker.
It exploded upward like a released spring.
The creature lunged straight at T.
The impact slammed him against the train car.
His back struck the metal wall with a heavy bang.
Instinctively, he raised his rifle horizontally, jamming it between himself and the snapping jaws.
The walker's teeth scraped against the barrel with a shrill screech.
Its face was only inches away.
Clouded gray eyes.
A gaping mouth.
A guttural growl rising from deep inside its throat.
"Oh, shit!"
T's arms trembled under the strain.
A gunshot rang out.
Glenn fired.
The bullet punched through the walker's temple.
Black blood sprayed from the exit wound, splattering across the train car.
The walker twitched once before collapsing lifelessly atop T.
Breathing heavily, T shoved the corpse away.
At that moment, two more figures dropped from a ventilation shaft overhead.
The instant they landed, they sprang forward.
Unlike ordinary walkers, they didn't stumble.
They ran.
Fast.
Much faster than normal zombies.
Rick fired.
The first walker's head exploded.
Its body staggered forward two more steps before collapsing.
Michonne moved even faster.
Her katana flashed through the darkness.
The blade pierced straight through the second walker's eye socket and into its skull.
The corpse continued twitching on the blade.
Michonne kicked it away, withdrew her sword, and wiped the blood from the edge against her boot.
Rick crouched beside the bodies.
Both were Asian men.
One had a blue dragon tattoo partially visible beneath a deep scratch on his arm.
The other had a chunk of flesh missing from his neck, the wound already black with infection.
Rick rose slowly and shined his flashlight deeper into the tunnel.
The emergency lights illuminated rust-streaked walls and damp concrete.
Nothing else.
"Back on the train," Rick ordered.
Glenn helped T to his feet.
T's face was pale and drenched with sweat, but he managed a shaky grin.
Michonne sheathed her katana and boarded last.
Rick entered the control cabin.
He inserted his ID card into the console.
A message appeared on the screen.
Identity Confirmed. Rick Grimes. Prison Outpost Commander.
Rick pressed the start button.
The train shuddered.
Lights flickered briefly.
Then everything stabilized.
The wheels began turning once more.
Slowly.
Steadily.
T leaned against the carriage wall, staring at the black blood smeared across his chest.
He rubbed at it with his sleeve.
It refused to come off.
Glenn crouched beside him and checked his arms.
"You hurt?"
T shook his head.
"No. That thing didn't bite me."
His voice still trembled slightly.
"I was just scared out of my mind."
The train accelerated.
Outside the windows, the green emergency lights became white blurs racing past.
Deep within the tunnel, the corpses remained on the tracks.
For a brief moment, they were illuminated by the departing train's headlights.
Then darkness swallowed them once more.
Far away, a faint sound echoed through the ventilation ducts.
Crack.
Like bones snapping.
Then came a heavy thud.
Like a sack of wet cement hitting the ground.
Silence followed.
Only the fading rumble of the departing train remained.
Eventually, even that disappeared.
A Licker crouched beside one of the corpses.
Its claws rested against its chest, nails sunk deep into flesh.
Its head tilted slightly, listening.
There were no living humans left in the tunnel.
Only the hum of the ventilation system and the distant sound of dripping water.
The creature released its grip and began moving on all fours into the darkness.
After only a few steps, it froze.
A strange high-frequency whine emerged from within its body.
Like overloaded electronics on the verge of failure.
Cracks spread across its skin.
Starting from its back, they expanded outward like dried riverbeds.
Gray-white steam erupted from the fissures.
More and more.
Thicker and thicker.
The creature collapsed.
Its body began disintegrating within the cloud of vapor, dissolving as though consumed by acid.
Flesh vanished.
Then bone.
Finally, nothing remained except gray powder scattered by the ventilation system's airflow.
Only a pale mark remained on the tracks.
A chalk-like circle hastily drawn upon the rail.
The train continued speeding through the tunnel.
Rick stood inside the driver's cabin, staring ahead.
The rails gleamed silver beneath the headlights, stretching endlessly into the darkness like a river of steel.
Emergency lights flashed past one after another.
Growing brighter.
Growing denser.
Then, at the far end of the tunnel, a brilliant white glow appeared.
The Savannah Transfer Station.
They had arrived.