The tension in the CDC was palpable as Dr. Jenner explained the dire situation to the group. The electric generator that powered the entire facility was nearly out of fuel, and once it stopped, the CDC's automated protocols would initiate a complete lockdown and self-destruct.
"We've got less than 24 hours," Jenner said, his face pale under the sterile fluorescent lights. "If we don't refuel the generator, this place will go up in flames, taking us with it."
The group exchanged worried glances. Rick stepped forward, his expression resolute. "Then we'll get the fuel. Just tell us what we need."
"There's a gas depot about five miles from here," Jenner replied. "It should have what we need, but it'll be dangerous. The area's crawling with walkers."
Rick nodded. "Glenn, Murphy, you're with me. Everyone else, stay here and help Jenner keep things running. We'll be back as soon as we can."
Glenn's face tightened, but he nodded, adjusting his baseball cap. "Got it. Let's make it quick."
Murphy leaned against the wall, his blue-tinged skin catching the harsh light. He gave a crooked grin, though his sharp eyes betrayed his unease. "Great. Another suicide mission. Just what I signed up for."
Andrea, sitting nearby with Amy, stood and approached Murphy. Her blonde hair framed her worried face, and she placed a hand on his arm. "Be careful," she said softly. "We can't afford to lose you. Not after everything you've done."
Murphy's grin softened into a more genuine smile. "Don't worry. I'm too stubborn to die."
Amy hugged her sister tightly before glancing at Murphy. "Thank you again," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "For everything."
Murphy gave her a nod and turned back to Rick and Glenn. "Alright, Sheriff, let's get this show on the road."
The trio set out in a dusty SUV, the hum of the engine the only sound as they drove through the deserted streets of Atlanta. The city's once-bustling avenues were now eerily silent, littered with abandoned cars and debris. The air was heavy, a faint smell of decay lingering.
Rick gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Keep your eyes peeled," he said, his voice tense. "If the walkers don't get us, the looters might."
Murphy sat in the passenger seat, one hand resting on his knee, the other gripping a knife. "You always this cheerful on supply runs?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Rick glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Only on the fun ones."
Glenn, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward. "The depot should be just up ahead," he said, pointing toward a cluster of buildings in the distance. His face was drawn with worry, but there was a determination in his eyes. "Let's hope it hasn't been completely cleaned out."
The SUV slowed as they approached the depot. Rick pulled into a side alley, parking the vehicle out of sight. The three men stepped out, weapons at the ready. The depot loomed ahead, a squat, gray building surrounded by chain-link fences. Several walkers milled about near the entrance, their decayed forms swaying aimlessly.
"We'll have to be quick," Rick said, his voice low. "Murphy, Glenn, you take the left side. I'll cover the right. Get in, fill as many cans as you can, and get out."
Glenn nodded, gripping his crowbar tightly. Murphy adjusted the strap of his bag, his face set with grim determination. "Let's do this."
The three men split up, moving stealthily toward the depot. Murphy and Glenn circled around to the left, keeping low as they approached a side door. Murphy gestured for Glenn to stay back as he tested the handle. The door creaked open, and the two slipped inside.
The interior of the depot was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and rot. The faint shuffling of walkers echoed through the space, sending a chill down their spines.
"Stay close," Murphy whispered, his voice barely audible.
Glenn nodded, his grip on the crowbar tightening. The two moved through the aisles of fuel cans and equipment, their footsteps silent on the concrete floor. Murphy's sharp eyes scanned the shadows, his muscles tensed for any sudden movement.
They reached the storage area where rows of gas cans were neatly stacked. Murphy grabbed one and handed it to Glenn. "Start filling," he said, nodding toward a nearby pump.
Glenn quickly got to work, his hands shaking slightly as he unscrewed the cap of the first can. Murphy stood guard, his knife ready, his ears straining for any sound. The faint groans of walkers grew louder, and he turned toward the entrance just as a figure emerged from the shadows.
"Heads up," Murphy hissed, stepping forward to intercept the walker. He drove his knife into its skull with practiced precision, the body crumpling silently to the floor. Glenn glanced up, his eyes wide, but said nothing as he continued filling the cans.
Meanwhile, Rick had made his way to the right side of the depot. He moved swiftly but cautiously, his revolver held steady. Spotting a cluster of walkers near the main entrance, he raised his weapon and fired, each shot finding its mark. The loud gunfire echoed through the building, drawing more walkers from the surrounding area.
"We've got company," Rick called out, his voice urgent.
Murphy and Glenn exchanged a quick glance. "Grab what you can and move!" Murphy ordered.
Glenn finished filling the last can and secured the lids. The two men hoisted the heavy containers and began making their way back toward the exit. Walkers were pouring into the depot now, their grotesque forms filling the narrow aisles.
Murphy swung his knife in wide arcs, taking down any walker that got too close. Glenn used his crowbar to fend off the stragglers, his face pale but determined. They reached the side door and burst outside, the cool air a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside.
Rick was already waiting near the SUV, firing at the approaching horde. "Get in!" he shouted.
Murphy and Glenn threw the gas cans into the back of the vehicle and scrambled inside. Rick jumped into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut just as a walker lunged at the window. The SUV roared to life, and Rick floored the gas pedal, the tires screeching as they sped away.
The trio didn't speak as they drove back to the CDC, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Murphy leaned back in his seat, his knife still clutched tightly in his hand. "Well," he said finally, breaking the silence. "That was fun."
Glenn let out a shaky laugh, his hands trembling as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Yeah, let's not do that again anytime soon."
Rick glanced at them, his expression grim but relieved. "You two did good. Let's just hope this fuel buys us enough time."
Back at the CDC, the group greeted them with a mix of relief and anxiety. Dale helped unload the gas cans, his weathered face lined with concern. "Any trouble?" he asked.
"Nothing we couldn't handle," Rick replied, though the tension in his voice suggested otherwise.
Andrea hugged Glenn tightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you," she whispered.
Amy approached Murphy, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "You're okay," she said, her voice trembling. "I was so worried."
Murphy gave her a lopsided grin. "Told you I'm too stubborn to die."
As the group worked together to refuel the generator, Murphy couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him during the run. The sight of the empty city, the relentless walkers, the looming threat of the CDC's destruction—it all felt like a ticking clock counting down to something worse. But for now, they had survived, and that was enough.