Ashes of the Apocalypse

Morales placed a hand on T-Dog’s shoulder as the truck rumbled forward, “Don’t beat yourself up, man,” he said. “Nobody’s gonna cry over Merle Dixon being out of the picture—except maybe Daryl.”

Rick glanced at Morales, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Daryl?” he asked. “Who’s that?”

Harry, who had been leaning against the truck’s side and catching his breath, straightened up slightly. “Daryl’s Merle’s younger brother,” he explained. 

Glenn’s bright red sports car came hurtling past the truck, the car alarm still blaring as Glenn let out a whoop.

Morales snorted, shaking his head with a faint smile. “At least someone’s having a good day,” he muttered,

Meanwhile at the camp the area buzzed with activity as Lori sat on a stool, scissors in hand, carefully trimming Carl’s hair. Nearby, a brother and sister bickered loudly over a toy.

“Baby, the more you fidget, the longer it takes. So don’t, okay?” Lori said as she tilted Carl’s head slightly to the side.

Carl groaned, crossing his arms. “You didn’t do this when Harry needed a haircut,” he muttered.

Lori paused, her lips twitching into a smile as she snipped another lock of hair. “The last of your brother’s worries when he gets back will be a haircut,” she said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. Her gaze flicked toward Shane, who was leaning against a nearby post, arms crossed. “Not after I get a hold of him.”

Carl’s eyes widened as he followed his mother’s glare to Shane, who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her stare. Lori muttered under her breath, “Sneaking out of camp with the others while I was asleep… Reckless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Shane cleared his throat, clearly eager to steer the conversation away from Harry’s escapade. “You know,” he began, “shaving’s just as bad. Stings like hell if you’re not careful. Carl, trust me, you’ll be wishing you were getting a haircut from your mama when the time comes.”

Carl huffed, his arms crossed as he turned toward Shane. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Shane chuckled, leaning against the post with a grin. “I’ll tell you what… you just get through this with some manly dignity, and tomorrow, I’ll teach you something special. I’m gonna teach you to catch frogs.”

Carl’s eyes widened slightly, “Harry caught a frog when I was four,” he said “He put it on my pillow while I was in the bathroom!”

Lori smirked at that, lowering the scissors for a moment. “Oh, I remember that day,” she said, amusement in her tone. “You screamed so loud I thought the roof was going to cave in.”

Shane grinned. “See, that’s exactly why you need my expert guidance,” he said, pointing at Carl. “I said frogs… plural. Catching frogs is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means—secret techniques, passed down through the ages. Few people know about them, but lucky for you, I’m willing to share my secrets.”

Carl glanced at his mom, unsure what to make of Shane’s comment “Mom?”

Lori raised her hands “Oh, I’m a girl. You talk to him.”

Shane clapped his hands together, leaning in like he was about to reveal a great conspiracy. “It’s a one-time offer, bud… not to be repeated.”

Carl furrowed his brows, tilting his head. “Why do we need frogs? Plural?”

Shane smirked, straightening up. “You ever eat frog legs?”

Carl’s face twisted in immediate disgust. “Eww!”

Shane feigned shock “No, yum! Frog legs are a delicacy, my friend. You fry ’em up just right, and they’ll blow your mind.”

Lori wrinkled her nose, cutting in without hesitation. “No, he’s right. Eww.”

Lori’s smirk grew sharper as she snipped the scissors with a flourish. “Shane, I doubt that,” she replied dryly.

Shane chuckled, turning to Carl with an exaggerated, conspiratorial tone. “Don’t listen to her, man. You and me, we’ll be heroes. We’ll feed this camp Cajun-style Kermit legs, and they’ll love it.”

Lori raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’d rather eat Miss Piggy. Yes, that came out wrong.”

Shane let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “Heroes, son,” he continued, tapping Carl lightly on the shoulder. “Spoken of in song and legend. You and me, Shane and Carl.”

Carl finally cracked a smile, laughing along with Shane before their conversation was interrupted by the sudden shriek of a car alarm in the distance. The beeping echoed through the camp, drawing everyone’s attention.

A man called out, “Hey, Dale! Can you see what that is?”

Shane stood, his expression sharpening as he jogged toward the RV, shouting, “Talk to me, Dale!”

Dale, perched on top of the RV with his binoculars, squinted toward the commotion. “I can’t tell yet,” he called back.

Amy rushed over “Is it them? Are they back?”

Dale’s expression shifted as recognition dawned. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, lowering the binoculars slightly.

Amy pressed, “What is it?”

Dale leaned forward, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “A stolen car, I’d guess.”

Glenn’s red sports car screeched into the camp, its alarm blaring as Glenn poked his head out of the driver’s seat with a big grin. “Hello!” he called

Dale hopped down from the RV, gesturing wildly. “Holy crap! Turn that damn thing off!”

Glenn got out of the car “I don’t know how!”

Shane groaned, approaching the car. “Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please!” he shouted, Amy trailed behind, her concern growing. “What about Andrea and Harry?” she asked “Are they okay? Are they all right?”

Glenn fumbled with the controls, “What? Okay, okay! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Alright, alright!” He popped the hood, and Shane immediately disconnected the battery, silencing the alarm at last.

Glenn exhaled and gave a reassuring nod. “They’re okay! They’re okay! Everyone’s coming back.”

Amy’s brow furrowed. “Why aren’t they with you? Where are they? Are they ok?”

Glenn raised his hands defensively. “Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is… Well, Merle, not so much.”

Shane marched up “Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?”

Dale raised a hand as if to ease the tension. “I think we’re okay.”

Shane whirled around “You call being stupid okay?”

Dale shrugged “Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source. I’m not arguing. I’m just saying. It wouldn’t hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?”

Glenn held his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Got a cool car.”

Before Shane could retort, the sound of another engine rumbled in the distance. All heads turned toward the horizon as the large truck emerged from the tree line, dust kicking up in its wake.

“They’re back!” someone shouted, the tension in the camp dissipating in an instant as people moved toward the arriving vehicle.

As the truck pulled up, Harry glanced at his father, who had been sitting silently beside him. Rick shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Time to face your mother’s wrath,” he said, patting Harry’s shoulder.

Harry groaned, bracing himself as he climbed out of the truck. He hadn’t even taken two steps before Lori came marching toward him, her expression a mix of relief and fury. “Harry Drew Grimes,” she snapped, her hands on her hips, “you are in a lot of trouble, mister!” She didn’t hesitate to grab his ear, causing Harry to protest.

“Mom! Ow! Come on!” Harry squirmed, shooting a desperate look at Shane and Carl, who were standing nearby. Shane watched the scene unfold with barely contained amusement, while Carl looked on with wide-eyed sympathy.

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me!” Lori fumed, still holding his ear as she berated him. “Sneaking out of the camp? Putting yourself in danger? What were you thinking? Do you have any idea—”

“Before you keep yelling,” Harry interjected quickly, his voice pleading, “don’t you want to see my surprise?”

Lori paused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “What surprise?”

At that moment, Rick stepped out of the truck. Lori’s mouth fell open, the anger on her face replaced by shock. Shane froze, his usual confidence giving way to wide-eyed disbelief. Carl stared for a moment before letting out a choked cry. “Dad!” he shouted, tears streaming down his face as he ran toward Rick.

Rick crouched down, catching Carl in his arms and lifting him into a tight embrace. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured. “I missed you so much.”

Lori stood frozen for a moment, her hands trembling before she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Rick and Carl. “Rick,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Harry stepped into the embrace as well, the four of them holding onto each other as if they were afraid to let go.

Later that night, the fire crackled softly as the group sat huddled around it, the flames casting long shadows against the quiet of the camp. Lori and Carl leaned against Rick “Disoriented,” Rick said“I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion… all those things, but disoriented comes closest.”

Dale nodded. “Words can be meager things,” he murmured, his tone carrying a hint of sadness. “Sometimes they fall short.”

Rick offered a faint smile “I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from. Ever.”

Carl looked up at his dad, “Mom and Harry said you died,” he said, his voice quiet .

Rick’s expression softened, and he turned toward his son. “They had every reason to believe that,” he said “Don’t you ever doubt it.”

Lori let out a soft sigh, her hands resting on her lap. “When things started to get really bad,” she began, “they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened.”

Rick nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “Well, I’m not surprised after Atlanta fell.”

“Yeah,” Lori murmured, her voice trailing off.

Rick leaned back slightly, his face shadowed as he spoke again. “And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun.”

Shane spoke up“Yeah, looks don’t deceive,” he said, his gaze meeting Rick’s. “I barely got them out, you know.”

Rick’s eyes lingered on Shane “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane,” he said “I can’t begin to express it.”

Dale chimed in once more. There go those words falling short again. Paltry things.”

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet. "He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

T-Dog nodded grimly. "I’ll tell him," he said firmly. "I dropped the key. It’s on me."

Rick shook his head "I cuffed him. That makes it mine."

Glenn shook his head "Guys, it’s not a competition," he said, raising his hands. "I don’t mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

T-Dog squared his shoulders "I did what I did," he said "Hell if I’m gonna hide from him."

Amy, sitting beside Harry, spoke up hesitantly. "We could lie," she suggested, her voice uncertain.

Andrea, immediately shook her head. "Or tell the truth," she countered, her tone sharp. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary," she added, glancing at Lori. "And if Merle got left behind, it’s nobody’s fault but Merle’s."

Dale nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. "And that’s what we tell Daryl?" he said "I don’t see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise… We’re gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

The group fell silent for a moment before T-Dog spoke again, his voice low "I was scared, and I ran," he admitted. "I’m not ashamed of it."

Andrea sighed, crossing her arms. "We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?"

T-Dog looked at her, his jaw tightening. "I stopped long enough to chain that door," he said. "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It’s not enough to break through that… Not that chain, not that padlock."

"My point," T-Dog continued, "Dixon’s alive. He’s still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That’s on us."

Soon the group began to scatter, each member heading toward their tents for the night.

Mark got up carrying a sleeping Clementine in his arms, her face tucked against his shoulder. He walked quietly past Harry, nodding in acknowledgment before continuing toward his tent.

Rick stood nearby, stretching slightly as he turned to Harry “You coming?”

Harry shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got a tent with Amy,” he said.

Rick’s lips twitched into a subtle smile as he raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” he murmured, his tone light and teasing. He patted Harry on the shoulder, his grin lingering as he added, “Goodnight.”

Harry ducked into his tent, holding the flap open for Amy as she followed close behind. As soon as the tent zipped shut, Amy turned toward him and without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips. “For keeping Andrea safe. It means everything to me.”

Harry smiled, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back. “It wasn’t so bad,” he replied with a teasing edge, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow at her. “So… are we just going to sleep?”

Amy smirked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she playfully tapped his chest. “I said I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” she quipped, though her tone held a trace of mischief. She paused, glancing toward the tent wall “You think your parents will hear?”

Harry snorted softly, leaning back on the cot with an amused grin as he took off his belt “I’m pretty sure they’re having their own special reunion right about now,” he said as Amy laughed and leaped into his lap.

When morning came, Harry stirred, blinking groggily as the muffled sounds of camp life filtered through the tent walls. The faint clatter of pots, footsteps crunching on gravel, and low murmurs told him the camp was already awake and bustling. He glanced over at Amy, who was still fast asleep beside him. He looked around the tent to see their clothes everywhere as they had thrown them off in a hurry, Harry quickly getting dressed and leaving Amy to sleep as he zipped the tent up.

He spotted his father near the center of the camp, engaged in conversation with Carol, Kenny, and Katjaa. His gaze shifted to the edge of the camp where a different kind of commotion was unfolding. He noticed Glenn standing near the battered sports car, his arms crossed and his expression a mix of frustration and sadness as a group of survivors worked to strip the vehicle apart. The hood was propped open, the engine exposed, and various parts were being carefully removed while others siphoned gas into containers.

“They’re vultures,” Glenn muttered as Harry approached, his voice tinged with exasperation. “I didn’t bring this thing back so they could tear it apart like some kind of scrap yard.”

Dale glanced up from his work. “We need every drop of gas we can get,” he said evenly, gesturing to the fuel canisters already half-filled. “Sorry Glenn.” Glenn let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Still feels wrong,” he grumbled. “It was a cool car.”

Shane pulled up in the truck, the back loaded with containers of water. He climbed out of the driver’s seat, wiping his hands on his jeans as he gestured to the load. “Got water here,” he announced “Make sure you boil it before using it. Don’t take any chances.”

The rising voices of his parents drew his attention, cutting through the sound of camp activity. He slowed his steps, lingering just out of view.

Rick’s voice was low “I’ve been thinking about the man we left behind.”

Lori’s response was immediate, sharp with disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Lori asked

“Rick,” Lori said, her voice rising, “Well, I think it’s crazy. I think it is just the stupidest way to break your son—”

Suddenly, piercing screams shattered the conversation.

“Mom!” Carl’s voice rang out.

“MOM! DAD!”

“MARK!”

Lori’s expression shifted instantly, her face going pale. “Carl?” she called, already moving.

Everyone in the camp turned toward the noise, people began sprinting toward the yells.

“They’re over there!” a man shouted, pointing down a dirt path.

“Carl!” Lori cried

“Dad!” Carl’s voice carried again, and Rick bolted, grabbing a nearby pole as he raced ahead of the others.

Lori’s steps quickened, her heart pounding. “Baby! Carl!”

A child’s voice joined in from the distance “Mama! Mommy!”

“Rick!” Glenn shouted.

Lori’s breath hitched as she called again, “Carl!”

Rick reached the site first, the pole gripped tightly in his hands. He scanned the scene, his chest heaving with adrenaline. “Carl!” he barked.

“This way, boy! Come on, come on!” another man yelled

Rick zeroed in on Carl, who stood rooted to the spot, his face pale as Lori caught up moments later, rushing forward and pulling Carl into her arms. “I’ve got him,” she gasped, her hands moving quickly over him to check for injuries. “Nothing bit you? Nothing scratched you?”

“No, I’m okay,” Carl replied, his voice shaking as he clung to his mother.

Mark lifted Clementine in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, while Kenny and Katjaa held Duck between them, the boy squirming slightly.

Harry rounded a bend, a nasty sight stopped them in their tracks. A Walker crouched over the carcass of a deer, its rotting hands tearing into the flesh. The sound of wet chewing filled the air, making Andrea and Amy recoil in disgust.

Amy covered her mouth, her voice muffled. “It’s eating a deer. That’s just… ugh.”

The Walker, sensing their presence, lifted its head, blood and gore dripping from its mouth. Its milky eyes locked onto the group, and with a guttural snarl, it began to lurch toward them.

Rick, Shane, Glenn, Jim, and Morales sprang into action, their weapons raised. Rick swung his pole connecting with the Walker’s shoulder and sending it stumbling back. Shane followed up with a strike from his bat, while Glenn jabbed at it with a crowbar. Jim and Morales joined in.

Dale gripped his axe tightly as the Walker staggered under the onslaught, he stepped forward, raising the axe high before bringing it down The axe cleaved through the Walker’s neck, severing its head in one clean motion. The body crumpled to the ground.

Dale stood frozen for a moment, staring at the decapitated head. “It’s the first one we’ve had up here,” he said “They never come this far up the mountain.”

Jim wiped his brow, his expression grim. “Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what.”

The group fell silent. Suddenly, the sound of snapping branches and approaching footsteps broke the stillness. Everyone tensed, their weapons raised again.

From the shadows of the forest, a man emerged, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and his face twisted in anger. Daryl Dixon stormed into view, his eyes immediately locking onto the scene before him.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dale muttered under his breath.

Daryl’s voice was a growl of frustration. “Son of a bitch,” he spat, gesturing toward the deer carcass. “That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this… filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!” He punctuated his words with a sharp kick to the Walker’s lifeless body.

Dale raised a hand, his tone placating. “Calm down, son. That’s not helping.”

Daryl turned on him, his glare sharp. “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond ?” He gestured toward the deer, his frustration boiling over. “I’ve been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?”

Shane stepped forward, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t risk that,” he said.

Daryl let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “That’s a damn shame,” he muttered. “I got some squirrel… about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.”

Before anyone could respond, a faint clicking sound drew their attention. The severed head of the Walker, lying in the dirt, began to move its jaw, its teeth snapping together.

“Oh god,” Amy whispered, taking a step back.

Daryl rolled his eyes “Come on, people. What the hell?” Without hesitation, he raised his crossbow and fired a bolt into the Walker’s skull.

“It’s gotta be the brain,” Daryl said “Don’t y’all know nothing?” He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he retrieved his bolt.

The group returned to camp, the tension from the woods still lingering in the air. Daryl strode in ahead of the others, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a bundle of squirrels in his hand. His voice rang out, sharp and impatient. “Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let’s stew ’em up.”

Shane stepped forward, his expression cautious “Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you.”

Daryl turned, his brow furrowing. “About what?”

Shane hesitated for a moment before answering. “About Merle. There was a… there was a problem in Atlanta.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping. “He dead?”

Shane shook his head slightly. “We’re not sure.”

Daryl’s frustration boiled over. “He either is or he ain’t!”

Rick stepped in, his tone calm but direct. “No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.”

Daryl’s gaze snapped to Rick, his expression hard. “Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes,” Rick replied evenly.

Daryl took a step closer, his voice sharp. “Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?”

Rick met his gaze without flinching. “Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

Daryl paced for a moment, processing the words. Then he spoke up, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!”

Rick nodded, his expression steady. “Yeah.”

With a growl, Daryl hurled the squirrels at Rick and lunged. Rick dodged to the side as Daryl pulled a knife from his belt, T-Dog shouted, “Hey! Watch the knife!”, but before he could do anything, Shane moved in behind him, locking him in a chokehold. “Okay. Okay,” Shane said as he restrained Daryl.

Daryl struggled, snarling. “You’d best let me go!”

Shane tightened his grip slightly. “Nah, I think it’s better if I don’t.”

“Chokehold’s illegal.”

“You can file a complaint. We’ll keep this up all day.”

Rick stepped closer. “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?”

Shane glanced at Daryl, who grunted reluctantly. “Mmm. Yeah.”

Shane released him, stepping back cautiously. Daryl rubbed his neck, his glare darting between Rick and Shane.

Rick spoke again  “What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

T-Dog stepped forward “It’s not Rick’s fault. I had the key. I dropped it.”

“You couldn’t pick it up?”

T-Dog sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Daryl’s jaw tightened “If it’s supposed to make me feel better, it don’t.”

T-Dog took a deep breath, his tone earnest. “Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof… so the geeks couldn’t get at him… with a padlock. It’s gotta count for something.”

Daryl’s frustration boiled over again. “Hell with all y’all!” he snapped. “Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him.”

Lori crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on Rick. “He’ll show you. Isn’t that right?” she said, her tone sharp.

Rick nodded “I’m going back.”

Without another word, Lori turned and walked into the RV.

Later, Rick stood by the truck, pulling on his police uniform. As he adjusted his belt, Shane approached, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

“So that’s it, huh?” Shane said, his voice low but heated. “You’re just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?”

Rick glanced at him “I’m not saying to hell with anybody…”

Shane cut him off, his voice rising slightly. “Lori least of all. Tell her that.”

Rick’s gaze softened for a moment. “She knows.”

Shane shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. “Well, look, I… I don’t, okay, Rick? So could you just… Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?”

Before Rick could respond, Daryl’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey, choose your words more carefully.”

Shane turned to him, his tone unapologetic. “No, I did. Douche bag’s what I meant. Merle Dixon… The guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.”

Harry, standing nearby, spoke up quietly. “I agree Merle isn’t worth a damn,” he said “but we need Daryl, and unfortunately it means that asshole is a packaged deal.”

Rick nodded “What he would or wouldn’t do doesn’t interest me. I can’t let a man die of thirst… me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That’s no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.”

Lori emerged from the RV, her arms crossed tightly. “So you and Daryl, that’s your big plan?” she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

Rick looked over at Glenn, who paled “Oh, come on,” he muttered.

“You know the way. You’ve been there before… In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It’s not fair of me to ask… I know that, but I’d feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too.”

Shane scoffed, his frustration mounting. “That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk three men, huh?”

T-Dog stepped forward “Four.”

Daryl let out a huff, shaking his head. “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?”

T-Dog shot him a pointed look. “You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother’s cracker ass?”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed. “Why you?”

“You wouldn’t even begin to understand. You don’t speak my language.”

Dale, standing nearby, chimed in “That’s four.”

Lori’s eyes darted to Harry, narrowing as she snapped, “Don’t even think of offering to go back to Atlanta with them, young man.”

Shane stepped closer to Rick, his voice low but insistent. “It’s not just four. You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They’re moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need ’em here. We need ’em to protect camp.”

Rick met Shane’s gaze “It seems to me what you really need most here are more guns.”

Glenn’s head snapped up, his expression shifting. “Right, the guns.”

Shane frowned, “Wait. What guns?”

Rick straightened “Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It’s just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed. “Ammo?”

Rick nodded. “700 rounds, assorted.”

Lori stepped forward “You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you’re gonna turn around and leave?”

Carl, standing beside her, looked up at his father, his voice trembling. “Dad, I don’t want you to go.”

Lori placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in. Tell me. Make me understand.”

Rick’s expression softened as he turned to Lori. “I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy,” he said quietly. “Lori, if they hadn’t taken me in, I’d have died. It’s because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they’d follow me to Atlanta. They’ll walk into the same trap I did if I don’t warn him.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Rick sighed. “The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He’s got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.”

Shane frowned “These are our walkies?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah.”

Andrea, standing nearby, crossed her arms. “So use the CB. What’s wrong with that?”

Shane shook his head. “The CB’s fine. It’s the walkies that suck to crap… Date back to the ’70s, don’t match any other bandwidth… Not even the scanners in our cars.”

“I need that bag. Okay?”

Lori hesitated, her gaze flicking between Rick and Carl before finally nodding. “All right.”

Rick crouched down to Carl’s level, his voice soft. “Okay?”

Carl looked at him, his eyes wide with worry, before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Later, Rick and T-Dog approached Dale, who was sitting near his RV with Jim. Rick gave a small nod. “Rumor is you have bolt cutters,” he said.

Dale raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Maybe.”

T-Dog chimed in, crossing his arms. “Yeah, we get to that roof, though, we’ll need to cut that chain and the handcuffs.”

Dale sighed, his gaze flicking between them. “I never like lending tools,” he said “The last time I did… And yes, I am talking about you,” he added, looking pointedly at T-Dog. “Let’s just say your bag of guns wasn’t the only bag that was dropped. My tools got left behind with Merle.”

Rick met Dale’s gaze. “We’ll bring your tools back too. Think of the bolt cutters as an investment.”

“Sounds like more of a gamble. What do I get in return?”

“What do you want?”

Dale considered for a moment before replying. “How about one of those guns you bring back? My pick.”

“Done,” Rick said.

Jim leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. “Dale, let’s… sweeten the deal a bit,” he said, “Now that cube van of yours…”

Rick turned to him, tilting his head. “What about it?”

Jim gestured toward the RV. “The RV’s radiator hose is shot. That’s a problem if we need to get somewhere and wanna get very far. And the hose on that van is just about a perfect match… Well, enough that I can make it fit.”

Rick nodded slowly. “I’ll tell you what… we get back, you can strip that van down to the bare metal.”

Before anyone could respond, the sharp honk of a truck horn cut through the air. Daryl leaned out of the truck’s window, his voice impatient. “Come on, let’s go!”

Rick gave Dale and Jim a quick nod. “Thank you,” he said before turning toward the truck.

As he walked away, Shane stepped in front of him, his expression serious. “Hey, Rick, got any rounds in the python?” he asked.

Rick shook his head. “No.”

Shane let out a small huff. “Last time we were on the gun range, I’m sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours.”

Rick smirked faintly. “You and that bag… like the bottom of an old lady’s purse.”

Shane chuckled but quickly sobered. “I hate that you’re doing this, man. I think that it’s foolish and reckless. But if you’re gonna go, you’re taking bullets.”

Rick hesitated “I’m not sure I’d want to fire a shot in the city, not after what happened last time.”

“That’s up to you,” Shane said, handing him the bullets. “Well… four men, four rounds. What are the odds, huh? Let’s just hope that… let’s just hope four is your lucky number, okay?”

Rick gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

“Alright,” Shane said, stepping back as Rick climbed into the truck. Moments later, the truck roared to life and headed out of the camp.

In the tent, Carl was lying down, staring at the ceiling. Lori and Harry entered quietly, both sitting down beside him. Lori offered him a small smile. “Hey. You know, I bet they’ll be just fine,” she said, her tone reassuring.

Carl turned to her“I’m not worried. Are you?”

Lori hesitated for a moment before nodding slightly. “Yeah, a little.”

Carl’s expression softened. “Don’t be.”

Lori tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Why?”

Carl’s answer came without hesitation. “Think about it, Mom. Everything that’s happened to him so far… Nothing’s killed him yet.”

Lori chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “You’re right,” she said, her voice light with amusement. “You’re absolutely right.”

Atlanta

The truck came to a halt just outside the city limits. Daryl leaned forward, his voice tense “He’d better be okay.”

T-Dog adjusted his grip on the bolt cutters “It’s my only word on the matter. I told you—the geeks can’t get at him. The only thing that’s gonna get through that door is us.”

Glenn tapped the brakes, bringing the truck to a full stop. “We walk from here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the group. They nodded, gathering their gear and climbing out.

Quarry Camp

Back at camp, Lori scanned the area, her brow furrowed with concern. “Dale,” she called, approaching the RV. “Have you seen Carl and Harry?”

Dale looked up from his chair, adjusting his hat as he replied casually. “Shane took them down to the quarry. There was some mighty bold talk about catching frogs.”

Quarry

Carl crouched by the edge of the water, gripping a net tightly as he stared into the murky depths. “I’m not getting anything,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Shane, standing knee-deep in the water, grinned as he glanced at Harry, who was equally soaked. “Yeah,” Shane drawled, “being all wily, staying submerged. Little suckers—they know something’s up. That’s what’s going on.” He smirked, wading further into the water. “Just gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Shane turned back to Carl “All right, little man, look. You are the key in all this, okay? All we’re gonna do is we’re gonna go after one of them, scare the rest of them off. They’re all gonna scatter, and I’m gonna drive ’em your way, okay?”

Carl nodded, his grip tightening on the net. “All right.”

“What you need to do,” Shane continued, “is round up every bad boy you see, all right? Are you with me?”

Carl grinned. “Yeah. Yeah.”

Shane raised his hand dramatically. “Hells yeah. Give me your mean face. Yes, sir! Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” Carl exclaimed, his excitement growing.

Shane chuckled, slapping the water as he shouted back, “Are you ready? Here we go, boy. Here we go.”

Carl laughed loudly as Shane and Harry began splashing around in the waterShane shouted, “All right, they’re coming your way! They’re coming your way! Go on, get ’em, get ’em. They’re coming your way—catch them frogs! Catch them frogs! They’re coming, little man! Get ’em! Get that net in there and get ’em!”

Atlanta

Rick turned to Daryl “Merle first or guns?”

“Merle! We ain’t even having this conversation.”

“We are. You know the geography. It’s your call.”

Glenn chimed in “Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first.”

Quarry

Back at the quarry, Lori descended the slope, her gaze softening as she spotted Shane, Harry, and Carl splashing around in the water.

Atlanta

 As they entered the department store, a Walker stumbled into view. Daryl raised his crossbow, his lip curling in disgust. “Damn. You are one ugly skank,” he muttered before firing a shot through the Walker’s head. Daryl stepped forward, pulling the arrow out with ease.

The group continued their ascent, finally reaching the roof. Rick and T-Dog cut through the padlock and pushed the door open. Daryl rushed ahead. “Merle! Merle!”

As he stepped onto the roof, his movements faltered. His eyes locked onto the scene before him, and his breath hitched. “No! No!” he cried, his voice breaking.

The group stood silent, their gazes fixed on the ground. A saw lay discarded nearby, and next to it, Merle’s severed hand.