Judge, Jury, Executioner
Lori stood with the group, her arms crossed, eyes flicking between Rick and Shane. “What’s the plan?” she asked. “Everyone would feel better knowing what it is.”
The camp was tense, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on all of them. Glenn spoke up “Are we keeping Randall at the farm?”
Rick’s jaw tightened. “You’ll know soon enough.”
Daryl appeared, his face grim. “Randall’s got a gang of thirty men,” he said flatly. “If they roll through here, we’re dead. And the women? They’ll wish they were.”
A ripple of unease spread through the group. Rick’s expression hardened. “No one goes near Randall,” he ordered. “We don’t have a choice. He’s a threat—we kill him.”
Dale stepped forward “So that’s it?” he demanded. “We just kill him?”
Rick didn’t waver. “We do it today,” he said, turning and walking away.
Dale followed after him, his voice urgent. “You can’t do this! You don’t want to do this.”
Rick exhaled sharply, his steps slowing. “I thought about it all night, Dale. And knowing what we know now—we don’t have a choice.”
Dale shook his head, disbelief flickering in his eyes. “We can’t just decide to take someone’s life.”
Rick turned to him. “The group supports it.”
Dale scoffed. “You didn’t let them speak back!”
Rick’s patience wore thin. “What process do you want, Dale? We can’t call witnesses. There’s no judge.”
Dale’s voice rose. “So we just declare Randall guilty by association? Sentence him to death? He’s just a kid—we need time.”
Rick clenched his jaw. “We can’t drag this out. The group is scared. I owe it to them to keep them safe.”
Dale’s expression hardened. “Think about your sons,” he said. “Are you going to teach Carl to shoot first and ask questions later?”
Rick paused, his gaze flickering. Dale stepped closer, pressing his argument further. “Give me a day to talk to everyone.”
Rick’s face remained unreadable, but his tone was sharp. “Funny,” he muttered. “In all your talking to me and Lori this week, you failed to mention that you threatened to shoot Harry in the woods.”
Dale paled, his mouth opening slightly in shock.
Rick let the words hang in the air before continuing. “We vote at sunset. And whatever happens—happens.”
Without another word, Rick turned and walked away, leaving Dale standing there.
Dale stepped into the RV, finding Andrea and Amy sitting across from each other, their faces already tense with the weight of everything happening outside. He didn’t waste time. “I need a favor,” he said.
Andrea narrowed her eyes slightly. “Did you move the gun bag?”
Dale nodded and pulled it out, setting it down. “I did.”
Andrea exchanged a glance with Amy before shifting her focus back to him. “What is it?”
Dale exhaled sharply. “I need you to guard and protect Randall.”
Amy frowned, confusion flashing across her face. “Why?”
“Rick gave me until sunset to talk to everyone,” Dale explained. “If Shane or Harry find out—”
Amy cut him off, anger rising in her voice. “You think one of them would kill him?”
Dale hesitated for only a second. “This was their idea, wasn’t it?” he challenged, watching their reactions carefully. “Are you with them on this?”
Amy didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Andrea let out a quiet breath. “Randall is a threat,” she said, her voice even.
Dale turned to her. “Andrea, you were a civil rights lawyer.”
Andrea nodded. “I was.”
Dale pressed forward. “You fought with words, with the power of ideas. Using a gun—that’s Shane and Harry’s way.”
Andrea’s frustration bubbled up. “Are you seriously debating saving a guy who would lead his buddies right to the farm?”
Dale’s voice remained firm. “That’s what civilized people do.”
Amy scoffed. “The world isn’t civilized anymore.”
Dale shook his head slightly. “The world we knew is gone. But we can choose to keep our humanity.”
Andrea sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Fine. I’ll watch Randall. But not because I think you’re right.”
Amy remained silent. Both sisters exchanged one last glance before stepping out of the RV, leaving Dale standing there,
Randall struggled against his chains, his wrists raw from the rope biting into his skin. His voice cracked as he called out“Hey! Somebody! Please—just some water!”
Andrea stood nearby, arms crossed, saying nothing.
Randall swallowed thickly, shifting his gaze toward her. “Are you gonna kill me?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
Andrea didn’t answer.
Outside, Carl walked alongside Shane and Harry “Randall… he’s a kid?” Carl asked.
Shane huffed, shaking his head. “Figure of speech, buddy. He’s around your brother’s age.”
Carl frowned. “Can I see him?”
Both Shane and Harry immediately answered “No.”
Shane rested a hand on Carl’s shoulder. “This is grown-up stuff. Let us handle it.”
Carl watched them walk off, frustration flickering in his eyes as he was left standing alone.
Shane made his way toward where Randall was tied up and spotted Andrea standing guard. His eyes narrowed as he approached her. “Dale put you up to this?” he asked.
Andrea crossed her arms, meeting his gaze evenly.
Shane tilted his head slightly. “If I wanted to go in there and kill him, would you stop me?”
Andrea smirked faintly. “I had a good teacher.”
Shane exhaled sharply. “You buy into Dale’s sob story?”
Andrea didn’t flinch. “Amy and I are with them on this.”
Shane raised a brow. “So you’re just here for Dale, then? The others won’t go through with it. They’ll coward out, and then we got a real big problem.” He gestured vaguely toward the camp. “Every time something goes sideways around here, who do you think’s behind it?”
Andrea didn’t hesitate. “Some might say it’s you. Or Kenny—with his temper.”
Shane scoffed. “No one listens to us.”
Andrea’s expression remained cool. “I told you—more people side with you than you think.”
She motioned toward the tents. “Look around, Shane. More people have set up near you than Rick.”
Shane frowned slightly, scanning the placement of the camp.
Andrea continued, listing off names. “Mark. Kenny. Katjaa. Omid. Christa. T-Dog. Amy. And Harry. All of them will likely vote with you.”
Meanwhile, Randall glanced up, noticing Carl and Sophia standing on the rafters He shifted slightly, lowering his voice. “Hey,” he called quietly. “What’re your names?”
Neither answered.
Randall offered a small, uneasy smile. “Your dad’s the sheriff, right?” he asked Carl. “I like him.”
Still, nothing.
Randall’s gaze flicked between them. “You two siblings? Your mom out there somewhere?”
Carl and Sophia remained silent.
Randall sighed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky,” he murmured. “You still got your family. I lost mine.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice coaxing. “Help me out. I’ll take you to my people—we’ll take good care of you. Just untie me—”
The door slammed open.
Shane barged in, his voice sharp “What the hell are you doing in here?”
Harry followed closely behind, his gaze instantly locking onto Randall. Shane’s expression darkened. “What did he say to you?” he demanded, looking at Carl and Sophia.
Randall quickly shook his head. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”
Harry didn’t hesitate.
He grabbed Randall by the throat, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall with a force that made the entire room shake.
Carl’s voice cracked. “Harry!”
Harry’s grip tightened, his voice low and dangerous. “You ever go near my brother, Sophia, or any of the other kids here—I will snap your goddamn neck.”
Andrea stepped into the shed, looking at Harry “Back off!”
Harry held Randall there for a second longer before releasing him, disgust flashing in his expression.
Shane turned to Carl and Sophia. “March. I’m taking you to your parents.”
Carl swallowed hard but didn’t argue, his eyes darting toward Sophia as they both walked ahead.
Harry lingered for just a second, glaring at Randall with pure disdain before following after them.
As Shane led Carl and Sophia toward Carol, Rick, and Lori, the three adults looked up, their expressions shifting as they saw them coming.
Shane marched Carl and Sophia toward the main camp, his grip firm on Carl’s shoulder as they approached Rick, Lori, and Carol. The three adults immediately straightened, concern flashing in their expressions.
Rick’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his son. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone sharp.
Shane exhaled, frustration laced in his voice. “They were in the barn. With Randall.”
Lori inhaled sharply, her gaze snapping to Carl. “What were you doing in there?” she demanded.
Carl glanced at Sophia, unsure how to answer. Carol placed a protective hand on her daughter’s back, her own worry evident. “Did he say anything to you?” she asked.
Shane didn’t wait for either to speak. “Yeah. He was trying to get in their heads.”
Rick looked at Carl and Sophia. “Neither of you are allowed near that barn,” he said firmly. “Randall is dangerous.”
Shane crossed his arms, his voice sharp. “Men like him? They get in your head, make you feel sorry for them, let your guard down—and then they strike.”
Rick nodded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “From now on, you don’t go anywhere without someone with you.”
Lori stepped beside him “You two can help Carol and me with chores,” she said, gesturing toward the house.
Carl swallowed hard but nodded. Sophia hesitated, then followed as Lori and Carol led them away.
Across the field, Dale made his way to Daryl’s makeshift camp. Daryl glanced up from where he was cleaning his crossbow, his expression flat. “Only reason I set up camp out here was to get away from y’all,” he muttered. “Carol send you?”
Dale shook his head. “She’s not the only one concerned about you.”
Daryl scoffed. “Don’t need a shrink, old man. Group’s broken. Better off by myself.”
Dale watched him carefully. “You act like you don’t care.”
Daryl looked up at him. “’Cause I don’t.”
Dale’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t care if Randall lives or dies?”
Daryl barely hesitated. “Nope.”
Dale took a step closer. “Stand with me. Help save his life.”
Daryl snorted. “Didn’t peg you for a desperate son of a bitch.”
Dale’s voice was steady. “Your opinion matters.”
Daryl shook his head. “No one’s lookin’ for me for anything.”
Dale held his gaze. “Carol does. I am right now. And you have Rick’s ear.”
Daryl scowled. “Rick listens to Shane. And lets him.”
Dale exhaled slowly. “You care about what happened to Travis.”
Daryl’s movements stalled. Dale pressed further. “Torturing someone—that’s not you. You’re a decent man. Rick is too. Shane and Harry? They’re different.”
Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Because Harry killed Ed Peletier?”
Dale’s face went pale, his breath catching.
Daryl smirked bitterly, shaking his head. “Wasn’t hard to figure out.” He leaned back, arms crossed. “Ed beat his wife and kid. Shane and Harry marched him into the woods and came back sayin’ walkers got him.” He scoffed. “Wasn’t hard to figure out. Nobody did ‘cause they didn’t wanna.”
Dale stared at him, shaken.
Daryl stood, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. “This group’s broken.”
Without another word, he walked away.
Lori stepped into the barn, arms crossed as she watched Rick work. He barely glanced up as she approached. “Thought you were with Carol, Carl, and Sophia,” he muttered.
Lori sighed. “We let them go after chores were done. Mark’s guarding the back of the shed so no one else can get in.”
Rick nodded absently, his focus on the noose he was tying. Lori shifted slightly, rubbing her arms against the cold air. “It’s getting colder. I was thinking—”
Rick cut in. “We could clear the barn out. Put lookouts up here.”
Lori nodded. “We could talk to Hershel about staying in the house.”
Rick glanced at her briefly. “You’d rather that?”
“I would.”
Rick hummed in understanding, kneeling down and continuing to prepare the noose. Lori hesitated before speaking. “Is that the best way to do it?”
Rick didn’t stop his work. “First time doing this,” he admitted. “I know how you feel about the death penalty.”
Lori exhaled slowly. “I know the world’s changed.” She paused. “You and Shane agree on this.”
Rick’s hands slowed slightly. “Do you?”
Lori looked at the knot, then at him. “If you think it’s best.”
Rick gave a short nod. For a moment, silence stretched between them before Lori spoke again. “You never told me what Harry said about the night Ed Peletier died.”
Rick stiffened slightly, then changed the subject. “Did you know Dale threatened to shoot Harry in the woods before the barn incident?”
Lori blinked, taken aback. “He did what?”
Rick didn’t answer, just hung the noose.
Outside, Carl walked near the barn when he overheard Carol speaking softly to Ben. “We’ll see Travis, your parents, and your sister again,” she said gently. “They’re in a better place.”
Carl stepped closer, his voice sharp. “No, they’re not,” he said. “Heaven’s just another lie. If you believe that, you’re both idiots.”
Ben’s face fell, his shoulders slumping as Carl turned and walked off.
Carol exhaled sharply, frustration lacing her voice as she made her way toward Lori and Rick. “You need to control Carl,” she snapped. “He was disrespectful—said cruel things to Ben about Travis and his family.”
Lori held up a hand. “We’ll figure it out. It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.”
Rick sighed, pushing himself up. “I’ll talk to him.”
He stepped away, scanning the area before spotting Carl near some trees. “Come here,” he called, his tone firm.
Carl turned reluctantly, walking toward his father. Rick met him with a sharp gaze. “Were you cruel to Ben?” he demanded.
Carl frowned. “No.”
Rick’s jaw tightened. “Carol says you were.”
Carl huffed. “All I said was that believing in Heaven is stupid. Because it is.”
Rick let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple. “Stop. Think about that for a minute.” He looked his son in the eye. “Ben just lost his best friend. He doesn’t know if his family is alive. He wants to believe they’re still out there—somewhere.”
Carl frowned, but Rick continued. “Talk, but think. It’s a good rule for life.”
Carl’s voice was quieter now. “Mom always wanted you to talk more.”
Rick shot him a pointed look. “Don’t change the subject. You owe Ben an apology. You made a mistake—now fix it.”
Carl hesitated, then asked, “Is that why you want to kill that guy?”
Rick froze slightly but didn’t turn. “What?”
Carl shrugged. “I overheard Harry tell Amy they should’ve left that guy to be eaten on the fence.”
Rick turned back to him “It’s different.”
Carl’s gaze lingered on him. “Are you going to hang Randall in the barn?”
Rick clenched his jaw. “Think about how you’re going to apologize to Ben.”
Dale approached Hershel at the pond, the older man wiping sweat from his brow as he leaned against a fence post. “What happened?” Dale asked.
Hershel sighed, gesturing toward the field. “A dozen steer busted through the fence. Been wrangling the runaways all morning.” He paused, giving Dale a knowing look. “But you’re not here to talk cattle.”
Dale nodded, his tone serious. “The boy.”
Hershel’s expression hardened. “The prisoner.”
“His name is Randall,” Dale said firmly.
Hershel shook his head. “I don’t want to know. I’ll leave it to Rick to decide his fate.”
Dale frowned. “This is your home.”
Hershel’s gaze didn’t waver. “And I don’t want Randall near my daughters. I don’t care how they get rid of him.”
Dale’s voice sharpened. “It’s an execution.”
“I don’t want to know.”
Dale stepped closer. “You’re a man with convictions.”
Hershel’s eyes flickered with something “I thought I was. But I’ve made too many mistakes.”
Dale hesitated before asking, “Talk to Randall before you make up your mind.”
Hershel shook his head, turning away. “No.”
Without another word, he walked off, leaving Dale standing by the pond, frustration etched across his face.
Meanwhile, at the camp, Carl and Sophia sneaked over to Daryl’s setup, their curiosity leading them to his collection of trinkets. Carl grinned as he climbed onto Daryl’s motorcycle, pretending to rev the engine. His eyes landed on Daryl’s gun, tucked neatly to the side. He grabbed it, holding it up as Sophia stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Let’s go,” Carl said, his voice filled with excitement.
The two ventured into the woods. They stumbled upon a walker stuck in the mud, its decayed body struggling to move. Carl raised the gun, aiming it at the creature. Sophia hesitated, her voice trembling. “I don’t like this.”
Carl smirked. “It can’t get us.”
The walker groaned, its movements frantic as Carl and Sophia began throwing rocks at it, their laughter echoing through the trees.
Back at camp, Harry and Shane loaded ammo into a car. Shane glanced up as Dale approached. “What do you want?” Shane asked, his tone sharp.
“I want to change your minds,” Dale said.
Shane scoffed, shaking his head. Harry muttered under his breath, clearly unimpressed.
Dale pressed on. “I know we don’t see eye to eye on much.”
Shane smirked. “That’s an understatement.”
Dale’s voice remained steady. “Let’s talk about this like men.”
Harry’s frustration boiled over. “Are you blind to the fact that we’re in danger?”
“No,” Dale said firmly. “But there are nearly two dozen of us at camp—and one of Randall.”
Shane’s expression darkened. “There are thirty of Randall’s group.”
“Killing Randall won’t change that,” Dale argued. “But it will change us.”
Harry scoffed, shaking his head. Shane smirked faintly. “You’ve got balls, Dale.”
Shane’s tone shifted slightly. “When we gather and talk about this—if you can convince them to spare Randall, Harry and I will go along with it.”
Harry looked at him in surprise, but Shane continued. “When Randall kills someone, it’ll be on you alone.”
The two walked off, leaving Dale standing there.
On the porch, Rick stood beside Lori, his gaze distant. “It’s almost time,” Lori said softly. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”
Rick sighed. “It’s not easy for any of us. But I’ve thought it through. Made the call. I’m ready to do it.”
Lori hesitated. “Shane or Daryl could.”
Rick shook his head. “It has to be me.”
He paused, his voice quieter now. “Maybe Harry was right. We should’ve left Randall on that fence post.”
Rick’s gaze hardened. “I have to keep everyone safe. That’s what I’ll do.”
Lori’s voice softened. “What about Dale? We can’t let him get away with pointing a rifle at Harry’s chest. No matter what Harry did.”
Rick exhaled sharply. “I’ll talk to him after the vote.”
Lori nodded. “I’ll support you. Whatever you decide.”
Back in the woods, Carl and Sophia continued throwing rocks at the walker, their laughter fading as the creature struggled harder. Carl stepped closer, aiming the gun at its head, searching for a clean shot. The walker suddenly broke free, lunging toward them. Carl and Sophia screamed, knocking it away before turning and running as fast as they could.
The walker groaned, dragging itself after them, but the children were already gone.
The group gathered in the living room for the vote. Carl, Sophia, Duck, Ben, Billy, and Clementine had been taken to Beth and Jimmy, leaving the adults to vote. They exchanged uneasy glances as they waited.
Dale broke the silence first. “How are we doing this?”
Andrea leaned forward slightly. “Does it have to be unanimous?”
Lori shook her head. “Majority rules.”
Rick nodded. “Let’s see where everyone stands.”
Shane’s voice cut through the room. “There’s only one way forward.”
Dale’s frustration boiled over. “Killing Randall? Why are we even voting? It’s clear which way this is going.”
Rick shook his head “If people believe we should spare Randall, I want to know.”
Dale scoffed. “It’s just me, Doug, Glenn, and Katjaa.”
The three exchanged uneasy glances, Doug speaking up hesitantly. “We think Dale’s right about some things. But not this.”
Dale’s voice sharpened. “You’re scared.”
Doug nodded. “Randall isn’t one of us. I’ve lost too many people—I can’t stand losing anyone else.”
Dale turned to Maggie, Otis, and Patricia. “What about you?”
Maggie hesitated. “What if we keep him prisoner?”
Daryl shook his head. “Just another mouth to feed.”
Hershel added quietly, “It could be a lean winter.”
Lori interjected. “We could ration better.”
Dale pressed on. “He could be an asset. Let him prove himself.”
Maggie nodded slightly. “We could have an escort on him.”
Shane’s voice was sharp. “Who’s gonna do that?”
Dale didn’t hesitate. “I will.”
Rick shook his head. “I don’t think anyone should be walking around with Randall.”
Lori added, “I wouldn’t feel safe unless he was tied up.”
Andrea frowned. “We can’t chain him up and sentence him to hard labor.”
Shane leaned forward “Let him join us, maybe he’s helpful and nice. Then we let our guard down, and he brings back his group to kill us all.”
Dale’s voice rose. “You’d kill Randall for something he might not do? If we do this, we’re saying there’s no hope. Rule of law is dead. Civilization is gone.”
Shane shook his head, exhaling sharply. Hershel spoke up. “Could we drive farther out and leave him?”
Harry’s voice was cold. “He knows where the farm is.”
Glenn nodded. “We can’t put our people at risk.”
Patricia’s voice trembled. “How would we do it? Would he suffer?”
Shane shrugged. “Hang him. Snap his neck.”
Rick’s tone was quieter. “We could shoot him.”
T-Dog asked hesitantly, “What about the body?”
Dale’s frustration boiled over. “You’re talking about this like it’s already decided.”
Daryl leaned back, his voice sharp. “You’ve been talking all day, going in circles. You wanna do that again?”
Dale’s voice cracked as he yelled, “It’s a young man’s life! It’s worth more than a five-minute conversation. Is this what it’s come to? Killing someone because we can’t decide what to do with him? Rick saved Randall, and now look at us. We tortured him, and now we’re planning to kill him. How are we better than Randall’s group?”
Carley snapped, “You can’t be serious.”
Shane shook his head. “We all know what needs to be done.”
Kenny nodded. “Damn right we do.”
Rick’s voice softened. “Dale’s right. We can’t leave any stone unturned.”
Andrea frowned. “What’s the solution, then?”
Dale’s voice was quieter now. “We work on it.”
Carol’s voice cut through the room. “Stop it. I’m sick of everyone arguing and fighting. You can’t ask us to decide something like this. Just decide—and leave me out of it.”
“Abstaining is as good as killing Randall yourself.”
“That’s enough.”
He looked around the room. “Anyone have the floor before the final decision?”
Silence.
Dale’s voice was quiet but pointed. “Rick, you once said we don’t kill the living.”
Rick’s gaze hardened. “That was before the living tried to kill us.”
Dale’s voice cracked. “If we do this, the old world is dead. This new world is ugly, harsh—survival of the fittest. I don’t want to live in that world. I don’t think any of you do either. I can’t.”
He looked around the room, his voice pleading. “Do the right thing.”
No one spoke.
Dale’s voice trembled. “Is anyone with me?”
Andrea finally broke the silence. “You’re right. We should do something else.”
No one else said anything.
Dale stood, his frustration evident as he walked out of the room. He passed Daryl, his voice bitter. “You’re right. This group is broken.”
Later, The barn was silent except for the sound of footsteps as Harry, Rick, Shane, Daryl, and Kenny led a bound Randall inside. Rick pointed to a spot near the center. “Put him there,” he ordered.
Shane stepped forward, blindfolding Randall as the man began to panic, his voice trembling. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything. Please!”
Rick pulled out his revolver, his expression blank as Randall was forced to kneel. Daryl held him down.
“Final words?”
Randall sobbed, his words barely coherent. “Don’t kill me. Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t.”
Rick raised his gun, but before he could pull the trigger, Carl’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Do it.”
The group turned, stunned to see the boy standing there. Harry stared at his little brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Shane moved quickly, grabbing Carl and pushing him out of the barn. “This isn’t for you,” he snapped, his tone firm.
Rick lowered his revolver, his jaw tightening as he processed what had just happened. Harry growled in frustration, reaching for his pistol. “I’ll do it.”
Rick grabbed his arm, his voice sharp. “No.”
Father and son locked eyes, tension between them. Rick’s grip didn’t waver, and Harry finally relented.
Rick turned to Kenny and Daryl. “Take him back to the shed.”
The two men nodded, hauling Randall to his feet as Shane stormed out of the barn, his frustration evident. Harry followed.
Rick exhaled, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turned to Carl. “Come on,” he said, his voice softer now.
Back at the camp, Rick addressed the group. “We’ll keep Randall in custody for now.”
Andrea nodded. “I’ll find Dale.”
Lori stepped forward, her gaze on Carl. “Go to the tent.”
Rick shook his head. “He followed us. He wanted to watch. I couldn’t do it in front of him. Harry damn near did it anyway, without caring if his little brother saw.”
Lori looked away, her expression conflicted, before pulling Rick into a hug.
Meanwhile, in the field, Dale walked alone, his thoughts heavy. He stopped abruptly, his eyes landing on a gutted cow. Before he could react, a walker emerged from the shadows, lunging at him. Dale tried to fight it off, but the creature tackled him, its hands tearing into his stomach.
Dale’s screams echoed across the field, drawing the group’s attention. They ran toward the sound, their hearts pounding as they reached him. Daryl moved quickly, killing the walker with a stab to its head.
The group gathered around Dale, their faces pale as they took in the sight of his injuries. Rick yelled for Hershel, but the older man shook his head grimly. “He won’t survive the trip back to the house. There’s nothing we can do.”
Amy sobbed, burying her face in Harry’s chest as the reality of the situation sank in. Nearby, Sophia and Carl exchanged horrified glances, recognizing the walker as the one they had been taunting earlier. Without a word, they turned and ran, guilt and fear etched across their faces.
Rick knelt beside Dale, his revolver in hand. But as he looked into the man’s eyes, he found he couldn’t do it. His hand trembled, and he lowered the gun.
Daryl stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he pulled out his own gun. Memories of his Uncle Jesse flashed through his mind—how Jesse had put down his father, Will Dixon, when he had been in a similar state.
“Sorry, brother,” Daryl murmured, echoing Jesse’s words before pulling the trigger.