Night had fallen. Everyone sat around the campfire, eating and warming themselves, the scene peaceful and harmonious.
Selene and the Dixon brothers sat by one of the fires. Though they appeared relaxed, their eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, alert for any signs of the zombie horde.
If possible, Selene would have told them exactly when the horde would arrive—but that wasn't realistic.
At that moment, she noticed Amy suddenly stand up. Selene immediately signaled for Merle to stay alert, motioning for Daryl to follow as they trailed after her.
Amy entered the RV.
In the original plot, this was the moment Amy went to get the meal boxes.
Selene glanced around. In the distance, a shadow was slowly approaching the camp.
"Look over there. What's that?" Selene said quietly.
Daryl squinted. A moment later, his eyes widened. "Walkers!" In an instant, the peaceful atmosphere shattered.
Warned by Selene, Merle also spotted movement from another direction.
Without hesitation, Selene fired several flares into the sky.
Bang! Bang!
The flares burst into bright light, illuminating the entire campsite.
Everyone froze. Under the harsh glow, they could see it clearly—the camp was surrounded. From the hilltop downward stretched a dense, writhing mass. Hundreds of zombies were trudging toward them, their rotting throats emitting guttural howls.
"Everyone, into the vehicles! Forget the supplies! We'll punch through before they fully surround us!" Rick shouted, voice booming as he commanded the group into action.
Thanks to Selene's early warning, they had precious seconds to react. Abandoning their leftover supplies, everyone rushed into the trucks and RV. The guns they had brought back were distributed to each person.
"Floor it! Get us out of here!" Merle yelled as the engines roared to life.
Rick drove the truck, Dale took the RV, and Merle handled the patrol car.
Before the horde could close in, they accelerated, building speed.
The RV was too heavy to gain momentum quickly, so Rick's truck led the charge, with Merle's car covering the rear.
Three steel beasts slammed into the horde head-on.
Splurt!
With sickening impacts, countless fragments of decayed flesh splattered across the vehicles. In moments, the windshields were smeared with black-red gore.
Inside, everyone held their weapons tightly, firing at any zombies that got too close. Gunfire filled the night—rifles, submachine guns, pistols—blending into a deafening chorus that tore apart the silence.
Amidst the rain of flesh and blood, the vehicles finally broke free of the encirclement.
...
By dawn, the three vehicles rolled to a stop beside an abandoned gas station. They looked like they had driven straight out of hell.
Rick's truck, in particular, was plastered with dark chunks of flesh and congealed blood.
"Jim, T, you two stay here and protect everyone," Shane ordered, handing them each a rifle before turning to the others.
Selene, Glenn, Rick, Shane, Merle, and Daryl—six in total—approached the gas station cautiously.
"This place hasn't been looted yet," Rick said, looking at the convenience store attached to the station. Its windows were intact, the shelves still visible inside.
"If we can avoid using guns, don't fire. Too much noise will draw them in," Selene murmured, opening the door. With an axe in one hand and a silenced pistol in the other, she slipped inside first without looking back.
"Got it," Daryl replied, signaling the others to stay quiet before following with his flashlight.
The store was dark and reeked of decay.
Soon, during their search, they found two female zombies at the corner of an aisle—wearing uniforms. Likely former store clerks.
Selene and Daryl exchanged a glance and nodded.
Bip!Thwip!
A bullet and a crossbow bolt flew at once, piercing through both zombies' skulls. Their heads exploded, brains splattering across the wall. Daryl stepped forward, retrieved his bolt, and motioned for everyone to continue checking.
"Just two clerks. No others." Selene scanned the shop one last time. "Grab what you need and call the others once it's clear."
They searched every corner, finding no other threats.
"Oh ho! Cigarettes—and whiskey!" Daryl grinned, holding up a bottle triumphantly.
Glenn had gathered plenty of compressed biscuits and canned food. Though dusty, they hadn't been looted.
Exhausted, Rick glanced around and stepped out of the gas station. "All clear. Everyone can come out—it's safe for now."
The group gathered beside the station, staring at the vehicles caked in rotten flesh and foul stench. The realization slowly sank in—they had escaped.
Each person felt the bittersweet relief of survival.
Under the dim morning light, Rick looked at the weary faces of the survivors and decided they needed to rest.
A cheer went up—no one knew who started it. Then, all at once, they were laughing, crying, embracing. After surviving death together, no one held back their emotions.
"We should talk about what to do next."
By noon, Shane stepped forward to address everyone.
Before Rick's arrival, Shane had been the group's leader—after all, he had led them out of Atlanta. He was capable and decisive.
"CDC!" Rick suddenly said. "The Center for Disease Control—they might be working on a cure."
"Cure?" Shane chuckled. "They're not people anymore, Rick. The CDC's probably gone by now."
Shane was built for this world—adaptable, pragmatic. Rick, however, still clung to ideals that no longer applied.
Rick frowned. "I don't think we should give up hope. There must be a cure—something that can stop this."
His words revealed his lingering naivety. He still thought of zombies as sick humans rather than monsters. His leadership wasn't in question yet—but his understanding of reality was.
While the group debated, Glenn noticed Daryl sitting off to the side, drinking silently. "Hey man, what's on your mind?"
"This afternoon, we're leaving," Selene said for him.
If only Merle had chosen to go, no one would have cared much. But when Selene and Daryl also announced their departure, everyone's attention turned sharply. Those three were among the strongest in the group—losing them would weaken the camp significantly.
"Why? Is something wrong with the group? If it's—" Rick began, confused.
"You're going to the CDC. We're not," Merle interrupted bluntly. "If the government were that efficient, we wouldn't be here. You're still too naive."
In the end, no amount of persuasion could change their minds. That afternoon, everyone watched silently as the Dixon brothers and Selene walked away, their figures fading into the horizon.
...
Beneath the vast Georgia sky, a car sped down the highway.
"Alright, I followed you out here," Daryl said, giving Merle a questioning look. "Now are you gonna tell me what this is all about?"
Merle grinned around his cigar. He was in high spirits—away from the burdens of the group, finally free to do things his own way.
Instead of answering, he glanced toward Selene. "Boss, where to now?"
Watching the sun sink toward the horizon, Selene replied, "We'll find a place to rest first."
Following her instructions, Merle pulled over to a wide clearing off the road. The area was open, making it easy to spot approaching zombies—safe enough for the night.
The three got out. Before either brother could speak, Selene raised a hand, and a spatial portal opened before their eyes. Without acknowledging their shock, she reached through and pulled out several crates of supplies. "Eat something and rest. We'll move again later."
Merle, having already seen her powers, remained calm. "Now you know why I'm sticking with the boss," he said casually to Daryl.
Daryl stared wide-eyed. "That... that's a superpower?"
The shock faded quickly. In a world of zombies, nothing seemed impossible anymore. His ability to adapt was strong.
Selene spread a map across the car hood. "Tell me—where can we find a place with high walls, good supplies, and plenty of weapons?"
"An asylum? Police station? Wait... a prison!" Merle snapped his fingers, realization dawning. He had done time before, so the thought came naturally.
"Exactly," Selene nodded. "Do you remember where that prison was?" She handed him the map and a pen.
The map wasn't new—she had picked it up in Atlanta. Though it didn't mark prison locations, Merle could easily recall the general area.
He hesitated. "It's not close. Two days, maybe more, if everything goes smooth."
Selene nodded. "A prison is perfect—isolated from population centers, self-sustaining, stocked with food, water, weapons, and defenses. It's ready-made for survival."
"Tomorrow we'll head out. For now, rest." She paused, then added, "I have something for you both."
Opening another portal, she retrieved two small blue vials and handed them over.
"These are...?" Daryl asked, examining the glowing liquid.
"Body enhancement serums," Selene said. "Oral intake. You'll feel tearing pain through your muscles for a short while."
Merle's eyes widened. A way to get stronger? Without hesitation, he uncorked the vial and downed it in one gulp. Daryl followed suit.
Moments later, both men grit their teeth as pain wracked their bodies. Then, as the sensation faded, warmth surged through their veins—a flood of power unlike anything they'd felt before.
Merle exhaled sharply, a grin spreading across his face. "Heh. Knew I was right to follow you, boss. Guess my life's yours now."
Thud!
Selene dropped a heavy supply crate beside them. "There's military gear inside. Equip yourselves and rest. We move out at dawn."