8:47 AM
I stood at the edge of the treeline where Rick's group decided to set camp. Now filed forward one by one, each dropping their weapons into the canvas bag Alicia held open.
Rick went first, laying down his revolver without protest. Shane followed, his brows twitching, but he remained silent. Glenn placed the shotgun reluctantly, and even Daryl, with a muttered curse under his breath, handed over his crossbow.
When it came to Andrea, the rhythm faltered. She froze, clutching the side of her t-shirt, eyes flicking across the expectant faces.
"I-I lost the gun," she said.
The word fell flat. Silence stretched as accusing gazes fell on her. It was just too suspicious, convenient, and I could see the same suspicion etched in every face around me.
"Andrea," Rick said evenly, gesturing for her to hand it over.
"Just give it to him," Lori spoke from the side, her voice sharp.
She frowned at the implications, torn between defensiveness and the knowledge that protest only made her look guiltier. "I'm telling the truth."
Even though she couldn't see my eyes because of the shades, she knew I was staring her down with doubt and suspicion.
"Where?" I asked, my tone more interrogation than question.
She hesitated, maybe from embarrassment, then answered. "When I was attacked in the forest… the geek knocked it out of my hand. You can ask them, they were there."
Glenn spoke up almost immediately, remembering. Carol nodded along, then Shawn, who stood behind me, and Shane—the two who had pulled her out of the struggle.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain before I nodded. "Next."
Andrea stepped aside, shoulders sagging, her hand unconsciously at her empty hip, as if mourning what should have been there—she really wasn't lying about losing the gun, eh?
Instead, she missed it; that pistol had history, and Dale understood it more than anyone.
She had planned to give it to Amy on her birthday, but now she had lost both the time and the souvenir.
Dale shuffled forward next, his gaze flickering to Andrea, before lowering his own rifle. But before he could drop it in the bag. Rick stepped in.
"I do request one rifleman on lookout," he said calmly, voice measured, almost casual
I studied him.
"Our people would feel a lot safer, less inclined to carry a gun."
I had already spoken with Hershel, and I knew Rick well enough to recognize his methods. He was no brute, at least not yet. He didn't demand; he shifted boundaries until everyone else thought the given compromise was acceptable.
Overton's window at work.
Is this what they call Talk-no-jutsu? I wondered, good thing it doesn't work on me—I just wanted a lookout for the farm, anyway.
So I nodded.
***
9:14 AM
I sat on the couch in the living room, Maggie pressed against my side, her head resting on my shoulder. To anyone, it might have looked natural, casual—something lovers did without thought. To me, it was weird. I liked how it felt; however, not so much how it made me feel.
On Maggie's other side sat Alicia, stiff as a blade. She didn't say anything, but her eyes betrayed her, quick, restless glances toward Maggie, the quiet irritation in her eyes every time Maggie leaned a little closer into me.
Across from us, Shawn lounged in the chair, arms folded, eyes fixed on the door. He was waiting, like the rest of us, for Hershel and Beth to return from Carl's room.
The rest of Rick's people were outside, pitching tents and parking their vehicles into neat rows like toy blocks, building themselves a makeshift fortress. Only the house still held the calm of walls and a roof.
Should I leave already?
Creak~
The door groaned as Hershel stepped through. Beth trailed behind him, a bucket in her hands. Not as bloody as last night. Her eyes flicked to me, then to Maggie, then away, quick as if she'd seen something she shouldn't.
"We're running short of what you brought," Hershel said, a long, exhausted sigh escaping him.
Maggie looked at her, then at me, before she shot up from the couch, embarrassed about something. "I'll make a run into town."
The look Hershel gave her was sharp, disapproving, but he didn't argue. He turned to me instead, His gaze expectant.
Alright, father-in-law.
I rose smoothly, brushing a hand through Maggie's hair as I did. "I'll do it."
I'll take care of your daughter
Relief softened Hershel's face, brief, fragile relief, before Maggie smashed it flat.
"I'll go with you," she said firmly, like she owed it to me, already turning toward me.
"That won't be necessary."
Alicia's voice cut in before I could answer. She stood, her posture straight, tone cool. "Two of us will be enough." Then, without missing a beat, she looked directly at Hershel. "Besides, I'm sure you've got plenty of work for your daughter around the farm."
Hershel latched onto her words like a drowning man to driftwood. He nodded, quickly, almost too quickly. "Of course, we've got plenty of work here."
Maggie's eyes narrowed, darting from her father to Alicia, glaring like a cat sizing up a rival. Fortunately fight didn't come. Instead, she let out a sigh and turned back to me.
Her lips brushed my cheek, a fleeting kiss warm enough to stay a while. "I'll be waiting."
I gave her a short, quiet nod. Hershel cleared his throat and retreated down the hall, as though afraid of what he'd see if he lingered.
Shawn didn't bother hiding his smirk. He already knew about us. Beth, on the other hand, seemed caught in her own confusion. She drifted toward the washroom, eyes flicking between us and her father, puzzled that he had said nothing at all.
I expected more from him. Both of them thought.
I turned to Alicia, "Go check outside, tell them if they need something, make a list." Alicia nodded quietly and headed out.
"I need to talk to you," Maggie said. I looked at her. What was that sudden change in her voice?
.
.
.
I stepped inside Maggie's room, as she trailed close behind me like a shadow. The door clicked and shut, and when I turned, she was already staring at me.
"What?" I asked.
Silent treatment, that's what I got. Her expression was tight, unsettled, before she finally spoke.
"Are you fucking her as well?"
I frowned. "Who? Alicia?"
She didn't answer and just stared.
"No," I said, answering honestly.
Not yet.
She didn't relax, not even a breath of relief. Instead, she moved closer, her hand trailing up my abs, her eyes searching mine.
"Then…" She inched closer, "Did you fuck Andrea this morning?"
That caught me, my brows knit. "What? Where the hell did you get that from?"
"She's wearing my clothes, why is that?" She placed her hand on my chest, looking up at my face, "Did you fuck here, in my room?"
Her irritation was visible on her face, but beneath it… There was something else. Her tone wasn't edged, her breath wasn't steady. It was like she was imagining it while accusing me.
I stood there, caught between whether to tell her or not, 'Honesty is the best policy.' That's a bullshit maxim… but it might just work here.
—Outside
Rick stood in the shade, his skin no longer ghostly pale as it had been hours ago, though the weight og his recovery still clung to him. Shane took charge, barking out instructions as they began arranging the camp, his eyes flicking to Rick every so often, wanting to join them, but they refused to take his, not when he looked like a geek himself.
Andrea, Amy, Dale, and Glenn busied themselves with lodging, rolling out blankets and tarps, trying to carve some semblance of order in chaos.. Daryl drove the cars into formation.
Carol moved quietly through the mess, taking on the smaller, thankless job, picking through the wreck the RV had become, checking what could be salvaged from items hastily thrown inside when they left the quarry.
The rhythm of the work faltered as heads turned toward the movement at the edge of camp.
The girl walked in with a steady, unhurried stride, her movement an uncanny resemblance to Wesker. Her off-white t-shirt clung faintly with the day's sweat, black jeans scuffed with travel, a gun holster strapped tight around her thigh, carrying a Glock 19 and extra mags. Just like Wesker.
Glenn froze, his eyes following her longer than they should have, his lips parting in the faintest of gulps before he quickly looked down at the tarp in his hands.
Rick instinctively stepped forward, closing the distance, his gaze already questioning what she had to say.
"Make a list if your group needs any kind of medication or supplies," she said, voice clear, carrying across the camp.
A few exchanged looks of surprise, unsure whether they'd heard her right.
Alicia caught it, her expression tightening with mild impatience. "Wesker and I are heading into town in twenty minutes. Be quick."
A/N[I edited Chapter 5 of Act 2 because. I didn't know Andrea's gun was given to her by her father and not Dale. I'll write the edit here so you don't go skimming through the whole chapter for one dialogue change:
Dale to Andrea:
"How about the gun I gave you?" Changed to —> "How about your gun? The one your dad gave you."]
****
Read +3 or +7 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
First_Endless