Chapter 15: The Farm
The gunshot cracked through the Georgia afternoon like the world's spine breaking, and Jake's blood turned to ice before his conscious mind even processed what he'd heard. They'd been searching for Sophia for three days, combing through forests that seemed to swallow sound and hope in equal measure, when the sharp report echoed across the trees.
"That came from the south," Rick said, his hand already moving to his Colt Python. "Close. Maybe half a mile."
Jake's death sense prickled with unease, but he couldn't detect anything specific—no walkers in range, no immediate threats. Just the gnawing anxiety that had become his constant companion since Sophia's disappearance.
They found the source ten minutes later: Carl Grimes lying in a spreading pool of blood, his small body frighteningly still among the fallen leaves. A heavyset man in hunting gear knelt beside him, his face gray with shock and horror.
"I didn't see him," the man was saying, his voice thick with guilt. "Was tracking a deer, and the boy just... he came out of nowhere."
Jake's medical training overrode everything else—panic, fear, the crushing weight of seeing another child in mortal danger. He dropped to his knees beside Carl, hands moving with practiced efficiency as he assessed the damage.
Gunshot wound to the chest. High-velocity round, probably a hunting rifle. The bullet had missed the heart but punctured the lung, and there was internal bleeding that would kill the boy in minutes without immediate intervention.
"We need to get him to a hospital," Lori said, her voice breaking on the words.
"No hospitals," the hunter—Otis, he introduced himself—said grimly. "But there's a veterinarian nearby. Hershel Greene. He's treated people before when regular doctors weren't available."
Jake was already working, his hands moving over Carl's chest while he reached for his alchemy. The bullet had to come out, but first he needed to stabilize the bleeding. He pressed his palms against the wound and felt for the damaged tissue with senses both medical and mystical.
"Sterilize. First rule of trauma surgery—infection kills more people than bullets."
Jake's power flowed through his hands, transmuting bacteria and foreign contaminants at the molecular level. He couldn't heal the wound directly—that would require too much energy and raise too many questions—but he could make sure it stayed clean while they got Carl to proper medical care.
"What are you doing?" Rick asked, his voice tight with barely controlled panic.
"Buying us time," Jake replied, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort. "The wound's clean now, but he's still bleeding internally. We need to move fast."
Otis and Shane rigged a stretcher from branches and jackets, and they carried Carl through the forest with desperate urgency. Jake walked beside the improvised gurney, one hand on Carl's wrist to monitor his pulse, the other ready to use his alchemy if the boy started to crash.
Hershel's farm appeared through the trees like a vision from a gentler world—white farmhouse, red barn, pastures that spoke of peace and permanence. But Jake's death sense was already screaming warnings he couldn't voice, detecting something wrong with the very air around the property.
The barn. There was something about the barn that made his skin crawl.
But Carl's condition took priority over mysterious unease. They carried him into the farmhouse, where an elderly man with a white beard and gentle eyes took charge with the calm authority of someone accustomed to medical emergencies.
"I'm Dr. Hershel Greene," he said, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. "Veterinarian, but I've treated my share of people over the years. Let's see what we're dealing with."
The surgery that followed was a masterclass in improvised medicine. Hershel worked with steady hands and unwavering focus, while Jake assisted with techniques that made the older man's eyebrows rise in surprise.
"Your sterilization methods are remarkable," Hershel murmured as Jake transmuted rust and bacteria from a pair of forceps, leaving them gleaming like they'd just come from an autoclave. "Where did you study?"
"Desperate necessity is a harsh teacher," Jake replied, which was true enough in its own way.
He used his alchemy sparingly, subtly—sterilizing instruments, ensuring perfect cleanliness, even slightly accelerating Carl's cellular repair by trading his own energy. It was dangerous work, requiring precise control and enormous concentration, but the boy's life hung in the balance.
When they finally extracted the bullet and closed the incision, Carl was breathing easier, his color improved. He would live, barring complications.
Jake stumbled outside for air and immediately collapsed.
The power drain hit him like a freight train—his vision blurred, his legs buckled, and he found himself sitting hard on the farmhouse porch with his head spinning like a carnival ride. The cost of healing was always high, but using his abilities so extensively while exhausted had pushed him past his limits.
"Hey." A soft voice made him look up. Maggie Greene stood above him, concern creasing her features. "You pushed yourself too hard for him."
"He's a kid," Jake managed, accepting the glass of water she offered. "Worth it."
Maggie settled beside him on the porch steps, close enough that he could smell her shampoo and the lingering scent of horses that clung to her clothes. "You really care about these people. Your group."
"They're family," Jake said simply. "Not by blood, but... yeah. Family."
Something shifted in Maggie's expression—appreciation, maybe, or recognition of a kindred spirit. She stayed with him while he recovered, talking quietly about the farm, her father, the strange new world they were all trying to navigate. Jake found himself drawn to her voice, her laugh, the way she gestured when she was excited about something.
He tried not to stare at her face, but he failed completely. And when she caught him looking, she didn't seem to mind.
"This is dangerous territory. She's supposed to be with Glenn. In the show, they fall in love, build something real together. What right do I have to interfere with that?"
But sitting there in the golden afternoon light, listening to Maggie talk about her hopes for the future, Jake found it hard to care about television storylines. This was real life, with real people making real choices. And if one of those choices involved a connection between him and the woman beside him...
Well, maybe some things were worth the risk.
As evening approached and Jake felt steady enough to walk, he made an excuse to explore the property. The barn drew him like a magnet, that sense of wrongness growing stronger with each step.
At forty feet away, his death sense began to clarify what it was detecting. At twenty feet, the truth hit him like a physical blow.
Fourteen hollow voids. Fourteen walkers trapped inside the barn.
Jake stared at the weathered wood and felt his stomach drop. He knew exactly what this meant, remembered every detail of the television episode where this secret was revealed. Hershel was keeping walkers in his barn, believing they were sick people who could be cured. The group would eventually discover the truth, leading to conflict and tragedy.
And somewhere among those fourteen voids, Sophia Peletier would eventually be added to the count.
Jake tried to speak, to warn someone, to do anything that might prevent the coming disaster. But his throat seized up, the speech block clamping down with merciless efficiency.
"Sophia is in the barn."
The words wouldn't come. Not now, not ever. He was trapped again by cosmic censorship, forced to watch tragedy unfold when a few simple words could prevent it.
Jake turned away from the barn and walked back toward the farmhouse, nausea churning in his stomach. Somewhere behind him, fourteen walkers shuffled in the darkness, waiting for the revelation that would tear the group apart.
And he was powerless to stop it.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
Can't wait for the next chapter of [ In The Walking Dead With 3 Wishes ](up to chapter 40 )?
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them (20+ chapters ahead!). No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1