Chapter 28: The Horde
The gunshots had been like a dinner bell for every walker within five miles of Hershel's farm. Jake's death sense painted the approaching threat in stark detail—not dozens, but hundreds of shambling corpses drawn by the promise of fresh meat and chaos.
"How many?" Rick shouted over the growing moans that echoed from every direction.
Jake tried to extend his awareness to its maximum range, but the sheer number of dead minds pressed against his consciousness like a psychic avalanche. "Too many to count. Hundreds, maybe more."
The farm's peaceful evening was shattered as the first wave of walkers emerged from the tree line. They came from every direction—some drawn by Shane's gunfire, others following the sounds of panic and desperate activity. The careful perimeter Hershel had maintained was meaningless against this kind of assault.
"We can't hold this position," Jake gasped, reaching for his necromancy despite the exhaustion already weighing on his system. "There are too many."
But he had to try. Five walker corpses from the farm's makeshift graveyard responded to his call, lurching upright to shamble toward their still-walking kin. It was the most he'd ever attempted to control simultaneously, and the strain was immediate and brutal.
Blood poured from his nose as he commanded his undead soldiers to attack the advancing horde. For thirty minutes, he held the line through pure force of will, watching his raised walkers tear into their mindless brethren while the group fought desperately around him.
It wasn't enough. For every walker they put down, three more took its place. The farm was being overrun by a tide of hungry dead that no amount of gunfire or supernatural intervention could stop.
Then Jake heard Lori scream from inside the farmhouse.
He found her in the kitchen, doubled over in pain while Carl stood helplessly beside her. Hershel was already there, his medical bag open and his face grim with professional concern.
"The stress triggered early labor," Hershel explained without looking up. "She's weeks from term, but the contractions are getting stronger."
Jake knelt beside Lori, his hands already reaching for his alchemy despite the dangerous levels of exhaustion he was experiencing. This was beyond normal healing—this required him to transmute the very chemistry of her bloodstream, to neutralize stress hormones and stabilize systems that evolution had designed to be unstoppable.
"This is going to hurt," he warned, placing his palms on Lori's swollen abdomen.
The transmutation was the most complex he'd ever attempted, requiring him to identify and alter specific molecular compounds while leaving everything else untouched. He felt Lori's body chemistry like a vast, complicated symphony, and he was trying to change individual notes without destroying the entire composition.
"Too much. This is too much. I'm going to kill her, kill myself, kill everyone if I get this wrong. But if I don't try, she dies anyway, and the baby with her."
Jake pushed deeper, trading his own life force to stabilize hers. The stress hormones in her system began to break down, replaced by compounds that would calm the premature contractions. Her blood pressure normalized, her heart rate steadied, and slowly—miraculously—the labor pains began to subside.
"We need to go," Jake whispered, his voice barely audible as consciousness began to slip away. "Now. Before—"
He collapsed before he could finish the sentence, his overtaxed nervous system finally surrendering to the combined strain of necromancy and advanced alchemy. The last thing he saw was Rick's face appearing in the doorway, painted with urgency and fear.
"The farm's lost," Rick was saying. "We evacuate now or we don't evacuate at all."
Jake woke to the sensation of movement and the acrid smell of smoke. He was lying in the back of Daryl's pickup truck, his head cushioned in Carol's lap while Sophia sat pressed against her mother's side. Through the rear window, he could see Hershel's farm burning in the distance, orange flames reaching toward the star-filled sky.
"How long?" he asked weakly.
"Two hours," Carol replied, her hand stroking his hair with maternal gentleness. "You've been unconscious since the evacuation."
Jake tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. His head felt like it had been split open with an axe, and every muscle in his body ached with the deep exhaustion that came from pushing his powers too far.
"The others?"
Carol's face tightened with grief. "Patricia and Jimmy didn't make it. Andrea got separated in the chaos—we don't know if she's alive or dead. Everyone else is accounted for, but we're scattered. Different vehicles, no established meeting point."
Jake closed his eyes and tried not to think about the lives that could have been saved if he'd been stronger, faster, more capable. In the original timeline, these same people had died, but that didn't make their deaths any easier to bear.
At least Lori was alive. At least her unborn child had a chance at life.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"North," Daryl called back from the driver's seat. "Away from the horde, away from the fire. Rick's got some idea about a prison he heard mentioned on the radio. Might be secure, might be empty."
Jake almost smiled despite everything. The prison. Of course they'd end up at the prison. Some things were too fundamental to the story to be changed, even by supernatural interference.
But this time would be different. This time, Jake would be ready for whatever challenges awaited them. He'd learned to use his powers more effectively, had earned the group's trust despite the cost, had saved lives that the original timeline had claimed.
As Daryl's truck rolled through the Georgia darkness, carrying its cargo of survivors toward an uncertain future, Jake made a silent vow. He would be better. Stronger. More prepared for the trials ahead.
The farm was gone, but they were alive. In a world where survival was victory enough, sometimes that was all you could ask for.
Behind them, the flames continued to burn, consuming the last remnants of safety and innocence they'd managed to preserve. Ahead lay only darkness and the promise of harder choices yet to come.
But they would face those challenges together, as family, and sometimes that was enough to make the impossible seem merely difficult.
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