Chapter 11: No One Sleeps Tonight
Hershel rubbed his brow, exhaustion weighing down his voice.
"Thank you for coming, Kenny. But for now… we've done all we can."
"All that's left is in God's hands—and in Shawn's will to fight. Everyone's tired. Get some rest."
His gaze swept over Hanks, Lee, and Clementine. There was gratitude there, but also strain—
the pressure of strangers in his home and the agony of seeing his son on the brink.
"Officer Hanks, Lee, and the little one… you can rest in the barn. It's simple, but clean and safe enough."
Maggie immediately spoke up, a bit harsh—almost as if trying to put as much distance between Hanks and her family as possible:
"Right. The barn. Beth—come on, we're going upstairs!"
She practically dragged Beth away, the younger girl looking back multiple times, confused and a little hurt, before being pulled up the stairs.
Hanks didn't argue with the arrangement. He nodded once.
But before leaving, he stepped toward Shawn's bed.
The young man's face was twisted with fever, breath quick and strained—even unconscious, he was in agony. Hanks' brow tightened.
"Hershel," he said quietly—yet the tone carried a weight of undeniable warning, "this infection isn't normal. Hope for the best… but prepare for the worst."
Then—under the stunned eyes of Hershel, Kenny, and their families—Hanks reached behind his belt and removed a pair of stainless steel handcuffs.
In the dim glow of the kerosene lamp, the metal reflected a cold, merciless light.
Click.
The sharp bite of metal closing around a wrist cut through the silence.
Hanks secured Shawn's wrist to the heavy iron bedframe with practiced efficiency. He placed the key on the nightstand—within reach, but not too close.
"This is for everyone's safety—including his," Hanks said evenly.
"If Shawn… turns, this buys us precious seconds."
Hershel's lips trembled. Hurt, anger, humiliation, and grief warred in his eyes.
To see his own son restrained like a criminal—it tore at him.
Yet a part of him knew… the officer was right.
He didn't respond—just sagged into the chair beside the bed, shoulders sinking, as if he had aged another ten years in a single moment.
Just days ago, life had still been recognizable.
Now everything had spiraled into a nightmare.
Shawn—his only son.
Kenny stared at the cuffs, his beard twitching. His expression darkened.
He understood all too well. After a few days out in the new world, he knew what this meant.
He didn't speak. He simply placed a heavy hand on Hershel's shoulder, then quietly led his family away.
Hanks said nothing more, gesturing for Lee and Clementine to follow him.
The three stepped out of the oppressive farmhouse atmosphere and walked toward the barn—its dark red silhouette bathed in moonlight.
Inside, hay was stacked high, carrying the scent of dust and straw.
Otis had thoughtfully laid out a few rough blankets for them.
Still—none of them felt the slightest trace of sleep.
Lee sat with his back against a hay bale, staring at his injured leg… and at the Glock resting beside him.
His eyes were distant—lost.
He had gone from a prisoner in handcuffs…
to a man holding a weapon, fighting to survive the end of the world.
The drastic shift in identity left Lee lost, unsure who he was anymore.
Hanks' earlier words echoed relentlessly in his head:
"Any law that protects monsters isn't justice worth abiding."
It shook him. Conflicted him. Challenged everything he once believed.
Clementine curled up on a blanket, clutching her walkie-talkie tightly against her chest.
"Brother Hanks…" she whispered, "will Shawn be okay? Are we really safe now?"
Hanks sat beside her, calmly stripping down his P226 for cleaning, each movement precise and steady.
"I did everything I could."
He didn't answer the question directly. Instead:
"I'll protect you. Until we find your parents."
His calm was strangely contagious.
Clementine eased a little, though her eyes stayed wide open, staring at the dark rafters of the barn ceiling.
She wanted to ask again about Shawn, but… she swallowed it.
Hanks finished reassembling the pistol, mind finally settling enough to call up the system panel.
Today had been nothing but running, killing, and searching. Now—he could finally think.
---
Meanwhile, upstairs in the farmhouse—
"Okay, what is going on with you?"
Beth finally couldn't hold back anymore. She kept her voice low as she helped Maggie make the bed.
"You were so rude to Officer Hanks! He risked his life to get us those meds!"
Maggie's hands froze. Her back stiffened.
She drew a slow breath and turned around, conflict twisting across her face.
"Beth… listen to me. Stay away from him. He is not the heroic cop you think he is."
"Why? Because he said the law is falling apart? But he might be right!" Beth argued.
Her mind still lingered on Hanks' calm blue eyes and steady, protective presence.
"It's more than that!" Maggie snapped—then forced herself to lower her voice.
She couldn't bring herself to describe the execution—the cold gunshot, the boy's eyes.
It would shatter Beth's innocence in ways she wasn't ready to.
"Just… trust me. He's dangerous. Very dangerous. To survive, he'll do anything. Don't get close to him. And never be alone with him."
Beth stared at Maggie—at the fear in her eyes, so unlike the Maggie she knew.
Questions swirled in her mind, but she nodded softly.
"…Okay, sis. I'll listen."
But deep inside, the image of a strong protector who faced death without hesitation… hadn't faded.
If anything, curiosity burned even brighter.
---
Night deepened.
The farm fell into a tense stillness; only the wind whispered across the roof.
Inside the barn, Lee finally broke the silence.
"Hanks… thank you. For today."
Hanks only gave a quiet "Mm."
After a long pause, Lee spoke again, voice fragile:
"What… do we do now?"
Hanks, having finally familiarized himself with the system interface, stared out toward the pitch-black night outside the barn doors.
"Survive," he said. "And take her to Savannah."
It was his mission.
And right now, the only thing he could cling to.
Living without a goal was no different than being dead.
Walkers were still "alive," in a sense—just bodies that moved.
But without purpose, they became nothing but flesh, dragging itself forward.
"And… after that?"
Lee asked quietly—partly to Hanks, partly to himself.
He thought he would spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Now he had freedom—too much of it. He had no idea what to do with it.
"After that…"
Hanks fell silent.
"We'll figure it out then."
No one slept that night.
Each person lay awake with their own fears and thoughts, drifting through the darkness of the farm.
Dawn would soon come…
but no one knew if it would bring hope—
or a deeper despair.