Chapter 14: Beth… You Smell Really Good
Upstairs, Maggie had long since fallen into a deep sleep from mental exhaustion—her breathing heavy and uneven.
Beth, however, tossed and turned beneath the blanket, staring at the dark window and the silent, dangerous night outside.
Images flashed through her mind—the sight of her brother burning with fever, her sister's stern warning before bed, the terrifying events of the day…
and that face—calm to the point of coldness.
It all swirled inside her head, keeping her wide awake.
She slipped quietly from bed and walked to the window, hoping the cool night air would help steady her heartbeat.
That was when she saw him.
Moonlight poured across the farm like silver liquid, outlining his figure with striking clarity.
Beth caught sight of the person who had occupied her thoughts all night…
…leaping around like a monkey?
No—no, no!
In her eyes, he was more like a panther—swift and silent in the night.
She watched him effortlessly vault onto the high barn roof, crouch along the edge with sharp vigilance, then drop down with a graceful roll.
So focused. So powerful.
Her heart began to race.
"He's… amazing…" Beth whispered, cheeks growing warm.
Then she saw him pull out a can and devour it like a starving wolf—comically different from the lethal force he had been moments ago.
But instead of ruining the image, that contrast only made him seem… human. Vulnerable, even.
"He must not have eaten enough… He fought all day and now he's keeping watch too…"
Beth's chest softened.
A mix of sympathy, admiration, and a young girl's budding affection pushed away her sister's warning instantly.
She slipped out of bed, cast one glance at Maggie sleeping, and tiptoed out like a cat.
Beth knew the pantry by heart.
She filled a small basket with several wax-paper-wrapped slices of smoked ham, two apples, and a few cans of high-quality luncheon meat.
Taking a breath, she stepped outside. Cool air brushed her skin.
Clutching the basket, she walked toward the barn where he sat under the moonlight.
Hanks was still recovering from the extreme drain of his attribute upgrades—every cell screaming for food.
"Uh… hi. Do you—need help? You looked really hungry…"
He snapped his head up, eyes sharp like an eagle's in the moonlight. His right hand moved instinctively toward his holster.
Beth Greene.
She stopped a few steps away, holding a small covered basket. The night breeze lifted her skirt slightly, golden hair swaying around her shoulders.
With his heightened Perception and Hyper Sense, the world flooded him with information at once.
He didn't just see her—he smelled her:
A clean, gentle scent—soap, a hint of floral youthfulness…
But most of all—
from the basket she carried—
the heavenly aroma of meat. Smoked ham. Salted, savory, intoxicating.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes instinctively locking onto the basket.
Without thinking, he blurted out:
"Beth… you smell amazing!"
Beth's face exploded crimson. Her heart nearly stopped. The basket shook in her hands.
Especially with the way his blue eyes seemed to gleam—almost predatory—she staggered back two steps in alarm.
"No! Please!"
"Officer—I'm only seventeen!"
Hanks froze—then realized the misunderstanding. Fast.
"No—! I meant the ham! The ham smells amazing!"
His voice cracked with desperate hunger, like a starving wolf begging for food.
Beth blinked—then burst into a soft, uncontrollable laugh.
He wasn't flirting.
He was genuinely, utterly starving.
A warm mixture of amusement and affection washed over her. She stepped closer and held out the basket, lifting the cloth cover.
"They're all for you. Go ahead—eat."
Hanks didn't bother with manners. He forgot to even say thank you—just grabbed the largest piece of ham and tore into it.
Rich meat and savory fat melted on his tongue.
Iron Stomach kicked into overdrive, devouring the nutrients like a furnace.
Beth crouched beside him, hugging her knees, quietly watching him eat under the silver moonlight.
The scene was strangely peaceful—
a hardened warrior receiving soft kindness from a gentle girl.
"Slow down—drink some water."
She offered a flask.
Hanks gulped half of it in seconds, exhaling in relief as the panic of starvation faded.
"Thank you, Beth," he said, voice steadying, life returning to his limbs.
Beth's cheeks warmed with a shy smile. "I'm glad I could help."
She hesitated, then spoke softly:
"My sister… she was really on edge today. Don't take what she said too personally…"
Hanks met her clear blue eyes and understood.
"It's fine. I have my flaws too."
He shook his head slightly—he didn't want to linger on that topic.
Beth smiled gently and—ever considerate—switched to something lighter.
"Hanks… what did you do before all this happened?"
"Huh? Do I look like a guy who fixes air-conditioners?"
He pointed at his own face with a dead-serious expression.
Beth blinked—then burst into laughter again, her eyes curving into crescents.
"No! No, not at all!"
"I mean… before you became a police officer. You seem… different."
Her gaze trailed briefly across his toned arms and sharp blue eyes.
"Oh, that."
Hanks bit into an apple—its crisp sweetness making him breathe out in satisfaction.
Iron Stomach was working efficiently, converting every bite into fuel.
"I worked a desk job. Data, planning, spreadsheets… basically staring at a screen all day."
He shrugged.
"You could say I was… a pre-installed NPC version of a programmer. Combat power: zero."
"Really? I never would've guessed!"
Beth's eyes widened with genuine surprise, sparkling with curiosity.
Beth hesitated before asking, "Then how did you… become like this?"
She wanted to say so skilled, but the words felt too direct.
Hanks swallowed the last bite of apple and gave a wry, complicated smile.
"Let's just say… life forced me to adapt."
He shrugged lightly. "Or maybe God got bored of watching me type behind a desk and threw me into some… uh… 'Seven Days to Die DLC.'"
The reference flew over her head, but she understood the helpless humor beneath it.
Beth hugged her knees, resting her chin on top, studying him with quiet curiosity
"So… do you prefer how life was before, or how it is now?"
Hanks paused.
He looked at his strengthened hands, then at the dark, quiet horizon of the farm, and finally at the earnest, concerned blue eyes waiting for an answer.
"Before… I was safe. But life was as bland as a glass of plain water."
He searched for the right words.
"Now… it's way too exciting. Any second could be my last."
His voice dipped, thoughtful.
"But at least now, I feel alive. I'm… searching for a reason to keep living."
Yes—what then?
After he took Clementine to Savannah… where would he go? Who would he become?
Beth's cheeks warmed just a little. She sensed there was something unspoken behind his eyes, but didn't press.
Silence settled between them, soft and comfortable this time. Only the night breeze rustling through the grass filled the space.
After a moment, Hanks rose, stretching. The renewed strength flowing through his limbs reassured him.
"It's late, Beth," he said, voice gentler than before.
"You should rest. We don't know what tomorrow will bring."
Beth stood as well, reluctant but obedient. "Alright… you too. Don't push yourself."
She pointed at the empty basket and flask. "I'll pick those up in the morning."
"Okay." Hanks nodded, watching her walk back toward the farmhouse, slender silhouette bathed in moonlight.
At the door, Beth stopped, gathered her courage, and turned back.
"Hanks… thank you. For everything today."
She hesitated, then added softly, with sincerity rather than flirtation:
"And… don't rush through life too fast. Give it time. People grow. Things change."
Then, flustered by her own honesty, she quickly slipped inside and gently closed the door behind her.
Hanks stared at the door a moment, her last words dropping into his thoughts like a pebble into still water—sending faint ripples across the surface.
"…Did she misunderstand something?"
He let out a breath and chuckled quietly.
In a world where tomorrow wasn't promised, romantic misunderstandings were the last thing on his priority list.
Still—Beth's food, her kindness, her simple human warmth—cut through the bleakness of the apocalypse like a small, glowing lantern.
Clumsy, but sincere.
And in this world, sincerity was rare enough to be precious.
Hanks returned to the barn and sat near Clementine on the hay.
Back against the rough wooden wall, he closed his eyes—not to sleep fully, but to rest in a guarded half-doze.
For the first time since the outbreak…
The night passed quietly.