Chapter 5: First Contact
Scott tracks Glenn's supply route pattern for three days, learning his rhythm and danger points through System observation.
The young Asian man moves like water through the urban wasteland, fluid and purposeful in a way that makes Scott's chest tight with recognition. From his perch on a fire escape two blocks away, Scott watches Glenn slip between abandoned cars with the kind of grace that only comes from weeks of practice dodging death.
"Glenn Rhee. Pizza delivery boy turned master scavenger. Dies because Negan wants to make a point about authority."
The System's minimap tracks Glenn's progress with clinical precision, marking his position as a blue dot moving steadily toward the pharmacy district. Scott has been shadowing him for three days now, learning his patterns, his routes, his methods. Glenn favors speed over stealth, relies on agility over equipment, and has an almost supernatural sense for walker movements.
He's also methodical in a way the TV show never really captured. Glenn checks corners twice, tests doors before opening them, and leaves himself multiple escape routes from every building he enters. The kid is good—better than good. He's a natural survivor.
Which makes what Scott's about to do feel even more like interference with perfection.
His System chimes softly as Glenn approaches Hutchinson's Pharmacy, a mid-sized building with boarded windows and a rear entrance that's partially concealed by overgrown bushes.
[ALERT: WALKER NEST DETECTED]
[HOSTILE COUNT: 12]
[THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME]
[RECOMMENDED ACTION: AVOID]
Scott's blood turns to ice water. The pharmacy looks safe from the outside—no broken windows, no obvious signs of infestation. But his System's Analyze function penetrates the building's exterior, revealing the cluster of red dots lurking in the basement storage area.
"Glenn doesn't know. Can't know. His enhanced hearing might pick up some shuffling, but not enough to realize what's waiting down there."
Glenn pauses at the pharmacy's front entrance, head tilted as he listens for threats. For a moment, Scott thinks the young man's survival instincts will save him. But then Glenn shakes his head and moves toward the rear entrance, apparently deciding the building is safe.
Scott watches him disappear inside and makes his choice.
He drops from the fire escape, using his enhanced agility to absorb the impact, and sprints across the empty street. His System highlights the optimal approach route—through the adjacent alley, over a low fence, around to the pharmacy's loading dock.
The sound of splintering wood carries through the morning air just as Scott reaches the rear entrance. Glenn's voice, tight with alarm: "Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh—"
The unmistakable moan of walkers follows, a sound like wind through a graveyard.
Scott doesn't hesitate. He crashes through the rear door of the pharmacy, his crowbar already in hand, and follows the sound of combat down a narrow staircase into the basement.
The scene that greets him is chaos.
Glenn stands on top of a storage rack in the center of the room, surrounded by walkers that pour from the shadows like a tide of decay. He's got a machete in one hand and a backpack in the other, but the storage rack is swaying dangerously under his weight and the impact of reaching hands.
Twelve walkers, just like the System predicted. Men, women, children—all wearing the tattered remnants of clothing that suggests they took shelter here when the outbreak began. Now they reach for Glenn with mindless hunger, their moans echoing off the concrete walls.
"Get out of here!" Glenn shouts when he sees Scott. "There's too many!"
Scott activates Power Strike and throws himself into the horde.
[POWER STRIKE ACTIVATED]
[STAMINA: 75/100]
[DAMAGE BONUS: +50%]
The crowbar takes the nearest walker in the skull with enough force to drop it instantly. Scott spins, using his enhanced perception to track multiple targets, and catches another in the temple. The System highlights weak points on every target—joint vulnerabilities, skull fractures, optimal strike zones.
"Behind you!" Glenn warns.
Scott ducks under grasping arms and brings the crowbar up in a vicious uppercut that punches through the third walker's jaw and into its brain. Dark fluid spatters his face, but he's already moving, already striking, the System guiding his movements with surgical precision.
[WALKER ELIMINATED]
[WALKER ELIMINATED]
[WALKER ELIMINATED]
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: 150 XP]
"Jump!" Scott shouts to Glenn. "Now!"
Glenn leaps from the storage rack, landing heavily beside Scott just as more walkers press in from the shadows. They fight back-to-back, Glenn's machete working in short, efficient arcs while Scott's crowbar does brutal work on skulls and necks.
"He's good. Better than I expected. His timing is perfect, his blade work is clean. No wasted motion."
But there are too many of them, and more are emerging from deeper in the basement—attracted by the noise, the scent of blood, the promise of fresh meat.
"We need to go!" Glenn pants, blood from a walking corpse streaking his face. "They'll bring more!"
Scott agrees with a grunt, using Power Strike again to clear a path toward the staircase. They fight their way up step by step, Glenn covering their retreat while Scott smashes through any walker that gets too close.
They burst from the pharmacy into the late morning sunshine, both breathing hard, and don't stop running until they reach a fire escape three blocks away.
They climb to the roof in silence, both checking for pursuit, both processing what just happened. Only when they're certain they're safe does Glenn turn to study Scott with eyes that are sharp despite his exhaustion.
"How did you know I was in there?" Glenn asks.
Scott's prepared answer suddenly feels inadequate under that direct gaze. "I was scavenging nearby. Heard the noise."
Glenn's expression suggests he doesn't entirely buy that explanation. "Scavenging what? That building's been picked clean for a week."
"Shit. He knows the area better than I thought."
"Medical supplies," Scott improvises. "I'm an EMT. Always looking for medicine, bandages, that kind of thing."
"EMT?" Glenn's expression shifts to something more interested. "That's... actually really useful. I'm Glenn, by the way. Glenn Rhee."
"Scott. Scott Alen."
They shake hands formally, and Scott tries not to react to the surreal experience of meeting a character he watched die on television. Glenn has a firm grip and calluses on his palm from weapon use—details the show never captured.
"So, Scott the EMT," Glenn continues, "what were you really doing at that pharmacy? Because that timing was either incredibly lucky or..."
"Or what?"
Glenn shrugs, but his eyes stay sharp. "Or you were following me."
The directness of the accusation catches Scott off guard. He'd expected Glenn to be more trusting, more naive. Instead, the young man is studying him like a puzzle he's trying to solve.
"Why would I follow you?"
"Supply runner recognizes supply runner, maybe? You've got gear that looks fresh, you fight like you've had practice, and your story doesn't quite add up." Glenn tilts his head. "But you also just saved my life, so I'm inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt."
Scott decides honesty—carefully edited honesty—might be his best option.
"You're right. I was watching you. Not following, exactly, but... observing. You're good at this. Better than anyone I've seen since the world ended. I was curious how you do it."
Glenn blinks, apparently not expecting that level of candor. "Oh. That's... actually pretty flattering. And creepy. But mostly flattering."
"I'm not a threat," Scott continues. "I'm just trying to survive like everyone else. And I figured maybe I could learn something from watching how you operate."
"Learn something, huh?" Glenn grins suddenly, and Scott sees a flash of the humor that made him such a beloved character. "Well, lesson one: don't go into basements without checking for nests first."
"Noted."
Glenn studies him for another long moment, then seems to reach a decision. "You saved my life in there. That counts for something. And if you're really EMT trained..." He trails off, looking thoughtful.
"What?"
"My camp could use someone with medical training. We've got people who know basic first aid, but nothing professional."
Scott's heart pounds. This is it—the invitation he's been hoping for and dreading in equal measure. "You have a camp?"
"Group of survivors. We look out for each other, pool resources, that kind of thing." Glenn pauses. "They're good people, mostly. A little paranoid about newcomers, but given what happened to the world, can you blame them?"
"Shane will want to interrogate me. Lori will be polite but watchful. Carl will be curious. Dale will try to judge my character. And I'll have to pretend I don't know any of them."
"Sounds like a good setup," Scott says carefully.
"It is. We could use another hand, especially someone with skills." Glenn reaches into his backpack and pulls out a bottle of water, offering half to Scott. "What do you say? Want to meet them?"
Scott accepts the water, buying time to think. This is the moment—the point of no return. Once he meets the camp, he's committed to changing their story, to interfering with events he knows will lead to both tragedy and triumph.
"But I can't save them from a distance. And Glenn... God, Glenn deserves better than what happens to him."
"I'd like that," Scott says finally. "But maybe we should get to know each other a little better first? I mean, you're asking me to meet your people based on one fight."
Glenn nods approvingly. "Smart. Trust but verify, right?" He grins. "How about this—we do a few supply runs together first. See how we work as a team. If you're as good as you seem, and if you're not secretly a psychopath, maybe I introduce you to the group."
"Deal."
As they prepare to part ways, Scott reaches into his backpack—actually his System inventory, but Glenn can't see the blue shimmer—and pulls out a bottle of antibiotics.
"Here. For your camp. I found these earlier."
Glenn's eyes widen as he examines the medicine. "Holy shit, these are exactly what Dale needs for his cough. How did you—" He stops, studying Scott again. "You're either the luckiest scavenger in Atlanta, or..."
"Or what?"
Glenn laughs, but it sounds slightly forced. "Or you're a lot better at this than you let on."
Scott maintains eye contact, keeping his expression neutral. "Just good at looking in the right places, I guess."
"Right. Well, whatever your secret is, I hope you're willing to share it." Glenn pockets the antibiotics. "Same time tomorrow? There's a medical complex on the west side that might have more supplies."
"I'll be here."
Scott watches Glenn disappear toward the quarry camp, his System tracking the direction and updating his map with a new waypoint.
[QUEST BRANCHING COMPLETED]
[FIND SANCTUARY: JOIN SURVIVOR GROUP SELECTED]
[NEW QUEST: EARN TRUST]
[OBJECTIVE: COMPLETE SUPPLY RUNS WITH GLENN (0/5)]
[REWARD: INTRODUCTION TO SURVIVOR CAMP]
[RELATIONSHIP TRACKER UNLOCKED]
[GLENN RHEE: TRUST 25/100 - "CURIOUS STRANGER"]
Scott stares at the interface for a long moment, then at his hands. They're steady despite everything, despite meeting a character he watched die, despite taking the first step into a story he knows by heart.
"I've crossed the threshold now. Stepped into the story I once watched. And there's no going back."
He makes his way back to his safe house as the sun reaches its zenith, Atlanta's corpse shimmering in the heat. Tomorrow he'll run supplies with Glenn Rhee. Soon he'll meet Shane and Lori and Carl and Dale and all the others.
The real question, he thinks as he climbs the fire escape to his sanctuary, is whether he can save them without them discovering what he truly is.
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