Chapter 7: Hershel
Hanks's head snapped up. He saw an old man with graying hair and a stern face leveling a shotgun at them.
Beside him stood a middle-aged man with a rifle, sporting the classic American paunch. He looked equally tense.
Hershel's gaze instantly locked onto Shawn on Hanks's back. The old man's pupils contracted sharply, his wariness replaced by shock.
"Shawn?!" His voice cracked. The shotgun muzzle lowered unconsciously.
"Mr. Hershel?!" Hanks immediately seized the opportunity, shouting in the fastest, clearest voice he could manage:
"I'm a Georgia State Police officer. Your son Shawn is injured—he needs immediate treatment!"
"Get in here! Otis, help!" Hershel hesitated no longer, shoving the fence gate open.
Otis remained cautious but immediately stepped forward, taking the unconscious Shawn.
"Dad? What's happening?"
Two young women ran from the farmhouse. They froze at the scene.
"Maggie! Get the operating room ready! Bring the sterilized instruments and suture kit! Now!"
Hershel barked orders, fully transformed into a professional physician. "Otis, carry Shawn inside! Watch his arm!"
He quickly glanced at the blood-covered and bedraggled Hanks and Lee, plus the trembling Clementine, and added:
"Beth, prepare hot water, clean towels, and food. We have guests who need tending."
"Thank you, sir!" Hanks finally exhaled. His taut nerves relaxed slightly. Intense exhaustion hit him all at once.
He handed Shawn to Otis while supporting Lee, who could barely stand.
"Hang in there, Lee. We're safe." He said it to Lee, but seemed to be telling himself too.
Clementine hugged Hanks's leg tightly, her small face still etched with fear.
But seeing the adults busily working to save someone, she felt slightly reassured.
Inside the farmhouse, lights blazed, contrasting sharply with the heavy darkness outside the windows.
The air was thick with disinfectant, blood, and tense anxiety.
Hershel and Otis worked together to lay Shawn flat on a bed with clean sheets.
Maggie had already brought the first aid kit, hot water, and towels, setting them gently beside her father.
Hershel's practiced hands cut away Shawn's sleeve, revealing the horrific scratches.
The skin around the wound had taken on a grayish-blue swelling. The edges were beginning to rot.
The old veterinarian's eyes dimmed instantly. His hand holding the scissors trembled slightly.
He'd practiced medicine for years, seen all kinds of wounds, but this rapid necrosis accompanied by unnatural discoloration—
He'd never seen anything like it!
"Dad?" Maggie's heart clenched. She called out worriedly, seeing her father's face go pale.
Hershel took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the storm in his heart. Medical instinct took over.
"Maggie, hold your brother down!"
"Otis, light!"
He picked up sterilized forceps and suture needle, working with full concentration to clean and close the wound. His movements were swift and steady, but the shadow between his brows wouldn't lift.
On the other side, Beth busied herself caring for the three. She brought hot water and clean towels.
"Thank you, miss."
Hanks accepted the towel and wiped the blood and sweat from his face, revealing strong, determined mixed-race features.
Combined with the battle-damaged black police uniform, Beth found herself staring without meaning to.
He noticed Beth's gaze. "I'm Officer Hanks Adolf. This is Lee, and this is Clementine. Thank you and your family for the help!"
The handsome face plus his Police Authority talent created a strange feeling in Beth's chest.
"I'm Beth Greene." She said softly, bringing some simple food and water.
"You must be starving. Eat something first. Your friend needs that wound treated." She looked at Lee's still-bleeding calf.
After thanking her, Hanks immediately crouched down to examine Lee's injury. The wound had worsened from their earlier flight and exertion.
He used knowledge from his police academy training to clean, disinfect, and rebandage Lee's wound.
Medical Skill Experience +10
Clementine nibbled on cookies Beth gave her while staying close to Hanks.
She watched the busy scene in the other room anxiously, occasionally glancing toward the pitch-black night outside the windows.
"They'll make Shawn better, won't they?" she asked Hanks quietly.
Hanks patted her head. "Hershel is the best vet—uh, doctor. He'll do everything he can."
But he knew in his heart that Shawn's condition probably couldn't be solved with medicine...
After a long while, Hershel finally straightened up, wiping sweat from his forehead. His face was exhausted and heavy.
He walked to Hanks, his voice hoarse. "The wound is treated. Bleeding stopped."
"But his temperature keeps rising. I need medication and high-dose antibiotics!"
Hershel's words made the farmhouse atmosphere tense again. Normally common medications would be hard to obtain under current conditions.
"Where's the nearest pharmacy?" Hanks didn't hesitate for a second.
His voice was steady, always carrying a reassuring strength.
Hershel looked at him with complex emotions. "A few kilometers east, there's a small town. The town has a Middleton Pharmacy."
"Make me a list of what you need." Hanks's tone left no room for argument, as if this were just another routine patrol. "I'll go get it."
The words were like a thunderclap. Everyone stared at him in shock.
"Officer, are you crazy?" Lee blurted out. "Those things are everywhere outside! There'll be even more in town!"
"You, alone? Too dangerous!"
Beth couldn't help speaking up. Maggie nodded in agreement while shooting Beth a curious look.
Hanks didn't respond. He pulled out the Glock magazines he'd scavenged earlier.
He efficiently ejected the 9mm rounds, then pressed them one by one into his P226's empty magazines.
Handgun Skill Experience +200
Handgun Skill Level Up
Handgun Skill Level 20: 100/20000
Handgun Skill Passive Unlocked: American Quick-Draw
(Evolution of Quick Draw. When encountering sudden threats at extreme close range, no precise aiming needed—fire while drawing, three accurate shots in 1 second)
Clementine couldn't help rushing forward to hug his leg. "Hanks, don't go!"
Hanks gently patted Clementine's head, his gaze fixed on Hershel with determination.
"Shawn got hurt because of us. No matter how dangerous, I'm making this trip."
He slid the loaded magazines into his tactical belt pouches with crisp, efficient movements.
Hershel looked into those determined eyes, knowing this was their only option. "Please, be careful..."
His voice carried a barely detectable tremor—both hope and deep guilt.
Without another word, he quickly walked to the table, tore off a sheet of paper, and began writing by kerosene lamplight.