"Quick, tie it up!" Rick barked, sweat already forming on his forehead.
Even with the walker restrained, fighting it at close range kept their nerves stretched tight. One slip and its flailing limbs could tear into their skin.
Jimmy fumbled as he tied its legs with rope, while Otis efficiently reinforced the bindings around its neck and arms.
They heaved the first walker into the pickup bed and secured it behind the modified railing.
The dull thuds of it slamming against the bars echoed in the truck. For a moment, all three fell silent.
Otis wiped his sweat and sighed. "I hope Hershel is right. Every time we do this, it just doesn't sit right with me."
He looked at the thing in the truck bed, something that might once have been a neighbor or a friend, his expression complicated.
Jimmy spoke quietly, "Yeah… but they don't look like something that can be cured."
Rick said nothing.
He simply watched the walker, the unease in his chest growing heavier.
Would this compromise really bring peace, or was it just building toward something worse?
He forced the thought aside and pointed ahead. "There's another one over there. Let's keep going."
They repeated the process and managed to capture two more walkers, one an elderly woman, the other a young man who looked like a farmhand.
By afternoon, the pickup returned.
Otis, Jimmy, and Rick brought back three walkers. Each had a noose around its neck, being driven forward with poles from behind, snarling as they were forced toward the barn.
Dale was holding a gun bag, having collected everyone's weapons to hide them away, including those belonging to Calista's group.
Everyone on the farm had come out to watch, each with their own thoughts.
Hershel stood on the porch, watching with a faint smile, with Maggie and Beth beside him.
Just as the walkers were brought to the barn door and Otis and Jimmy prepared to open the side gate to drive them inside, something unexpected happened.
Or rather, something deliberate.
Shane had somehow moved close without anyone noticing.
As one walker passed by him, he brushed past Otis at high speed, seemingly by accident, and slammed his shoulder into Otis's elbow.
Otis cried out in pain, his grip loosening. The rope binding the walker slipped free.
"Watch out!" Jimmy shouted.
But the walker, starved and restrained for so long, exploded with strength the moment it gained even partial freedom.
It tore loose from the remaining restraints with a shrill snarl and lunged straight toward the nearest person.
Patricia, who had been watching nervously nearby.
"Ah!" Patricia froze in terror.
A gunshot rang out.
Shane.
The first shot hit the walker in the chest, but it didn't slow down.
Another shot followed immediately.
This time, Shane closed in and fired at point-blank range into its head. Rotting flesh and brain matter splattered across Patricia.
The walker collapsed.
The echo of the gunshot lingered over the open farm.
Everyone stared at the body, just moments ago still moving, now completely still. Then they looked at Shane, who lowered his gun without expression.
Finally, their eyes shifted to the barn door.
Shane scanned the crowd before fixing his gaze on Hershel, whose face had gone rigid, and Rick, whose expression was conflicted.
"Did you see that?" His voice was cold. "That's the 'patient' you've been protecting. What kind of sickness lets something keep moving after a shot to the heart? That's a monster. And all it wants is to eat us."
His eyes swept across the group, catching the shock, the fear, and the silent agreement on some faces.
He didn't hesitate anymore. What was needed now was action. He had to shatter Hershel's illusion completely.
At that moment, he spotted Dale carrying the gun bag, clearly trying to hide the weapons to keep things from escalating.
"Dale!"
Shane strode over and snatched the heavy bag before Dale could react.
"Shane, you can't do this!" Dale tried to stop him, but it was too late.
Shane unzipped the bag and started handing out weapons like he was passing out supplies, placing them into the hands of those he trusted or at least those who would not oppose him.
"T-Dog, take it!"
"Daryl!"
Daryl took the gun without hesitation and checked it. "Should've done this a long time ago."
He might stay on the edge of the group, but when it came to dealing with threats, he stood firmly with Shane.
"Andrea, Jacqui! I've trained you. Time to put it to use."
Both women took their guns. Andrea's expression was firm. Jacqui hesitated for a moment but still gripped hers tightly.
"Glenn! Protect the person you care about."
After giving Maggie a pointed look, Glenn picked up his weapon.
Shane then grabbed a smaller handgun and walked toward Carl.
"Carl, you need to learn to protect yourself. Protect your mom."
"No!"
Lori rushed forward and pulled Carl behind her, her eyes filled with anger and fierce protectiveness.
"He's not taking a gun. He's still a child!"
She stared at Shane, unwavering.
Shane met her gaze, saw her refusal, and let out a cold scoff before dropping the matter.
Once all the guns had been handed out, Shane's eyes shifted to Calista and the other two in the corner.
Calista's heart sank.
This is bad.
She kept her face blank, hoping he would ignore them as outsiders.
But Shane clearly had other ideas.
Calista, as the leader of the three newcomers, was young yet capable enough to keep someone like Merle in line. That alone told him they were not ordinary survivors.
More help was always better. And this was also a way to test and draw them in.
Without hesitation, he pulled out one of the rifles they had previously turned in and walked over, pressing it into Calista's hands.
"Take it. Help out."
Calista: …
Seriously?
She complained inwardly. The rifle felt like it was burning in her hands.
If she accepted it, she would be siding with Shane and completely offending Hershel. Staying on the farm would become difficult.
If she refused, Shane would see it as siding with Hershel or Rick, and she would still be dragged into this mess.
In that split second, she chose the only option left.
She took the rifle calmly but didn't raise it. Instead, she glanced at it and said evenly,
"There's no ammo."
Earlier in the woods, they had nearly used up all their bullets. The rifle she handed in had been empty.
A small advantage, at least.