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Next update? Fuck this cultivation world!
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Chapter 16
Night had settled over the camp like a heavy blanket, thick and suffocating.
A dying fire crackled at the center, its orange glow casting long shadows across the worn tents and rusting vehicles that made up the temporary sanctuary.
Tomorrow, Hound, Doc, and Hawk would be leaving, taking with them those brave or desperate enough to follow.
For now, though, the camp was still. Some sat quietly near the fire, watching embers drift into the dark. Others had already turned in, seeking what little rest they could find.
The air was filled with a low murmur of voices still debating, the sound of bugs, and the faint rustle of trees in the wind.
Rick Grimes sat a short distance from the flames, facing Shane. The two men had been talking, arguing, really, for hours now.
"Shane," Rick said, rubbing his face, his jaw tight, "you can't keep pretending this place is safe."
Shane shook his head, eyes narrowed.
"And heading off with a bunch of masked men is? That's suicide."
"Just fucking trust me on this!" Rick snapped back. "They know what they're doin—!"
"Enough! Both of you!" Lori's voice cut through the tension like a whip crack.
Rick and Shane turned at once, startled by the sudden interruption. Lori stood just beyond the firelight, arms folded tight across her chest.
Her expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and frustration, having come from tucking her son into bed.
"You've been at each other's throats for days," she said, stepping closer, her voice low but sharp. "I'm sick of it! Everyone is."
Shane's jaw clenched. "Lori, don't—"
"No, you don't," she snapped, not letting him finish. "This isn't helping anyone. We're trying to figure out how to survive, and all you two do is argue like this is some pissing contest!"
Rick looked like he wanted to say something, but held back. Shane, on the other hand, wasn't done.
"So what, you're taking his side now?" Shane asked, voice biting, eyes locked on hers like a challenge.
But Lori didn't flinch; she met his gaze squarely,
"I'm not picking sides, Shane… I'm trusting my husband." She walked towards her husband and sat by his side, and took his hands into hers.
Shane looked as if he had just been slapped and spat on.
"And come tomorrow," Lori continued, her tone final, "I'm going with him."
For a long beat, no one said anything.
Shane just stood there, staring at her, his face hard to read, filled with a mix of shock, disbelief, maybe even betrayal flickering behind his eyes.
Lori didn't look away.
Shane's mouth opened, but no words came.
He looked from Lori to Rick, then back again, jaw tightening as something unreadable twisted in his eyes.
They sat in silence, completely unaware of the chaos that was about to happen…
In one of the darker corners of the camp, far from the rest of the group, Ed Peletier groaned and rolled over in his tent.
The painkillers were wearing off as his jaw throbbed with a deep, pulsing ache that clawed through his skull like fire.
His mouth was a torn mess behind the bandages, every breath tasting of blood and regret.
He angrily tossed aside the pillow he was lying on, the memorie of getting punched by that damn bastard still haunting him.
It might not be today, hell! It might not be anytime soon, but one day, he would make that masked freak pay!
The sound of rustling came from outside his tent, and a shadow of a figure flickered; he assumed it was his wife making the noise.
He spat something thick into the tent floor, then growled low in his throat.
"Carol get me my goddamn meds," he slurred, barely able to speak through the swelling and gauze. When no answer came, his groan turned into a snarl. "Carol!"
Still nothing, but the rustling came again.
He heard it now, soft crunching footsteps, dragging across dead leaves. The flap of his tent shifted, and Ed squinted blearily toward it as he angrily got up.
"You deaf or somethin'? You worthless bitch! I said get me the—!"
The flap opened, and his face was inches away from a disgusting corpse.
The thing that greeted him was human, but only barely. Its skin was missing, ripped clean off in long sheets, exposing raw, rotting muscle and wet, twitching tendons.
Its face was nothing but exposed muscle tissue, a grotesque, ugly skull with hollow sockets and strands of hair still clinging to its scalp like seaweed on a corpse.
It growled, a wet and guttural sound that rattled like boiling tar.
Ed stopped breathing, and his heart stopped beating as his life flashed before his eyes.
For a moment, neither moved as they stared each other down.
One was consumed with fear, and the other was unable to show emotion on his skinless face.
"RHHOOAAAHHHHHHH!!!"
Then the walker lunged with a terrifying speed, letting out an inhuman roar.
Ed's ear-piercing scream shattered the quiet night.
He stumbled back, falling over himself as clawed hands tore into the tent, painfully grabbing hold of his legs and pulling him out.
The fabric ripped like paper as his body was dragged into the dirt, his fingernails clawing at the ground as he thrashed and kicked.
"HELP! HELP ME! GET IT OFF ME! HEEELLLLPPPP!!!" He desperately screamed out, especially when the walker finally let go and slammed its foot onto his chest.
The walker didn't bite; instead, it seemed to relish the moment, as it pressed down on his chest, its weight unbearable, its soulless eyes glaring down at him.
Ed screamed until his throat hurt.
Blood dripped from what was left of its jaw as it opened its mouth and unleashed another guttural snarl, hot and putrid against Ed's face.
He screamed until his very soul started to scream with him.
The smell of piss coming from Ed was strong, but not as strong as the smell of shit.
The creature finally struck, its bony hands sinking straight through his flesh and into his abdomen with a wet crunch that sent blood spraying across the dirt.
"NOOO—!"
The scream choked off into a strangled gargle as the walker slowly tore into him, ripping open his stomach with jerking, animalistic force.
His hands punched weakly against the creature's chest, but it did jack shit.
Flesh was torn, bones exposed, intestines ripped out, his screams breaking apart into sobs, gasps, gurgles, and then silence.
Guts and blood were spilled out on the dirt beside his body… his death was less than painless.
Nearby, the camp was in chaos due to Ed's screams and the inhuman roar.
Flashlights cut through the dark while people were screaming and shouting at what the fuck was going in.
Rick and Shane were already running toward where the screaming came from.
By the time they reached Ed's tent, it was too late.
They were met with a truly gruesome sight.
Ed was sprawled across the dirt, a hollowed-out mess of meat and blood. The walker stood over him, hands dripping with blood, as it glared down at the lifeless man.
Shane stumbled back in horror, gun pointed at the walker. "What the fuck—?!"
Rick's face twisted in shock before turning stone cold, before yelling as loud as he could to warn the others.
"WALKER!!!"
They both raised their weapons and fired.
The walker jerked with each shot, bullets punching into its chest and shoulders, blood sprayed, but it didn't fall.
It turned its head toward them slowly, almost mockingly, chunks of gore still hanging from its hands. Its eyes were empty sockets that somehow stared back at them with malice as it started walking towards them slowly.
"What the hell?!" Shane shouted, confused as fuck as to why the walker was still standing while unloading his entire clip.
Still, it came closer no matter how many bullets he shot into the bastard; it walked toward them, slow, but unstoppable.
Rick's heart pounded, just as confused as Shane, but he suddenly remembered Leo's words, nearly slapping himself as he did.
"Always the aim for the head."
He aimed higher this time, one clean shot.
BANG
The bullet tore through the walker's skull, and it finally dropped, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.
They lowered their weapons, breathing hard.
But there wasn't time to relax.
Screams erupted from the other side of the camp.
"Walkers—!"
"Help! Somebody help!!!"
"My baby!"
Then more of them emerged, staggering out from the tree line, from the dark corners between tents, from the shadows behind trees.
The camp was in chaos now.
Survivors screamed, stumbled, tripped over tents and tangled feet as the grotesque corpses poured in from the dark.
"RICK!!!" Lori's fear-filled scream rang out from behind them.
Hearing his wife cry for help, Rick immediately rushed to save her, his heart pounding against his chest as he ran with all his might.
He just got his family back god damn it!!!
"LORI!/LORI!" Rick and Shane yelled at the same time as they came to the sight of a walker crawling toward her and fellow survivors with a hungry snarl.
She was on the ground, desperately trying to crawl away, but failing as she kept screaming at the walker.
The others stood there shaking in fear, unable to do anything but watch.
The walker was inching closer and closer with each passing second, thrashing and growling at everything and everyone.
Rick immediately ran to her and pulled her up into his arms, pulling her to safety.
Shane aimed his gun at the walker's head and fired, killing it instantly.
"Are you alright!?! Were you bitten?!?!?" Rick frantically asked while checking her over, the fear and worry overwhelming him.
"N-No I'm fine! I-It didn't even touch me." She stuttered out, hurrying her face into his chest, crying.
Shane looked at the two of them, gun tight in his hand.
The sounds of panic and screaming didn't stop; they only grew louder, spreading across the camp like wildfire.
Rick held Lori tight for another moment, his hand cupping the back of her head, heart still slamming in his chest. But the chaos crashing around them didn't wait. It never did.
Another scream rang out from somewhere near the fire pit—this one was younger, higher. Someone else was in danger.
Rick's body tensed, his instincts kicking in like a damn war drum.
"Lori!" he snapped, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. "Go! Grab Carl and get to the car, lock yourselves in!"
Lori nodded shakily, but her hands were trembling.
Rick grabbed her wrist and shoved something cold and metallic into her palm.
She looked down at the handgun in her grasp like it was some cursed relic.
"I—Rick, I've never—"
"Just point and shoot the head if anything gets close. Do. Not. Hesitate," he said, voice harder than steel. "This isn't the time to be scared about shooting a gun."
Her eyes welled with tears, but she nodded, gripping the gun tightly.
"I'll protect him," she whispered.
"I know you will," Rick replied as he leaned in, kissed her forehead, then gently pushed her toward the cars.
"Go!"
Lori turned and ran.
Rick didn't wait to see if she made it.
He turned to Shane, who was already reloading with a grim expression, jaw clenched like he was chewing nails.
"You ready?" Rick asked.
Shane clicked the slide back on his pistol and gave him a silent nod.
Together, they ran to what was probably the most difficult fight of their lives.
______
The firelight painted the camp in a flickering hellscape, shadows dancing like demons as walkers stumbled through the torn tents and overturned supplies, chasing after the panicking survivors.
None the wiser to the three men watching from the top of the trees.
"…This is sad," Hound grumbled out as he watched a man trip over his own feet and somehow knock himself out while being chased by a Walker-Leo.
The Walker-Leo stared down at the man before looking around and simply started chasing after another camper.
Walker versions of themselves were always a pain in the ass to use.
It took too much focus and control to make sure the virus doesn't take over and cause an actual bloodshed to happen, not to mention the unbearable pain that would course through them due to their existence.
He scratched Coco under the chin, who was currently resting on his shoulders, enjoying a treat.
"We have a lot of work to do with this group when we get back."
Hawk agreed with a sigh as a woman started throwing random shit at an armless Walker-Leo despite there being a perfectly good kitchen knife right next to her.
They then watched as Andrea and her sister struggled against a single walker, who had grabbed hold of Amy's arm and simply screamed wildly at them, waiting for one of them to end its misery.
"LET GO OF HER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!"
"KILL IT!!! JUST FUCKING KILL IT!!!"
They were in a tug of war of sorts with Andrea and Amy trying to break free and run away instead of simply killing the damn walker.
Hawk and Hound perked up when the older sister finally pulled out her gun, but signed when the gun did nothing because the safety was still on, causing the sisters to panic even more.
"At least some of them are able to protect themselves."
They watched as an arrow belonging to Daryl pierced through that Walker-Leo's skull, severing the link between them.
Seven remaining, sadly enough.
Doc said nothing, his attention focused on a lone child frozen in place as the chaos happened around him, with no adult in sight running to take care of him.
"Alright, we got Ed, and we caused enough trauma, let's put a stop to this."
Hawk ordered while looking at his watch. He sighed when he noticed that barely five minutes had passed.
_________
The chaos tore through the camp like wildfire. Screams echoed through the woods, panicked footsteps crunching leaves as people scrambled for safety.
Hound dropped from a tree like a wraith, landing silently on both feet, Coco hopping off his shoulder.
He moved fast, faster than most could track in the dark, knife already in his hand as he charged toward the nearest walker.
He saw one lurch toward Carol, who was desperately trying to pull her daughter free from a tangled tent flap.
He whistled, causing Coco to bolt ahead and bite down on the walker's leg with a rumbling growl, causing the walker to fall face-first into the dirt.
With a swift arc, Hound stabbed the walker in the head, killing it in one blow. It dropped without a struggle, and the woman gasped in relief as she realized that she and her baby were safe.
An arrow pierced through the head of a walker who had cornered Morales and his family, making them turn and spot Hawk a distance away, reloading his crossbow.
Doc ran to the kid, picked him up in his arms, and stabbed his spear into a walker that was slowly making its way to him.
In the middle of it all, Rick and Shane were firing shot after shot, the darkness making it hard to see who was a walker and who was not.
One walker tried to grab Glenn, who was leading a mother and her child away to safety, but Hound's knife split its skull before it could even reach him.
Glenn turned, wide-eyed, looking at the tall figure who didn't say a word, just nodded, and kept going.
"Holy shit!" Glenn whispered under his breath. "T-Thanks!"
Walkers dropped dead to the forest floor as the men dealt with the walking corpses. The camp was filled with screams and fear, slowly returning back to what it once was.
The final walker, a ragged, legless thing crawling across the dirt with only one arm, let out a sickening wheeze as it reached for Andrea, who had fallen backward trying to reload her gun.
The woman scrambled to aim, her fingers tremblin—
The creature's head jerked violently as a crossbow bolt buried itself deep into its skull.
Hawk lowered his weapon, gave a subtle nod, then kneeled down to take back his arrow with the silent grace of someone far too used to this.
And just like that… it was over.
The screams died off, gunfire stopped, and the walkers were no longer a problem as everyone gathered around in their now ruined camp.
A heavy, hollow silence fell over them like a thick fog.
Faces pale, eyes wide, bodies trembling. Mothers clutched children, friends leaned on each other, and survivors gathered without speaking.
Rick stood near the fire pit, his gun still smoking, eyes scanning what remained of the camp, tents torn, blood smeared across the ground, rotting corpses littered all around them.
He slowly turned to Shane.
Shane didn't say a word as he angrily kicked a lifeless walker.
The look they shared was brief, but it spoke volumes.
Shane's shoulders dropped, his jaw unclenched.
The argument was over; he had nothing left to stand on, not after this.
All around them, people stared at the three masked men, who were already gathering the now-dead walkers into a pile.
They had moved like experienced soldiers, efficient and deadly. While others screamed and stumbled, they acted without hesitation.
Doc stood silently in the middle of it all, blood on his spear, his coat rustling faintly in the breeze. He gently handed the boy back to his parents as they gratefully thanked him with tears in their eyes.
Hound was crouched beside Coco, checking her paws and mouth like none of this had happened.
Hawk slung his crossbow over his shoulder and stepped past a group of staring survivors without saying a word.
None of them basked in the attention, they didn't even acknowledge it.
To them, it was just another job done.
Just another night.
Rick watched them, then stepped forward. He moved past people who were still catching their breath, past the blood, past the mess.
When he reached them, he simply said, "Thank you."
They just gave the faintest of nods.
That was all.
Rick glanced over his shoulder, back toward the survivors. Some were still crying, others were trying to fix the damage to their tents, while some were hugging their loved ones close.
The camp, once a place of fragile peace, now felt more like a war zone.
But they were alive.
And they had those three to thank for it.
"Holy shit! What did I miss?"
Everyone turned to where the question came from and found Merle coming out of his tent with a lazy yawn.
"What?" He asked, looking around in confusion.
_________
Morning came like a quiet apology.
The sun rose slowly over the trees, casting a pale light over the destroyed camp.
The smell of blood and ash still lingered in the air, and smoke drifted lazily from the dying remnants of the fire.
The bodies of the walkers had long since been burned in a controlled pyre near the edge of camp, Hawk and Hound had made sure of it.
Doc was bandaging cuts, checking wounds, and handing out medicine to those who needed it.
Now, the survivors moved through the aftermath in a daze, trying not to look too long at the bloodstains still soaking into the dirt.
Rick stood near the central fire pit, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set with the kind of tension that didn't go away with sleep.
Not that anyone had really slept.
Shane approached him from the side, rubbing the back of his head as he let out a tired breath.
"Headcount's done," Shane said gruffly, not looking at him at first. "Double-checked it with Morales and Jacqui."
Rick turned to him slowly, silently praying that the number wasn't too high. "And?"
Shane let out a long breath and said the last part quietly, like he couldn't quite believe it himself.
"Just one."
Rick blinked, wondering if he had heard wrong.
"One?"
Shane nodded as he took a deep breath.
"Only one… we lost Ed."
A long silence followed as Rick stared into the fire pit, then slowly turned to glance toward the far edge of camp where the man's wife and daughter stood over his dead body.
Carol was holding Sophia tightly against her side. The little girl had her arms around her mother's waist, face buried in her shirt, while Carol stared blankly at the body.
Her face was unreadable, like the grief wasn't sure where it was supposed to settle.
No one approached her.
No one said "I'm sorry."
Not even she seemed sure if she was.
Elsewhere in the camp, the atmosphere was strange. People mourned, yes, but not like they had expected to.
Not like they would've if it had been more than one person or at least someone other than Ed.
"…Could've been worse."
"…God, what if it had been one of the kids?"
"…If I'm being honest, at least it wasn't anyone that matters."
Guilt, relief, and quiet shame were painted on every face.
And yet, through all that, the masked men remained apart from the group.
Like wolves that had wandered into a camp of rabbits, done their work, and stayed only because they hadn't left yet.
Rick watched it all.
His arms loosened slightly, and he turned to where Lori stood with Carl, trying to comfort him the best she could.
He moved toward them and wrapped them all in his arms.
Lori leaned her forehead into his shoulder. Carl hugged him tightly.
Rick didn't say a word, he just silently held them in his arms and let the adrenaline drain out of his system in silence.
After some time has passed with everyone processing what happened last night.
They gathered everyone near the center of camp, some still rubbing sleep from their eyes, others looking over their shoulders like the woods would spit out another monster any second.
Doc, Hawk, and Hound stood at the back of the crowd, watching silently.
Rick stepped forward, taking the lead, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
"This place isn't safe."
He let the words hang there as everyone looked towards him, their attention focused on him.
"We thought it was… we wanted it to be, but last night proved otherwise, if not for them," he gestured to the three masked men. "We'd be digging more than a single grave right now."
A solemn silence hung heavily in the air when he said this, because what he said was true. They got lucky this time, but who's to say the same would happen the next time this happens?
Shane stepped up beside him, supporting him. "We've been fighting to survive, day by day, but we can't keep doing this, especially now that we know walkers can attack at any moment."
Rick nodded, patting him on the back, and continued to the point.
"That's why we need to move, we are going with them."
Some eyes widened as people instantly looked at the masked men again. Those unreadable masks, the blood still drying on their clothes, the way they hadn't said a single word all morning.
"They've offered us something better," Rick said. "A real chance. I know it's scary, and I know some of you still have doubts."
He looked around at the crowd, face hard with conviction.
"But if you want to live, really live, then pack your things. We leave in four hours, with or without you."
And with that, the crowd fell into murmurs again. Nervous glances. Quiet conversations, but no shouting in objections, no panic, and no argument.
Not this time.
As people slowly dispersed, packing what little they had, Rick stood in place for a long moment.
He turned, looking toward Hound, Hawk, and Doc.
Watched as they walked away to do God knows what.
_________
The warehouse was full of footsteps and the low hum of makeshift generators powering only what was necessary.
Leo stood near the back, hands on his hips, brow furrowed in deep thought as he stared at the half-gutted remains of a helicopter.
Its side panel was off, wiring exposed like a cracked-open skull, and the rotors had been removed for individual repairs.
Two clones were working nearby, one with a soldering iron and goggles, the other flipping through a wiring schematic, trying to figure it out.
A third clone, perched atop a scaffold above, was trying to wrestle a stubborn bolt off the rotor housing with a wrench and a string of curses.
Leo squinted up at the rotor mount, chewing a granola bar he hadn't realized had gone stale.
"It'll fly," he muttered to himself, his voice full of promise.
As if on cue, the lights flickered, and something exploded somewhere in the warehouse.
"…Please let it fly."
That was when one of the clones hurried over from the corner of the room holding a handheld radio.
"Hey, boss," the clone said, holding it out. "It's Hawk."
Leo took the radio with a raised brow, brushing oil off his hands before pressing the button.
Static crackled for a moment before Hawk's voice came through, sharp and to the point.
"We're coming back."
Leo blinked before smiling.
"That was fast, someone wants a promotion~"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Hawk grumbled through the radio. "We're bringing survivors with us, a lot of them."
There was a pause before he continued.
"We'll need medkits ready and quarantine procedures in place, expect arrival by nightfall."
Leo nodded, even though Hawk couldn't see it.
"Got it, I'll start clearing space and prepping supplies."
The signal cut out as the conversation ended.
He stared at the radio for a moment, then looked up at the helicopter again, then at the clones now glancing toward him for direction.
"Alright," Leo said, tossing the radio back to the clone. "You two, get Butcher, tell him to prep the south checkpoint and the gate crew. You—"
He pointed to the one up on the scaffold
"—Get down from there before you fall and break your neck."
"I have it!" the clone shouted back defensively.
"No, you have an accident waiting to happen! Let's go, people! We've got company coming!"