Night talk in a dead town

The woods were dark, swallowing the footprints.

Lynn withdrew his gaze. The depths of those shadows unsettled him, but the numbers ticking in his field of vision were more urgent: 47:08:15... Time waited for no one.

"Get in."

Lynn's hoarse voice broke the silence in the backyard.

He turned, his movements weary but resolute.

The target had moved, and the trail led into the woods, but they could not go in now.

Everyone was physically exhausted, ammunition was running low, Rick was in bad shape, and night was approaching. All of it spelled trouble.

Rick knelt in the mud, fingers digging into the dirt, staring fixedly at the hollow in the tree.

Min-seon stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

Davis kept his gun trained on the fence and the shadows of the neighboring houses. He had no objection to Lynn's order-leave this place.

Davis hauled Rick to his feet and shoved him into the jeep's back seat. Min-seon followed.

Lynn took one last look at the wrecked, bloodstained house and climbed into the passenger seat.

The engine roared, and the jeep rolled over the lawn and onto the street.

The air inside was stifling.

Rick sat slumped back, trembling with his eyes closed, his axe and gun clenched tightly in his hands.

Lynn stared at the ruined streets outside the window. Tracking required strength, clues, and preparation.

They needed somewhere to spend the night, replenish their medicine and ammunition, and, above all, let Rick regain some strength.

"Find somewhere to spend the night first," Lynn said over the engine. "Get medicine from a pharmacy or clinic, then check the empty houses for food, water, and especially ammunition."

Davis glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Understood, Boss."

He turned into a narrow street lined with dilapidated shops.

Drawn by the noise, several walkers staggered out of an alley.

Davis's gaze turned cold, and he floored the accelerator.

Thud! Crack!

The walkers went flying, foul blood splashing across the wire mesh over the windshield.

The jeep jolted and kept going.

Before long, darkness had fallen completely.

The jeep's headlights cut through the dark.

The engine sounded especially loud on the deathly silent streets.

"Over there!" Min-seon pointed at the corner ahead. A damaged neon sign glowed: "Phar...cy"-a pharmacy.

The jeep braked hard outside the pharmacy.

Its rolling shutter had been pried halfway open. Inside was pitch-black.

The smells of dust, medicine, and faint decay drifted out.

"Davis, clear the place. Min-seon, find medicine, especially antibiotics, painkillers, and glucose. Be quick."

Lynn gave the orders and pushed open his door, getting out with his gun in hand.

Davis charged in first with his shotgun raised. Several shots and the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the floor came from inside.

"Clear!"

Davis's voice rang out.

Min-seon went in carrying the first-aid bag, her flashlight sweeping quickly over toppled shelves and scattered medicine boxes.

At Lynn's signal, Rick got out and leaned against the jeep's door to keep watch, his gaze somewhat vacant.

Lynn guarded the entrance, his muzzle pointed at the dark street.

The footsteps and growls of walkers came from the distance, drawn by the lights and gunfire.

"Boss, there's a door in back leading to a residential area. The little building next door looks decent." Davis poked his head out from the back of the pharmacy and wiped his face. "It's locked, but the door's flimsy."

Lynn glanced at Min-seon and Rick. "That one, then. Clear it out."

Davis nodded and disappeared through the pharmacy's back door.

The sound of a door splintering came from behind, followed by several shots and dull thuds. A moment later: "Clear! Small living room, but it'll do."

By the time Min-seon emerged carrying the stuffed first-aid bag, Davis had driven the jeep to the little building's entrance.

The front door had been broken open.

Everyone hurried inside. Davis and Lynn toppled an old bookcase to block the broken doorway.

The ground floor was a small sitting room thick with dust. Two walkers lay in the corner with their heads shot open.

"Check upstairs."

Lynn gestured.

Davis went upstairs with his gun raised, the stairs creaking beneath him. He returned shortly afterward. "Two small bedrooms upstairs, both empty. Windows are fine."

"The two of us will take turns keeping watch. Davis, take the first half of the night. I'll take the second.

"Min-seon, Rick, get some rest."

Lynn assigned the shifts and tossed Rick a bottle of water and some compressed biscuits. "Eat. Get your strength back. Tomorrow will put you through enough."

Rick took them numbly and sat down against a corner. For a long while, he left the food untouched.

Lynn left him alone and sat in a corner himself to check his magazines. Only two and a half remained.

Davis was low on shotgun shells too. Tomorrow, once the zombies tracked them down, things would be even more dangerous.

They had just settled in, and the tension had eased a little-

Knock... knock, knock...

A very soft, hesitant knocking came from behind the bookcase blocking the door.

Everyone froze.

Davis abruptly raised his gun toward the entrance. Lynn and Min-seon drew theirs too. Rick jolted awake and snatched up his axe.

There was nothing but breathing and that faint tapping.

Knock... knock, knock...

It was not the pounding of a walker, but a tentative knock.

A living person?

Lynn's gaze sharpened. He signaled for silence, moved soundlessly to the door, and listened closely. "Who is it?" he asked quietly.

After several seconds of silence outside, an equally hushed, trembling male voice replied, "I... we mean no harm. We saw the light... and the car... We just wanted to ask..."

The voice was full of exhaustion and fear.

Lynn exchanged a glance with Davis.

Davis kept his muzzle steady.

Lynn drew a breath. "How many?"

"Two... two. Just me and my son."

Lynn hesitated. In the apocalypse, strangers meant risk.

He only wanted to complete the mission, not invite complications.

He looked at Rick, who was looking back at him, struggling with the responsibility his badge carried and the kindness he still had left.

Lynn was about to refuse when Rick struggled to his feet and called hoarsely through the door, "Are you... safe? It's dangerous outside."

His tone carried his professional instincts.

The voice outside sounded relieved. "For now... we're safe. We've been hiding nearby... My name's Morgan. This is my son, Duane."

Morgan! Duane!

Lynn's heart tightened. So it was that father and son. He did know something of Morgan's reputation as a holy mother in the original story.

"We can't help you," Lynn said coldly, speaking before Rick could. "This place isn't safe either. We're leaving at dawn. You'd better leave too."

His meaning was clear. He only wanted them gone.

After a brief silence outside, Morgan spoke bitterly. "Leave... for where? Those things... are everywhere. My wife... she..."

His voice choked off.

Rick's expression was complicated. That pain had touched him.

He pushed aside Lynn's restraining hand and walked up to the door. His voice was low and exhausted, yet reassuring. "Morgan?... I'm Rick Grimes, a deputy with the county sheriff's department. What... happened out there? I was unconscious for a long time..."

Morgan sounded as though he had found an outlet, his voice rising with agitation. "Sheriff?! God... you're still alive? You don't know... everything out there is gone!"

He began speaking in fragments: chaos breaking out, people biting people, the military coming and then withdrawing, the television and radio falling silent after their final evacuation announcements... He had hidden at home with his son, watched his wife fall, then turn... turn into one of those things outside, wandering the streets every day...

Morgan's disjointed account coldly confirmed everything Lynn had told Rick.

Rick leaned against the door and listened, his body trembling slightly as his last shred of hope shattered.

Lynn leaned against the wall, watching coldly.

In the end, Rick opened the door, let the two of them inside, and shared some food and water with them.

Lynn did not interfere. He closed his eyes to rest, planning tomorrow's route and considering its dangers.

Night deepened!

The voices by the door faded, leaving only stifled sobbing and breathing.

Rick wearily returned to his corner and sat down. Morgan's words had made him even more silent.

When pale morning light filtered through the gaps in the dusty windows, Lynn opened his eyes and stretched his stiff body. It was time to leave.

Davis and Min-seon had already packed their equipment.

Rick leaned against the wall, his face haggard, his eyes holding more ferocity and urgency.

Lynn signaled for Davis to move the bookcase. The door opened a crack, and cold air carrying the stench of decay rushed inside.

Morgan and Duane were curled up in the corner behind the door, their faces blue with cold, both utterly haggard.

"We're leaving."

Lynn's voice held no warmth. His gaze swept over the father and son, then stopped on Morgan's face.

He stopped walking and addressed Morgan, his tone calm but meaningful. "Morgan."

Morgan looked up at him.

Lynn's gaze was sharp. "If you stay... keep an eye on your wife. Don't let your son get close."

Without looking at Morgan's drastically changed expression, he turned and strode toward the jeep, its engine running.

Rick gave Morgan and his son one last look. He wanted to say something, but it became only a sigh. With Min-seon's support, he climbed into the jeep.

The roar of the jeep's engine tore through the morning stillness.

Lynn sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the dark woods-the direction where the footprints had disappeared.

The countdown ticked: 40:43:18...

Morgan gripped Duane's hand tightly, standing in the morning light as he watched the jeep drive away.

His body trembled at Lynn's words. His gaze turned toward the rotting figure in a floral dress wandering the distant street, the chain tethering her swaying gently in the wind.