We moved in two vehicles, with my truck in front leading the way, Dale's RV following close behind. The roads were cluttered with abandoned vehicles, walkers stumbling between cars. Every so often, gunfire would echo somewhere in the distance. Duane and Morgan squeezed into the passenger seat with Ghost curling on top of the boy protectively, while Jenny rode in the RV.
Morgan kept his eyes on the horizon. "This farm of yours," he said quietly, "you really think it's safe?"
"For now," I answered. "Nothing's ever safe these days, but I've got walls, food, and a plan."
He nodded slowly. "A plan… that's more than most people got."
By the time we reached the farm, the sun was starting to set on the horizon. I parked by the barn and stepped out. "Welcome home," I said.
Morgan helped Duane out. Dale parked the RV near the fence, stepping out with the cautiousness of a man still processing what he'd seen. Andrea and Amy looked around; relief flickered in their eyes. Jim just stood there, looking at the ground.
"You've got a good setup here," Dale said, impressed.
"Just the basics for now," I replied. "We'll fortify, expand, make it livable."
Morgan chuckled faintly. "You sound like a soldier."
"I was," I said simply. "A long time ago."
Ghost barked, tail wagging. Duane laughed for the first time that day. It was small, but it was something.
"Alright, let's get you settled down," I said.
When night fell, we gathered around a small fire pit behind the farmhouse. Everyone was exhausted, uncertain, and quiet. I looked around the circle—strangers who, for now, had chosen to trust me.
"I know you're all scared," I began. "You should be. The world we knew is gone, but that doesn't mean we stop being human."
Dale nodded. "What do you suggest we do tomorrow?"
"We start securing the perimeter, set up supply rotations, train, plan, build." I looked at each of them. "We survive together."
They looked at each other with newly found determination, a faint spark of purpose.
As the others drifted off to rest, I sat by the dying fire, Ghost's head resting on my boot. I stared at the flames, feeling the weight of leadership pressing down. The world ended today, I thought, but maybe, just maybe, we get to decide what rises from the ashes.
The morning came with the crow of a rooster, a sound I hadn't heard in years. For a moment, I almost forgot the world ended. Then Ghost barked, jolting me from my thoughts. He stood by the door, tail stiff, ears perked toward the tree line. I slipped my Glock from under my pillow, checked the chamber, and scanned through the window. Nothing. Just the morning mist rolling over the fields.
"Easy, boy," I muttered. "You're jumpy today." Truth is, we all were.
From the porch, I could see the others starting to stir. Morgan was already checking the perimeter fence. Jenny and Andrea were tending to breakfast and a pot of coffee. Duane and Amy were fetching water from the well. Dale was perched on the roof of his RV, binoculars in hand, acting as our sentry. And Jim… Jim was quietly fixing the fence posts, like a man who needed work to keep his mind off the ghosts. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
I walked toward the group. "Morning," I greeted, my voice steady.
Morgan looked up. "Slept good?"
"A couple of hours. Enough to function."
He nodded knowingly. "Soldier habits die hard."
"Some habits keep you alive," I replied.
From a distance, I watched them, how they moved. You could learn everything about people by watching what they did when they thought no one was looking. Jenny moved like someone used to caring for others. Dale, calm and older, had leadership qualities but was too soft for the coming world; still, he would make for an excellent counselor and lookout. Andrea was strong and capable but impulsive; I'd need to keep her focused before emotions got her or others killed. Jim was useful, strong, and practical; his mechanical skills will be invaluable for the days to come, but losing his family left cracks that could spread under pressure. Morgan, a resourceful survivor, unbroken like what happened in canon, is the kind of man I could trust to watch my back if things went south.
These weren't soldiers, not by a long shot, but they could be something better: a team.
By noon, I gathered everyone in front of the barn. Ghost sat beside me, ears flicking back and forth as I spoke.
"Alright, listen up. This place is our lifeline. If we want to keep it that way, we need order. Everyone pulls their weight, no exceptions."
Andrea crossed her arms. "And who made you the boss?"
I met her gaze without flinching. "No one. But I've led people through worse. If someone else wants to step up, speak now."
Silence. The wind rustled through the fields. Amy tugged at Andrea's clothes with a pleading look.
Dale cleared his throat softly. "He's right, Andrea. We need structure if we want to survive. You know what's happening out there."
She looked away, tension easing up a bit. "Fine. But don't expect us to follow military law."
"Fair enough," I said. "This isn't a boot camp. It's survival." I pointed at a hand-drawn map on the door of the barn. "Perimeter needs reinforcing. We've got weak spots west side and gaps near the back fence." I turned to Morgan. "Morgan, you and Jim will need to handle that. Dale, you're on the lookout rotation. Andrea and Amy, scavenging preps. I'll handle supply management and weapon checks. Jenny, you oversee cooking and inventory updates."
Jenny nodded with a faint smile. "Copy that."
Andrea frowned. "Weapon checks? You're keeping all the guns?"
"I'm keeping them safe," I said evenly. "Everyone will get armed once I know they can fire without hitting each other."
Ghost barked, as if agreeing to my words. Dale chuckled. "Looks like even the dog agrees," earning a faint grin from Duane.
(To be continued...)