Later that evening, Rick and I stood near the campfire with nearly twenty people gathered around us. Rick had explained what happened: him being in a coma, with Dr. Gale Macones taking care of him, me bringing him and the aforementioned doctor back to the farm, him waking up a few days ago to a world gone dark. I stayed mostly silent, studying the group, evaluating them.
There was Glenn Rhee, sharp-eyed and quick-talking, the same man we'd pulled out of a mess of walkers earlier that day. There was T-Dog, a kind, selfless, and a quiet man, willing to fight for his allies. He's very religious, somewhat clumsy, but with a heart of gold. Jacqui, a cautious, smart, and very resourceful woman, stays calm in dire situations more than most grown men I'd served with. Carol, who sat with her daughter Sophia, her bruised face half hidden in the shadows beside Ed. Carol, an introverted, soft-spoken, often showing a meek and defenseless exterior, particularly when it comes to facing her abusive husband who already had that look I despised, the one that came from men who mistook bullying for strength. She's fiercely protective of her daughter, shielding her from danger.
And then there were the Dixon brothers, all swagger and disdain. A seemingly stereotypical southern redneck but a capable hunter and survivor, Daryl. His resembles Merle slightly, but he's significantly more level headed then his older brother Merle. He has a more softer, more emotional side than him as well as very resourceful and extremely loyal towards the people he cares about.
I took in every face before speaking. "This place," I said, my voice even but firm, "won't hold. You've got open terrain, no walls, no fallback points. One good horde and you'll be bones in the mud before morning."
A few murmurs rippled through the crowd. Shane folded his arms. "We've managed just fine without you, pal."
I met his gaze without flinching. "You've been lucky. Luck runs out. Once they clear the city of every living person, they'll wander out to find more."
Rick stepped forward. "Zephyr's right. We've barely made it out of the city. The dead are everywhere, and they're moving further out each day. He's got a place, a farmstead, reinforced fences, stocked with supplies. Safer then this."
Glenn nodded. "Make sense. This camp's open from every side."
But Shane's expression darkened. "You don't know what you're askin', Rick. We've built something here. People trust me to protect them."
I looked at him. "If you stay here, you will die." The camp went quiet.
Morales raised a hand, breaking the silence. "Look, I appreciate the offer, I do. But my family… we've got people down in Birmingham, Alabama. We were planning to head there once things settled."
I turned toward him, my expression unreadable. "You won't find them."
Morales frowned. "You don't know that."
"I do. I'm going to tell you something," I said quietly, "take it or leave it. Last week, on a scavenging hunt, I came across a soldier, one of the last still wearing the uniform. He was dying, scared, but he talked." Everyone leaned in slightly. "He told me about a project the military implemented during the early days of the apocalypse: Project Cobalt."
"It was the military's last line of defense. When they couldn't hold anymore, they invoked Sunset Protocol."
"Sunset Protocol?" Jacqui asked.
"Bombing them," I said flatly. "Major population centers, cities. All were bombed using napalm and other fire explosives. Los Angeles, California; Phoenix, Arizona; Seattle, Washington. All gone." Gasps rippled through the camp. Lori's hand tightened on Carl's shoulders.
"Jesus…" Glenn whispered.
Continuing, I said. "They were supposed to escort survivors to evacuation points. But command fell apart before the orders came through. You leave and you find nothing but burned highways, looted convoys, and raiders. Nothing else. Whatever you think you'll find in Birmingham, you won't."
Miranda Morales clutched her daughter's hand. "So what do we do now?"
My tone softened slightly. "You stick with people who can keep you alive. You move as one. You stop thinking about the world that was and start surviving in the world that is."
Morales stared at the dirt for a long time before finally nodding. "…Alright, we'll go."
Shane's patience finally snapped. "Bullshit!" he barked, stepping forward. "You expect us to take your word for it? Maybe you just want more hands at your little camp. Maybe that's your game!"
I met his glare evenly. "If I wanted control, I'd already have it. I won't waste breath arguing with people who won't last a month." Shane's face reddened. For a moment, Rick thought he'd throw a punch.
"Damn soldier boy's got a mouth on him," drawled Merle, perched on a dusty truck of an old vehicle, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. "Next you're gonna tell us you're runnin' the new world order, huh?"
I glanced his way. "You're still breathing. Must mean you know when to shut up."
Merle grinned, smoke curling from his lips. "I like you already." He flickered the cigarette aside and leaned forward. "But you don't get to waltz in here and play colonel when we've been doin' just fine without some hardass barking orders."
"Fine?" I asked. "Look around you, you've got half a dozen families sleeping in open air. One man snaps in the night, you're all corpses by dawn."
Merle's smile thinned. "You sound like my parole officer."
Before I could answer, Daryl spoke up from beside the fire, his voice quitter but firm. "He's not wrong, Merle. You seen them herds movin' closer every night. Ain't gonna take much before they sniff us out."
Merle shot his brother a sharp look. "Ain't asking you, little brother."
Shane was seething at this point. Rick stepped between us. "Shane, stop! You don't get to tell me what to do!"
Shane's head snapped toward him, veins bulging on his temple "You don't get to tell me what to do! You don't even know what it's been like keeping everyone alive! Keeping your family alive!"
Rick froze. The words hit a sledgehammer. Lori looked down, guilt flickering across her face. Shane glared past his at me. "You think you're saving them? You're just dragging them down into another grave."
I turned away, the argument already over in my head. "You've got till sunrise," I said simply. "We roll then. These who come, pack light. These who don't… good luck."
(To be continued...)