The old farmhouse gate creaked under Rick's grip. He scanned the tree line where moonlight bled through bare branches. Shadows moved—too fluid for the dead. Beside him, Stowey spat tobacco juice into the dirt. "Counted seven," he muttered, thumbing his shotgun's safety. "All armed. That one's got a chainsaw."
Carl leaned closer to the fence slats, pulse drumming in his ears. "Why aren't they rushing in?" carl ask his dad.
" go find your mother" he said quietly, eyes locked on the chainsaw wielder who revved his engine twice—a guttural challenge that drowned out the night insects. Carl slipped away, boots silent on packed earth. Behind the farmhouse, Lily peeled off her flannel shirt, movements fluid as water. Moonlight caught the old scar running from collarbone to hip—a souvenir from the last pack war. She didn't shift slowly like in stories; one moment human, the next a white-furred wolf melting through the fence's gap near the compost heap. Only Saila noticed, giving a soft whine before settling beside Tomas's unconscious form to feed her cub.
Stowey's crew braced against the west fence, shotgun barrels resting on weathered wood. Rick's group mirrored them east, crossbows and pitchforks trembling in unsteady hands. They watched the intruders fan out—seven figures in mismatched armor circling the perimeter. Chainsaw Guy spat near Shane's boots. "Smell that?" Shane hissed. "Gasoline and... rancid meat." Daryl nocked an arrow. "Baiting the dead. Stupid."
these bastard are trying to size them up, seven cant take on two groups at the same time so they want to bring a herd down on them. stupid, but as far as daryl and fen could tell none of the seven had any guns.
Lily padded softly across the ground her paws making no noise as she stalk the unwared human males.
The white wolf melted through the moonlit brush, her fur catching silvered dew. She moved like water flowing downhill—silent, inevitable. Ahead, Chainsaw Guy kicked at a rotten stump, his breath frosting in ragged clouds. Lily tasted the air: gasoline, unwashed skin, and beneath it, the sour tang of infection. *Weak*, she thought. *Already rotting*. She circled downwind, positioning herself between the raiders and the riverbank where Sophia had spotted movement. Her ears flattened as distant moans carried on the breeze. *They're calling the dead with that noise. Stupid.*
Daryl must of notice her because he march to the gate and stood by rick and said something, her eyes found ricks and he gave a nod.
Rick's knuckles whitened on the fence rail as Lily's wolf form vanished into the undergrowth. Across the compound, Stowey's men tightened their grips on pitchforks, eyes darting between the circling raiders and the woods where Lily had disappeared. Only Saila remained utterly still, ears pricked toward the riverbank—a silent sentinel.
Daryl shoved through the gate, crossbow lowered but eyes sharp. "She's flanking 'em," he muttered to Rick, nodding toward the rustling reeds downstream. "Gotta buy her time." Rick raised his voice, cold and carrying: "You with the chainsaw! State your business!" Chainsaw Guy revved his weapon, the grinding roar drowning distant moans. "Meat wagon tipped over back on Route 9," he shouted, grease-streaked face splitting into a grin. "Heard you bagged venison. We'll take half."
Stowey spat over the fence. "Like hell." He racked his shotgun—a harsh, metallic *shuck-shuck*. The sound froze the raiders. Chainsaw Guy's grin vanished. Behind him, a man clutching a fire axe shifted nervously, eyes darting toward the river's dark murmurs. Lily's white form ghosted between birch trunks, unseen. She smelled their fear-sweat now, sour beneath the gasoline. *Good*. Let them hear the dead coming closer.
Rick kept his voice level, ice-cold. "You're drawing a horde. Leave now, or we all die screaming." Chainsaw Guy revved his saw again, but the roar wavered. "Give us the meat! We ain't leavin' empty-handed!" One raider—a gaunt woman with crow feathers braided into her hair—suddenly hissed, pointing toward the riverbank. "Lenny! Movement!" Lily froze mid-step, belly fur brushing damp ferns. Thirty yards downstream, shambling shapes emerged from the waterline reeds. Five. Ten. More.
Daryl spat. "Fen. East fence." Fen nodded, slipping away with Saila padding beside him. Carl scrambled onto the gatepost, squinting. "They're… dragging something." Chainsaw Guy followed Carl's gaze. His smirk returned. "Bait's workin'. You got two minutes 'fore thirty stiffs hit your wire." Rick's finger tightened on his trigger guard. "Last chance. Walk away." The raider with the fire axe backed up a step. "Boss… maybe we—" Chainsaw Guy snarled. "Shut it!"
Lily crouched behind a thorny thicket. The dead stumbled closer—twenty paces, fifteen. She smelled river-slime and decay. Chainsaw Guy's voice carried clearly: "Fine! We'll take the kid! The sick one!" Elena's gasp echoed from the barn doorway. Lily's muscles coiled. She'd heard enough.
The white wolf exploded from the brush. Not toward the raiders—but toward the closest walker. Her jaws clamped its rotten neckbone with a wet *crack*. She flung it sideways into another shambler. Chaos erupted. Chainsaw Guy spun, blade roaring. "Wolf!" he screamed. Too late. Lily hit the second walker's spine, buckling its knees. The corpse tumbled into the raider with the fire axe, knocking him flat.
"Flank!" Rick roared. Daryl's crossbow bolt *thwipped* past Chainsaw Guy's ear. The man flinched—a heartbeat's hesitation. Lily used it. She bounded off the fallen walker, paws churning mud, and slammed into Chainsaw Guy's legs. He crashed backward, the saw shrieking as it gouged earth. Gasoline fumes choked the air.
"Get it off!" he screamed, kicking wildly. Lily dodged, teeth snapping at his flailing arm. She tasted leather, then blood—hot and metallic. Not a killing bite. A message. *Run.* Behind her, the fire-axe raider scrambled upright, eyes wide on the approaching horde. "Lenny's down! Move!" He bolted toward the trees. Two others followed, abandoning their leader.
Chainsaw Guy thrashed, gasoline soaking his pants. Lily backed off, hackles high. Daryl's voice cut through the moans: "Wolf! Clear!" Rick's rifle cracked once. The chainsaw sputtered and died as the bullet punched through its engine block. Oil pooled black in the moonlight. "Go!" Rick shouted at the remaining raiders. "While you still can!" The crow-feathered woman hesitated, staring at Lenny's twitching form pinned under a walker. Then she fled.
Lily didn't watch them run. Her ears swiveled toward the riverbank. The horde advanced—twenty shambling figures now, drawn by the chainsaw's death rattle and spilled blood. Fen materialized beside her, Saila at his heels. He tossed Lily a canvas satchel. Inside: sulfa pills, gauze, a bone needle threaded with catgut. "Barn's barred," he said. "Stowey's holding the gate." Lily shifted back to human form in a ripple of muscle and fur, snatching the satchel. "Buy me five minutes. Keep them off the east fence."
she said as she ran back to the gate she past rick and told him to tendend to the woman and man. before shifting and help daryl with the walker herd.
The white wolf blurred past Rick, fur brushing his leg like wind-driven snow. "Tend the barn!" she snapped mid-stride, already shifting—muscles rippling under reforming skin as she cleared the gatepost in one fluid leap. Daryl didn't flinch when she landed beside him in wolf form, already scanning the advancing dead. Thirty shamblers now, maybe more, drawn by gasoline fumes and spilled blood. "East fence's weakest," Daryl grunted, reloading his crossbow. "Fen's holding 'em back with pitchforks." Lily's lupine gaze tracked the horde's edges—rotting farmers in overalls, a mail carrier dragging a swollen leg, teenagers in prom dresses shredded to gray rags. Their moans layered into a dissonant choir. *Slow*, she assessed. *But thick as canasta cards in Granny's deck.* will they be able to fight this time or will they have to run, she already to the others if thing look bad to run, she hope that was not the case and they could remain here for now the cub she new of growning in her belly, the three young humans in the barn with their mother and family and the other group had no where to go.
but the more the killed the more the walkers grew in numbers.... the once bright sky turns dark and grey as the clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. the rain started to fall lightly at first then heavy as it mixed with the blood and mud on the ground. the walkers were slipping and falling in the mud making them easier to kill but also harder to see. the rain was washing away the blood and guts making the ground slick and dangerous. the group was getting tired and the walkers were not stopping. they were coming from all directions now. the group was surrounded. they had to make a run for it. they had to get to the barn and barricade themselves inside. but the barn was on the other side of the compound. they had to run now or they would not get away, lily jump up onto a boulder and howled out the signal to run.