The sight of the Winnebago, so iconic, so out of place yet perfectly in place in this gallery of vehicular tombstones, made Ethan's breath catch. The System's confirmation of a "high probability of significant canon intersection" wasn't just data; it was a jolt that resonated deeper than the ever-present fear. These were potentially the people from the fragmented stories, the legends of this new, dead world. Lily's innocent observation had led them to a precipice.
The rhythmic clank… clank… clank echoed intermittently from the RV's direction, a beacon of human activity in the vast silence of the dead.
"Lily, we need to be extra careful now," Ethan whispered, his gaze fixed on the distant RV. "There are people over there. We don't know if they're friendly. Stay even closer than before, and don't make a sound unless I tell you to."
She nodded, her eyes wide, pressing herself against his leg.
[TARGET AREA: WINNEBAGO RV (APPROXIMATELY 100 YARDS). CURRENT ASSESSMENT: ONE ACTIVE HUMAN BIOSIGNATURE DETECTED NEAR RV EXTERIOR (SOURCE OF AUDITORY STIMULI). MULTIPLE DORMANT/LOW-ACTIVITY BIOSIGNATURES WITHIN RV LIKELY. AMBIENT WALKER DENSITY AROUND RV: MODERATE, BUT CURRENTLY UNALERTED TO HUMAN ACTIVITY. RECOMMENDED APPROACH: UTILIZE WRECKED SEMI-TRAILER (3 O'CLOCK) FOR COVERED ADVANCE.]
Ethan guided Lily towards the semi-trailer, its bulk offering a substantial visual and sound barrier. They moved like ghosts, the System highlighting individual Walkers shambling between cars, allowing them to plot a course that avoided direct lines of sight. The metallic clanking grew louder, more defined. It sounded like someone trying to pry something open, or perhaps repeatedly striking metal.
As they neared the end of the trailer, peering cautiously around its edge, Ethan finally saw him. A young man, Asian-American, wearing a distinctive baseball cap, was crouched beside a battered sedan a short distance from the RV. He had a tire iron in his hand and was methodically trying to force open the car's trunk, the source of the rhythmic banging.
Ethan's mind, cross-referencing with the System's earlier, vague "survivor profile" data from pre-blackout accounts, clicked. Glenn Rhee. The name surfaced with an almost electric certainty, though he knew he couldn't, mustn't, show any recognition.
[HUMAN TARGET IDENTIFIED (VISUAL CONFIRMATION): GLENN RHEE (PROBABILITY 95% BASED ON PROFILE MARKERS). CURRENT ACTIVITY: SCAVENGING. APPARENTLY ALONE AND FOCUSED ON TASK. IMMEDIATE THREAT LEVEL FROM TARGET: LOW. VULNERABILITY TO SURPRISE: HIGH.]
"Okay," Ethan breathed out, mostly to himself. "Time to say hello." He looked down at Lily. "Wait here for just one second, right behind this tire. I'll call you over if it's okay."
He stepped out from behind the trailer, hands held open and away from his bat, which he deliberately kept slung low. "Excuse me!" he called out, his voice clear but not overly loud, aiming for non-threatening. "Hello there!"
Glenn whirled around, dropping the tire iron with a clatter, his hand instantly darting to a knife sheathed on his belt. His eyes, wide and alert, fixed on Ethan, then flicked past him, scanning for other threats. He was coiled like a spring, ready to fight or flee.
"Whoa, easy! Just me," Ethan said, raising his hands a little higher. "And my… my daughter. We're survivors. We mean no harm." He motioned for Lily to slowly step out.
Lily, hesitant but obedient, emerged from behind the semi-trailer, clutching her apple core. The sight of a small child visibly made Glenn relax, though only marginally. His posture eased, but his eyes remained wary.
"Daughter?" Glenn questioned, his gaze shifting between Ethan and Lily. "Where did you two come from? Didn't see you on the road."
"We came off an access ramp further back," Ethan explained, keeping his tone even. "Had a vehicle, but this… this highway graveyard put an end to that plan pretty quick. We've been on foot for the last mile or so through this mess." He gestured vaguely at the surrounding carnage. "Saw your RV. Figured where there's a working RV, there might be sensible people."
Glenn considered this, his eyes still assessing. "Sensible? Some days I wonder," he muttered with a slight, wry grimace that seemed to fit the profile Ethan's System held. "You alone, just the two of you?"
"Just us," Ethan confirmed. "Name's Ethan. This is Lily."
"Glenn," the young man replied, finally lowering his hand from his knife. "You picked a hell of a place to go for a stroll. This highway's crawling."
"Tell me about it," Ethan said. "We're just trying to find somewhere safe. Heard Atlanta might have… well, might have had something. Information's a bit out of date, I guess."
[ANALYZING GLENN RHEE'S PHYSIOLOGICAL RESPONSE: STRESS LEVELS DECREASING. WARINESS REMAINS, BUT NO IMMEDIATE HOSTILE INTENT DETECTED. TRUTH ASSESSMENT OF HIS STATEMENTS: HIGH PROBABILITY OF SINCERITY.]
The System's silent input was reassuring.
"Atlanta was a bust," Glenn said bluntly. "Overrun. CDC too, or so we heard. We were there. Not pretty." He looked at Lily again, a softer expression on his face. "You guys got water? Food?"
"A little," Ethan admitted. "Scavenged some on the way here. Always looking for more."
Before Glenn could reply, a new voice called down from atop the RV. "Glenn? Everything alright down there? Who you talking to?"
An older man with a weathered face, kind eyes, and a fishing hat appeared on the RV's roof, a pair of binoculars around his neck. Dale Horvath. The System didn't even need to confirm it; the image was iconic.
"Just a couple of new faces, Dale!" Glenn called back up. "A man and a little girl. Seem okay."
Dale scrutinized them from his perch for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Well, don't keep 'em standing out in the open auction block. Bring 'em closer. We can spare some water."
Glenn turned back to Ethan and Lily with a hesitant smile. "Come on. Our little slice of hell is just over here. Got a few others. We're camped just off the main line of cars."
As they followed Glenn, weaving through a few more vehicles, Ethan felt a profound shift. This was it. They were no longer just two isolated survivors against the world. They had made contact. The System in his mind was a silent observer, cataloging, analyzing, but the warmth of Glenn's guarded welcome and the prospect of other human beings – canon human beings – was a purely human feeling of trepidation and fragile hope.
They rounded a large, overturned truck, and Ethan saw their camp: a small cluster of cars and a couple of tents huddled near the Winnebago, forming a makeshift, defensible perimeter. A woman with short, blonde hair was tending a small, smoky fire. Another younger woman with darker hair sat nearby, looking listless. Figures moved within the shadows of the tents.
This was the beginning of something entirely new.