The group crowded into Kenny's aging truck, which sputtered and wheezed before finally coming to a complete stop. With a collective sigh of resignation, everyone climbed out and began to walk down the deserted street. As they moved, Lee paused momentarily in front of his family's pharmacy, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Duck, ever the curious child, pointed excitedly at a figure in the distance, near an abandoned car.
Kenny waved his arms enthusiastically, trying to get the stranger's attention, but as the figure looked up, the hopeful anticipation turned to horror. It was not a survivor but a zombie, hunched over a corpse, gnawing at the remains of a dead human. The sight sent a chill down the group's spine, and soon, they were surrounded by a horde of ravenous zombies, closing in with menacing growls. In the chaos, one of the zombies knocked Duck to the ground, its decaying hands reaching for him.
Just as panic threatened to take over, a gunshot rang out, echoing in the air. The zombie crumpled to the side, collapsing on Duck, who was now splattered with the creature's blood. Coughing and sputtering, Duck scrambled back to the group, where his parents enveloped him in a protective hug. The woman who had saved him continued firing into the advancing mass of zombies, while another survivor stood guard at the entrance of the pharmacy. Carley, with steely determination, fired off several more shots, creating a brief window for the group to retreat into the building behind Glenn.
As Glenn rushed to close and padlock the heavy metal gate, the relentless pounding of zombie hands against it echoed ominously in the air. Inside the pharmacy, two additional survivors were already present. One of them was Micah Bell, a man with a dark past. Once a notorious gunslinger who had met his end at the hands of John Marston in 1907, he found himself inexplicably thrust into the world of The Walking Dead in 2012. Confused but opportunistic, he quickly adapted to this new reality, realizing that his skills would serve him well in this post-apocalyptic landscape.
Dressed in the same clothing he died in—a rugged ensemble that included a weathered coat—Micah had fortuitously arrived with his favorite revolver. After a quick encounter with an unsuspecting man, he had taken the opportunity to commandeer a more practical outfit: a red shirt, blue jeans, and black loafers. It wasn't his style, but it was better than nothing.
Understanding the need for allies in this unforgiving world, Micah had come across Carley and Doug in a precarious situation. Despite his initial reluctance to team up with a woman, he recognized Carley's shooting skills and begrudgingly accepted her into his makeshift crew. He also saved a young Korean man he referred to as "Coolie," while Carley had been dubbed "Hussy."
"We can't afford to take risks like this," Micah stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "If someone gets in our way, we do what we have to do."
"And we can't just let people die, either," Carley shot back, her eyes blazing.
"Look, it's every man for himself out here. We can't babysit everyone," Micah replied, his voice dripping with indifference.
"We've got kids with us," Lee interjected, trying to reason with him.
In the background, Clementine edged closer to the bathroom, her small frame tense with uncertainty.
"I'd head out there again in a second," Glenn frowned, his resolve clear.
"Sure, if you want to play the hero. Just don't expect a medal for being stupid, Coolie," Micah scoffed, his disdain palpable.
"I would too," Carley chimed in.
"Of course you would, Hussy," Micah rolled his eyes.
"They've got kids, Micah," Glenn reminded him, his voice rising in frustration.
"Kids? So what? The world ain't gonna stop for them," Micah shrugged dismissively.
"Maybe you should join 'em then. You'll have something in common!" Kenny shot back, anger flaring in his chest.
"He's an asshole, that's for sure," Lee muttered, casting a scornful glance at Micah.
"Did we ask for your opinion, darkie?" Micah sneered, and the room fell silent as Lee glared at him, the racial slur cutting deep.
"Watch your mouth," Kenny warned, fists clenched.
"Everyone, chill the fuck out!" Carley shouted, trying to maintain order.
"Shut your damn mouth, Hussy! We gotta keep it down, or those things will come barging in here!" Micah glared at her, his patience wearing thin.
"Lee?" Clementine's voice broke through the tension as she stood at the bathroom door.
"Yeah?" Lee turned to her, concern flickering in his eyes.
"Someone's in there," Clementine said, her small voice trembling.
"It's just locked. The key's probably behind the counter," Lee reassured her, though his focus remained on Micah.
"Listen, if you want to stick around in my crew, you better listen to me and follow my orders," Micah warned, a predatory glint in his eye.
"Or what?" Kenny challenged, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Or you'll be tossed out there for the rotters; it doesn't matter if you've got kids or not," Micah said, his tone unwavering.
"Knock this guy out," Lee suggested, his frustration boiling over.
"Happily," Kenny replied, stepping forward and throwing a punch at Micah.
But Micah was too quick. He blocked Kenny's fist with ease and countered with a powerful punch to Kenny's jaw, sending him crashing to the ground in a stunned heap. The room fell silent, shock etched on everyone's faces as Micah pulled out his revolver, stepping on Kenny's chest and aiming the barrel directly at his head.
"What now, big man?" Micah taunted, a cruel smirk plastered on his face.
Just then, Clementine screamed as the bathroom door swung open, revealing a zombie eager to feast. In a flash, Micah spun his revolver on his finger and took aim, but Lee was already grappling with the walker, throwing himself into the fray to save Clementine. With a precise shot, Micah dispatched the creature, its body crumpling to the floor.
Lee, panting and wide-eyed, glanced at Micah, who simply shrugged off the moment with a dismissive smirk. He blew the smoke from his gun's barrel as he stepped off Kenny's chest, applying a bit of pressure to his ribcage. "Don't do that again, boy," he taunted, holstering his weapon.
"Uh... Guys?" Glenn called out, drawing everyone's attention as the sounds of growling zombies intensified, their fists pounding against the door.
Kenny huddled close to his family, while Clementine hid behind Lee. The rest of the group knelt behind shelves for cover, except for Micah, who leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold with a hint of amusement. Suddenly, gunfire erupted from outside, punctuating the tense atmosphere.
"Is that the military?" Lee asked, glancing around.
"Thank God for whatever it is," Glenn sighed with a hint of relief.
"Military or not, ain't nobody coming to save us. You all should be looking out for yourselves, not waiting for some heroes to roll in," Micah remarked, scanning the anxious faces around him, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
"Everyone else should get comfy and look for anything useful. We could be in here for a while," Kenny suggested, groaning as he rubbed his bruised face.
"I'm starting to think this drugstore isn't a permanent solution," Glenn noted, glancing around uneasily.
"You're right; this ain't exactly Fort Knox," Kenny replied.
"What do you suggest?" Lee asked, turning to Glenn.
"We need as much gas as possible so we can all get out of downtown Macon. Fast," Glenn replied, determination in his voice.
"Agreed," Lee nodded in agreement.
"Then I'll head out and get gas. There's a motel not too far from here, towards the end of Peachtree. I'll work my way to it and then loop back, siphoning what I can," Glenn explained.
"Gas, huh? Sounds like a plan, but I ain't exactly keen on you wandering off alone. This place is crawling with trouble. You sure you can handle yourself out there, Coolie? Or are you just itching for a little adventure?" Micah challenged, his eyes narrowing.
"Well, it's gotta get done. Plus, I'm quick and I know Macon," Glenn replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Local?" Lee asked, a smile breaking through the tension.
"Born and raised," Glenn grinned back.
Micah leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk creeping onto his face as he listened to the banter. Sensing the tension, he decided to make his move.
"Look, I'll make this simple," Micah said, his tone casual but laced with intensity. "Glenn's right. We need gas, and we need it fast. But I ain't letting you go out there alone."
Kenny scrutinized Micah carefully, clearly suspicious of his motives. "What's your plan? You think you can just swoop in and be the hero?"
"Not a hero," Micah replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just practical. You go with him. You're already banged up, but you're still better off than him alone out there."
Kenny scoffed, glancing at Glenn. "You really think I'm gonna babysit this guy?"
"Think of it as a partnership," Micah continued smoothly, his voice persuasive. "You want to keep your family safe, right? Then you need to make sure Glenn doesn't get himself killed. Besides, if anything goes wrong, you'll need to be there to back him up. You know how it goes out there."
Glenn shifted uncomfortably, trying to gauge the tension between the two men. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself. I don't need someone watching my back."
Micah laughed lightly, but there was no humor in it. "You're good, Glenn, but this isn't just a stroll through the park. You ever tried to outrun a horde? Or worse, a group of desperate scavengers? You need someone to watch your six."
Kenny hesitated, his protective instincts flaring as he thought about his family. Micah could see the internal struggle, and he pressed further. "Think about it, boy. It's either you two go together, or you risk losing both of them if Glenn gets caught out there alone. I don't think you want to take that chance."
Finally, Kenny exhaled sharply, conceding. "Fine. You win. But if he gets hurt, I'm holding you responsible."
"Fair enough," Micah replied, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Now let's get this show on the road. Everyone else should get comfy and look for anything useful. We could be in here for a while."
With that, Micah turned and walked away, leaving Kenny with no choice but to prepare for the outing.
———
Lee approached Micah, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Uh... you're a pretty good shot."
"Yeah, well, practice makes perfect. You gotta be quick on the draw if you wanna survive in this hellhole," Micah replied, a sarcastic edge to his words.
Lee nodded, feeling uncomfortable in Micah's presence. "Was anyone here when you guys arrived?"
"You mean besides those two corpses? Nah, just us. Seems like they picked the wrong place to settle down if you catch my drift," Micah said, his tone casual but laced with disdain.
Lee gasped slightly, looking away. "What, you know 'em or something?" Micah asked, mockery dripping from his words.
"Yeah, the owners. They were... we were close," Lee admitted, his voice dropping.
"We stumbled on this old couple in the office. Made Glenn haul 'em out, no fuss," Micah said, his tone dismissive.
"What do you think about all this?" Lee pressed.
"What do I think? I think it's just another day in paradise. Hell, if they're too stupid to stay dead, that just means more targets for me," Micah replied, menace creeping into his words.
———
Moments later, Kenny and Glenn returned, appearing slightly disheveled but alive. Micah walked over, curiosity etched on his face. "Got what we need?"
"Yeah," Kenny nodded, glancing at Glenn. "Had a couple of close calls, but... we're fine."
"I've got a few cans of gas for Kenny's pickup truck in the trunk of my car," Glenn said, his hands on his hips, looking at the floor.
"Good," Micah smirked, satisfaction evident in his expression.
Meanwhile, Katjaa and Duck rushed over to Kenny, relief flooding their faces as they embraced him. "And things back here?" Kenny asked, turning to Micah.
"Boring," Micah scoffed, scanning the room.
"Next, we should get into the pharmacy. Get some important things," Lee suggested, stepping closer.
"Then get to it," Micah replied, his tone dismissive but firm.
Lee sighed but nodded in agreement, knowing they had little time to waste.
———
With grim determination, Lee raised his axe high, swinging it down into his brother's neck, again and again, until the blade penetrated flesh and bone. He leaned down, fumbling to retrieve the keys from the lifeless body.
The sound of groaning zombies grew louder as they were drawn to the commotion, abandoning their previous targets to focus on Lee. He sprinted back to the pharmacy just in time as Doug slammed the gate shut, securing it once more.
Lee hurried into the office, unlocking the door to the supply room. As he stepped inside, a blaring alarm erupted, piercing the air with a shrill warning. He quickly began stuffing supplies into a bag he had found, his heart racing.
Outside, the noise of the alarm attracted the attention of the nearby zombies, who began to pound hungrily against the door and windows, eager for the fresh scent of prey.
"Duck, c'mon, baby, time to go," Katjaa urged her son, her voice filled with urgency.
"I'm gonna get the truck pulled up 'round back!" Kenny shouted over the din.
"Do it quick! We need to get the hell outta here!" Micah insisted, his voice forceful, cutting through the chaos.
"I don't plan on dilly-dallying!" Kenny exclaimed, determination in his eyes.
Micah pointed at Katjaa. "You make sure to barricade the door after Kenny." He turned to Glenn. "You, Coolie, make sure to get people outta here."
"Okay," Glenn nodded, steeling himself for the task ahead.
"Doug, Hussy, Darkie—y'all make sure those rotters won't tear down our defense." Micah pulled out his gun, a smirk dancing on his lips. "And I'm gonna do some target practice." He turned and bolted outside.
Within moments, the sound of gunfire erupted, accompanied by Micah's laughter echoing through the alley as he expertly shot walkers in the head, each bullet finding its mark with deadly precision. One by one, the undead dropped like flies, their bodies collapsing to the ground as he reveled in the chaos around him.
Kenny, watching, couldn't help but feel a reluctant admiration for Micah's skills. Despite his arrogant demeanor and the fact that he was undoubtedly an asshole, Kenny had to admit that Micah was damn good with a gun. The way he moved, the way he shot—there was a rhythm to it, a lethal dance that Micah seemed to thrive on.
As Micah continued his onslaught, the thrill of the hunt ignited a fire within him, and he laughed, exhilarated by the chaos.