Joe woke early and slipped out of the tent, careful not to wake Amy or Andrea.
He dressed quickly and packed his gear into a duffel. Around him, others were already stirring, preparing for departure just as they'd agreed.
They should be on the road by 10 a.m., heading for the CDC.
With his bag zipped and slung over his shoulder, Joe walked to his ford focus and shoved it into the trunk.
Nearby, Rick and a few others were already standing by their vehicles, ready to go. Joe noticed Rick keeping his distance from Lori.
She hadn't stopped blaming him for Shane's death, grief twisting into resentment. Rick, in return, had no interest in mending things.
The end of the world had made his feelings for her irrelevant.
Joe made his way over to Carol, who was packing up her and Sophia's things. Sophia was still asleep. Without a word, Joe grabbed the heavier bags.
Carol gave him a look... cold, but not hostile. She hadn't forgiven him for Ed, but she didn't reject his help either.
They loaded everything into the RV quickly. With so many losses, the group had decided to conserve fuel.
Three cars, the moving truck and the RV would be enough. Daryl would ride ahead on his bike, scouting the road.
Joe made a few trips before heading over to the dying campfire, where Anna handed him a mug of coffee.
She looked tense, as if holding something back. Joe clocked her expression but didn't ask. Everyone had something they were carrying.
The camp was nearly packed. Elize stood with Carol and the remaining kids.
Just five left from the original seven. Joe's eyes lingered. He remembered the little girl he'd mercy-killed, the fear in her eyes.
That moment had carved itself into him. He shook the memory off and scanned the camp. Elize was talking with Carl, sneaking glances at Rick. She wasn't subtle.
Lori noticed too, standing apart, isolated. The others gave her space. Everyone knew Rick had become the default leader, and Lori had lost whatever sway she once had.
People had sympathized when they thought she and Shane had been an end of the world fling. But now they knew she'd been cheating on Rick before the world fell apart... no one wanted to be associated with her.
Joe checked the time and figured they were nearly ready. He returned to the tent and rustled the flap.
Inside, Amy and Andrea were curled up naked, still asleep, their faces soft and peaceful.
Joe smiled and knelt beside them, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads and gently shaking them awake.
Their eyes fluttered open, and they yawned in unison.
"Good morning," they said, smiling sleepily, wrapping their arms around him.
It didn't take long for the girls to get dressed. Jeans and T-shirts, just like he'd suggested for mobility.
Even in simple clothes, they looked incredible. Their curves filled out the fabric in ways that made Joe briefly consider dragging them back into the tent.
But he pushed the thought aside, he wasn't that selfish. The group had a timeline.
He grabbed their bags... larger than his own, naturally. Then carried them to the car, tossing them in beside his.
The girls walked with him to where the rest of the group had gathered.
Morales and Anna stood near their truck, their kids at their side. Morales was explaining that they were going to split off and look for family a few hours away.
Joe thought it was a reckless move. Two people with no real survival skills heading out alone with kids.
Rick tried to talk them out of it, but it was no use. Their minds were set.
Joe walked over to the moving truck, grabbed two pistols, a rifle, and boxes of ammo.
He returned just as the goodbyes were wrapping up. He handed Morales the weapons in a bag and shook his hand firmly.
"Good luck," he said.
Anna hugged him briefly, and Joe ruffled the kids' hair before stepping back.
The group stood in silence as the small family drove off, vanishing down the road out of the quarry.
No one said anything. They just moved.
Within minutes, the camp was empty, the caravan rolling out toward the CDC and whatever waited for them there.
A couple hours into the trip, they pulled off into a small town to stretch their legs.
So far, the road had been clear. No wreckage, no herds, no surprises.
...
They stopped in a quiet neighborhood.
Joe stepped out of the car first and immediately dropped a shambling walker with a single swing of his machete.
Glen and T-Dog stayed with the others by the vehicles while Joe, Daryl, and Rick approached a two-story house. Weapons drawn, they crept up the steps and bashed in the front door.
Inside, they moved quickly. A faint groan echoed from upstairs.
"I'll check it," Daryl muttered, already moving.
Joe swept the ground floor room by room. Rick took the basement. When the first floor was clear, Joe stepped outside and waved the others over.
The driveway filled with cars, people filing into the house one by one. Daryl came down with a bloody bolt in hand. Rick emerged from the basement, nodding.
"All clear?" Joe asked.
They nodded again. Soon, the house was full. People rotating through the bathroom, grateful for the simple comfort of a seat, even if the toilet didn't flush.
Joe dropped into a worn-out armchair, stretching out like royalty. In the kitchen, a few women rummaged for anything edible.
Amy perched in Joe's lap, chatting about nothing in particular. He listened, amused.
Andrea had gone out scavenging with Daryl, and Amy hadn't liked it one bit. Her protests were met with a firm "no" and a scolding. She'd sulked but eventually gave in.
As lunch cooked... canned sausages, beans, mushrooms. The smell drifted through the house.
A small fire had been lit in a metal sink near a window for ventilation. When it was done, Joe was handed a plate piled high.
Amy fed him bites, teasing him as she did. It was one of the few moments that actually felt normal.
But by the time everyone had finished eating, Andrea and Daryl still hadn't returned.
Joe stood, easing Amy off his lap. Rifle slung over his shoulder, he slipped out the door and jogged down the street.
Several houses had been broken into. He followed the trail until it abruptly stopped. The doors ahead were intact.
He dropped low and moved forward, crouched behind white picket fences.
A few walkers lay dead on the path, bolts still in their skulls... Daryl's handiwork. Joe retrieved the bolts and kept moving, now on full alert.
Around the corner, he saw them. Two dozen walkers crowding around a small house. Movement flickered inside.
Joe crept forward and took down a nearby walker with a silent stab to the skull. Dragging the body out of view, he sliced it open and smeared its guts over himself.
Reeking of death, Joe walked slowly into the pack. The walkers ignored him, fooled by the scent. One by one, he put a few down quietly as he made his way to the porch.
He tapped the front door. A couple walkers followed him up the steps, but he dispatched them quickly.
The door opened. Joe slipped inside, rifle up.
Inside, Daryl and Andrea were talking with a small group of teens, none older than seventeen.
They flinched at the sight of Joe, his body caked in blood and entrails. He lowered his weapon.
"All good?" he asked.
Andrea nodded. "We were scavenging when a herd came outta nowhere."
Joe handed Daryl his recovered bolts. "Figured as much. You don't leave your toys behind."
Daryl snorted. "Still playing dress-up, princess?"
Joe cracked a smile. "Twinkletoes."
The tension broke as the two chuckled. Andrea rolled her eyes.
"Okay, comedy hour's over. What's the plan to get out of here?"
Daryl pointed at Joe.
"No way," said the oldest teen, a girl named Mary.
Andrea crossed her arms. "Yeah, not walking back covered in walker guts."
Mary's tone shifted. "You said something about the CDC? Is there a cure?"
Andrea shrugged. "We're hoping. That's all we've got."
Mary glanced at the others, then back at Joe. "Can we come with you?"
Joe paused. The teens stared at him, waiting.
"We don't have room for all of you," he said. Their faces fell. Even Andrea looked disappointed.
Joe added, "But… we'll find another vehicle."
Relief swept through the room. The teens moved fast, gathering their things. But the walkers outside were still a problem.
"I'll lead them away," Joe said.
Andrea stepped toward him, but he was already out the door. A walker rounded the corner and met Joe's machete.
The teens watched through the window as he strolled into the horde like a ghost.
Walkers turned, growling, but didn't attack. Joe made his way five houses down and smashed a car window.
The alarm blared through the air. Like clockwork, the walkers turned and stumbled toward the noise.
Back at the house, Andrea and Daryl ushered the kids out. With the path clear, they slipped into the open and made their way back to their group.
Joe led the herd further down the block, drawing them away from the house and any possible return route.
They shuffled after him, groaning and slow, just dumb enough to follow the sound of a car alarm instead of noticing the human smell under the rot.
After a few more blocks, Joe smashed the window of another car. A rusted-out sedan.
The alarm howled to life, and the walkers turned again, drifting toward it like moths to flame.
Joe backed away, keeping to the edge of the road until he disappeared from their sight line.
Free and clear, he scanned the area. The search didn't take long. A navy blue minivan sat at the end of a cul-de-sac.
Dust-covered but intact. Joe peered inside, room for seven, decent condition. 'Perfect'
He popped the door open and slid inside. It took a couple tries, but he hotwired it in under a minute. The engine rumbled to life.
Joe took a long route around the neighborhood, careful to stay clear of the herd he'd left behind.
---
Back at the house, people were starting to get antsy. Andrea paced by the door. Amy watched the road like a hawk. Even Rick seemed tense.
Then T-Dog called out from the window. "We got a van!"
The navy blue minivan rolled up to the curb. Joe stepped out, still streaked with gore but carrying himself like a man who owned the place.
He swaggered across the lawn, up the porch steps. Glenn opened the door for him.
"Damn," Glenn muttered. "Showoff."
Joe gave a small nod, brushing past him. His eyes flicked to the new kids. Four girls, two boys, all looking worn but alert.
Survivors, whether they knew it or not.
Amy rushed him. She didn't care about the blood. She kissed him hard, biting his lip and clinging to him.
"I was worried!" she said, breathless.
Joe smiled, rubbing her cheek. "I know."
He tapped her nose gently. Amy blushed.
"Eww," Carl groaned from the corner. A couple of the new kids echoed him.
Rick gave them a look and the teasing stopped. He understood what had happened.
He understood what this meant. A rescue, a chance for these brave kids.
Bringing the teens along wasn't a mistake. Not in a world like this. They were the future.
---
With the house cleared and lunch behind them, the group began packing up everything they'd scavenged.
Supplies, clothes, salvageable tools were piled into the vehicles. The teens didn't sit idle.
They helped carry, sort, and organize. No hesitation. They wanted to prove themselves.
Joe didn't help.
He climbed the stairs and found the nearest bathroom. Stripping down, he wiped off the dried guts and grime with whatever was on hand.
A few wet rags, some toilet paper, even an old towel. It wasn't perfect, but it got the job done.
...
A knock on the door came soft and familiar. "I brought clothes," Andrea said through the wood.
Joe opened the door wide, Andrea gazing at his form. A stirring in her groin.
Before long, Joe was balls deep in her tight pussy, her jeans and panties on her ankles.
Leaning her over the sink as he fucked her from behind.
His left hand sinking into the soft flesh of her ass cheek. The other cheek jiggling with every thrust.
His other hand pulling back on her throat, a muffled, "Choke me... Daddy! Aghh."
Andrea came after a few thrusts, her legs going weak. She collapsed to the floor shaking.
Joe followed her, slipping right back in. Pressing her against the floor. Joe clamped his hand on her mouth to silence her moans.
However, it did little to quell the noise.
A couple minutes later, Joe felt a familiar feeling in his groin. Slamming in a couple more times, he came inside her.
Feeling one last spurt her flipped Andrea over a shot it into her panting mouth. She unconsciously licked the tip of his cock before swallowing.
Andrea looked like a hot mess, her face flush. Her body covered in a light sheen of sweat.
She lay there panting, for a couple minutes. His cum spilling from her pussy.
Eventually, getting up and wiping herself off.
...
Joe stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
A clean shirt. Jeans that fit. Boots that didn't squish when he walked. His face, rough with a scruffy short beard.
Behind him, Andrea tugged up her jeans, eyes catching his in the mirror for a moment. Her face flushing, remembering being dominated.
No words. Just a silent admiration.
She kissed his cheek softly.
They were still alive. For now.
---
The house was quiet as they made their way downstairs. The living room was empty, everyone already outside, prepping for departure.
Joe and Andrea stepped out the front door and walked toward their car.
Seconds later, the engine rumbled to life. The caravan followed suit, pulling away from the curb, tires crunching over gravel.
Next stop: The CDC.
Whatever was waiting there, good or bad.
They'd face it the same way they had everything else.
Ready to fight.