Joe's group piled out of the SUV, nerves thick in the air.
It had been over a year since many of the Alexandrians had joined Alexandria. And for some of them, this was their first real run.
Joe adjusted his katana across his back and scanned their faces. "Calm down. This is no different from your drills. And you've got me with you."
They nodded hesitantly. "Alright."
"Let's move."
They crossed the lot. Ken snipped the chain-link with bolt cutters, the steel whining as it gave way. Joe slipped through first.
"Remember," he said, keeping his voice low but steady, "we're here for packing foam and the inverters. That's our priority."
The group nodded. Tam spoke up nervously, "What's the foam for again?"
Joe didn't slow. "Napalm. We're gonna burn out a quarry full of walkers."
The answer settled uneasily over them.
Movement stirred ahead. A lone walker stumbled out from the shadow of the factory.
The rookies shifted nervously. Joe raised a hand. "Relax... Nia, this one's yours."
Nia froze. "I… I can't."
"You can," Joe said flatly. "Breathe. Wait for the head, then swing."
Nia swallowed hard and the stepped forward. The walker lurched toward her, rotten arms reaching. She waited until it was close enough, then swung her hatchet.
Crunch.
The blade sank deep into its skull. The walker collapsed, dragging Nia down as the hatchet stuck.
She let out a yelp, landing atop the corpse.
Joe strode over, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up. "Good job. Next time, rip it free after the hit."
She nodded, shaky but alive.
The group swept the perimeter, clearing stragglers. Tam and Ken each got their first kills, clean enough.
No close calls. With the lot secured and exits mapped, Joe led them to the loading bay.
One of the overhead doors hung half-open.
Joe's voice dropped. "Door's open. Expect company inside."
They nodded, flashlights snapping on as they crept through the gloom.
The storage space smelled of mold and oil. Rows of shelving loomed ahead, shadows stretching long.
Through the bay and into a narrow corridor, they moved in formation.
Suddenly, a blur burst from the side. A walker slammed into Tam, snarling.
Joe was on it in an instant, katana piercing through its skull. He shoved it off, already moving again. "Stay sharp."
Ken clapped Tam's shoulder, and they pressed deeper into the shelves.
They started checking labels as they went, beams of light cutting across dust-caked boxes.
Nia's light landed on a box, "INVERTERS."
Her heart kicked. She slit the tape, peeked inside. It was exactly what they needed. "Guys! I..."
Her voice drew a groan.
A walker hurled itself against the chain-link partition beside her. The crash echoed, metal rattling.
Nia shrieked and stumbled back.
Ken dropped to her side. "You okay?"
Joe stepped past them without a flicker. The walkers pressed against the fence. They were trapped in another part of the warehouse.
Their ugly mugs snarling at them fiercely. His blade struck out, fast and precise. One, two, three stabs, silence.
He turned, eyes on Nia. "Good find."
She exhaled and lifted the box, steadying herself.
Joe grabbed a larger crate, pried it open, and yanked out the heavy electronics inside. They clattered to the floor.
"Ken, Tam," he ordered, "find a couple more this size. Dump 'em. We'll fill them with packing peanuts."
They nodded and moved.
Nia asked, voice still shaky, "What about me?"
Joe's answer was clipped. "Watch their backs."
She swallowed and raised her hatchet, trailing close behind the men as they disappeared deeper into the aisles.
...
Rick's group rolled to a stop in front of a pale-blue house.
Glenn had told him Spencer had "cleared" the neighborhood already, but Rick doubted Spencer would've thought to take glue, paint, or cleaning supplies.
He glanced at his nervous crew.
Liam's leg bounced, Bella twisted her hands together, Tom's knuckles whitened around his knife.
Rick spoke up, voice firm but calm. "I get it. You're nervous. But you need this. You've been safe behind walls for too long. Now it's time to see what's left of the world… and learn to overcome it."
The words steadied them. Their breathing evened, their shoulders squared.
They climbed out of the vehicle, Rick leading them up the walkway.
One kick and the front door swung inward. The silence broke with faint groans drifting from upstairs.
Rick froze, listening. Then he shook his head.
Liam whispered, "What is it?"
Rick said, "Nothing much. Just… I was told this neighborhood was cleared."
Bella's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean it wasn't?"
Tom panicked. "Then there's walkers all over the place, right?"
"Calm down," Rick said firmly. His gaze pinned Tom until the younger man steadied. "This just makes your practice more real. Follow me."
They hesitated, then filed in behind him.
In the living room, Rick smashed a glass table with his boot. The sharp crack echoed through the house. Groans answered from above.
Rick said, "Two upstairs. Locked in. Safe enough for now."
Liam asked, "How can you tell?"
Rick explained, "When you clear a house, you make noise. Draw them out. Better to face them in the open than have one sneak up on you while your head's in a cupboard."
Bella frowned. "But isn't that risky?"
"Riskier not to," Rick said flatly.
They nodded.
Upstairs, Rick showed them how to position on the hinge-side of a door, use the panel as cover, and strike clean.
Tom was first. His blade drove through the skull of a walker. The body dropped instantly. Tom staggered back, eyes wide.
Rick patted his shoulder. "Good. That's how it's done."
With the groans gone, he turned to the others. "Alright. No more training kills. Split up, keep aware. We're here for supplies, garages are best. If you see something useful, grab it."
They nodded and scattered. Rick headed downstairs, through a side door into the garage.
He cleared it quickly, then froze at the sight before him. The entire bottom shelf was lined with paint cans.
Jackpot.
He nodded to himself, lifted the door by hand, and jogged back to the truck.
The engine rumbled to life. Suddenly the front door burst open.
Liam, Bella, and Tom spilled out, faces pale.
"Wait! Don't leave!"
Rick lowered the window, frowning. "I'm just pulling the truck to the garage."
They froze, embarrassment flooding their faces.
Rick's voice softened. "You think I'd leave you? I don't leave people behind."
Bella's eyes brimmed. "We thought we disappointed you. That you gave up on us."
Rick shook his head. "No. You did fine."
They nodded, chastened.
"Now," Rick said, "did you finish clearing the house?"
They held up their packs, full. Rick's mouth ticked into a smile. "Good. Help me with the paint."
Together they hauled can after can, stacking them in the truck bed. They also grabbed some camping gear and cleaning supplies from the shelves as well.
At the next house, Rick changed tactics. "This time, you three clear it yourselves. I'll take the garage."
Nerves flickered again, but they nodded.
Rick slipped into the garage, swept it clear, and started loading. After a while, he returned inside.
The three came down the stairs, triumphant and flushed with adrenaline.
Rick gave a short nod. "That's how you learn. House by house. Mistake by mistake. And you're still standing."
They searched the ground floor together, then headed back out to the truck.
For the first time, his recruits didn't look like sheltered Alexandrians. They looked like survivors in training.
...
The truck rolled to a stop outside a brick two-story. Rick cut the engine and looked at his three recruits.
"You cleared one house together. You cleared one without me. Now you're going to do this one too… but you won't get to lean on luck."
Liam swallowed. Bella nodded nervously. Tom tried to grin, but it looked more like a grimace.
"Stay sharp," Rick said. "I'll check the garage."
They nodded and moved to the front door. Rick peeled off toward the side, slipping into the garage.
Inside, the recruits pushed into the house. Dust and silence pressed heavy around them.
Bella's hands trembled around her knife. Liam whispered, "Clear left." Tom whispered back, "Clear right." They were trying to remember Rick's drills.
Upstairs, a door creaked.
Liam froze. "You hear that..."
The walker was on him before he could finish. It burst from a bedroom, slamming him against the wall, teeth snapping inches from his throat.
Liam screamed, shoving back with all his strength, barely holding it off.
Tom panicked, rooted in place. "I.. I can't..."
Bella acted. She screamed and drove her knife into the walker's skull, shoving with all her weight until it crumpled.
She staggered back, gasping, the corpse at her feet.
Liam slid down the wall, pale and shaking. "I… I almost."
"You didn't," Bella snapped, her voice shaking as much as her hands. "Because I ended it."
Tom stared, eyes wide. He whispered, "I froze…"
Bella's voice cracked. "Next time, don't."
Rick's voice cut across the hall, calm and cold. He stood in the doorway, having come in quiet. "That's what I wanted you to see. Walkers don't wait. They don't care if you're scared. Either you move, or you die."
The recruits turned to him, ashamed, shaken.
Rick stepped closer, his eyes hard but steady. "You three aren't soldiers yet. But you're learning. And that's the only reason you're still alive."
He let the silence sit. Then he jerked his chin toward the stairs. "Now finish clearing the house. Don't make me do it for you."
They nodded, steel settling into their faces. Bella led the way this time, Liam and Tom behind her.
Rick watched them go, his hand resting on the grip of his revolver... just in case.
...
The SUV crunched down the dirt road toward the farm. Darnell leaned forward from the back seat.
"I knew the family that lived here. They had a gasoline tanker, full setup. Farm had its own pump, I guess it was cheaper to buy in bulk."
Kenny's eyes lit. "Gas on tap? Hell yes."
Sure enough, when they rolled up, the tanker was still parked by the barn. But so were thirty walkers, staggering out from behind the farmhouse.
Pam gripped her knife. "What do we do?"
Kenny chuckled. "What do we do? We take 'em. Thirty's nothing. Follow me."
He hopped out and started down the path.
Silence behind him. He stopped, turned. Darnell, Pam, and Milly still hovered by the SUV, frozen.
"You coming?" Kenny called.
Pam crossed her arms. "Not until we talk about this. No plan? No way."
Kenny smirked. "My bad. Forgot you're newbies."
Darnell frowned. "I find that offensive."
Kenny shot back without missing a beat. "I find it offensive your name's Darnell and you're not black. Get over it."
Darnell froze. Pam snorted. "You walked right into that one."
Kenny clapped his hands. "Focus, people. We walk up, stand behind that wooden fence, and pick 'em off with melee. If the fence breaks? We fall back to the car and lure 'em off the farm."
The newbies exchanged nervous looks, then nodded.
At the fence, Kenny banged his crowbar on the wood, drawing the herd. "Spread out. Don't let 'em bunch up in one spot."
Ten feet apart, the group formed a line. Walkers pressed against the fence, jaws snapping. Kenny stabbed clean through skulls, one after another.
The others hesitated, then copied him. Stabs and slashes turned hesitant, then confident.
The fence held. Within minutes, most of the herd was down.
Only a handful lingered by the house. Kenny vaulted the fence, the others scrambling after. Shoulder to shoulder, they crept up and cut the stragglers down.
When silence fell, Pam blew out a breath. "We did it."
"Damn right," Kenny said. He clapped Darnell on the back. "Go check the tanker. See if she still runs."
Darnell jogged off.
Kenny turned to Pam and Milly. "We're checking the house. Too many walkers were clustered there for it to be empty."
Pam hesitated. "And if there are people?"
"If they're friendly, they come with us," Kenny said simply. His eyes hardened. "If not, I'll handle it."
Milly swallowed, but followed him to the porch.
He knocked. Minutes passed. The door creaked open. A teenage boy stood there, bat in hand, eyes wide.
"What do you want?"
Kenny ignored the question. "How many of you are there?"
The boy's grip tightened. "We don't want no trouble."
Milly stepped forward, voice gentle. "Neither do we. I'm Milly. We're just trying to make sure no one gets hurt."
The boy studied her, then nodded. "I'm Harry. It's me, my mom, and my little brother."
"Nice to meet you, Harry," Milly said warmly. "We're with a bigger group. Would you be interested in joining us?"
Harry's answer was quick. "Yes. But my mom... she can't walk right now."
"That's fine," Kenny said. "I'll carry her."
Inside, a woman lay in bed, leg splinted with a metal bar. A small boy played with a toy car at the foot of the bed.
The woman's eyes snapped to them. "Harry, who are these people?"
Harry said, "They killed the monsters. They have a group. They asked if we'd join."
The woman nodded slowly. "I'm Shanon. This is Billy."
Kenny offered a rough smile, shaking her hand. "Kenny. Anything you need before we go?"
"Just a bag of clothes," Shanon said.
"Pam, grab it," Kenny ordered. He bent and scooped Shanon up with ease.
On the porch, he set her in a wooden chair. "I'll bring the car around."
As he jogged to their car, headlights flashed behind him. The tanker's engine rumbled to life under Darnell's hands.
Back at the house, Pam and Milly sat with Shanon.
Milly smiled softly. "We've got a good doctor. He can check your leg, make sure it's healing right."
Shanon's eyes brightened. "That would be wonderful."
Billy beamed. "Then Mommy can play with me again!"
Harry smiled faintly. "That's right."
...
The group moved in silence, boxes in their arms. The inverters and foam peanuts were secured, stacked neatly in crates.
Joe gave a sharp nod toward the loading bay. "Let's move."
They slipped back through the dark corridors, boots crunching on grit.
Outside, the yard was still, the wind carrying only the faint rattle of loose tin.
Then...
Whistle.
The sound cut across the air, low and mocking.
Nia froze. "What was..."
Figures stepped out from behind rusted trucks and broken pallets.
A dozen men, grinning, blades and pipes in their hands. Each one bore the mark, a crude W carved into their foreheads.
The Wolves.
"Fresh meat," one of them crooned.
Tam swore under his breath. Ken's grip tightened on his hatchet. Nia's hands shook around hers.
Joe set his box down slowly, straightened, and met the Wolves' eyes. His tone was flat, almost bored. "You picked the wrong day."
The first Wolf lunged. Joe moved like lightning... a sidestep, katana flashing, a clean slice through the throat.
Blood sprayed as the man dropped. Gurgling as he held his throat.
"Shit!" another Wolf shouted. They rushed him all at once.
Joe flowed between them, calm, efficient. Steel arced. A machete arm severed. A skull split open. A throat stabbed clean through.
His group scattered, panic breaking their formation. Tam swung wide, sloppy, nearly clipped Ken.
Nia cried out, slashing wildly as a Wolf's blade scraped across her arm. Blood welled, her scream splitting the air.
"Joe!" Ken shouted, frozen.
Joe didn't even look back. He rammed his shoulder into a Wolf's gut, drove his knife into the man's temple, and yanked it free in one motion. "Focus!" he barked.
Another came at him with a crowbar. Joe caught the swing on his forearm, ignoring the sting.
Then shoved his katana straight through the man's chest, then kicked the corpse off the blade and turned smoothly.
Cutting down the next wolf.
The ground slicked red as he carved his way through them. One, two, three more fell.
Ten bodies in total lay scattered by the time he stopped, blood dripping from his blade.
Behind him, Nia staggered, clutching her cut arm. Two Wolves remained, grinning as they closed on her.
Ken's face twisted. "No."
Tam bared his teeth. "Not her."
The fear that had chained them broke. They lunged, roaring.
Ken's hatchet buried deep in a Wolf's skull. Tam drove his knife into the other's chest again and again until the man stopped moving.
Silence fell. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of Joe's group and the drip of blood onto concrete.
Joe lowered his sword, calm as ever. He glanced back at the bodies, then at his people. "That's the difference," he said evenly. "Walkers stumble around stupidly. People think and calculate each move. They cut back, aiming to end you quickly."
Nia trembled, pressing her hand to her wound. Ken and Tam stood beside her, bloodied but alive.
Joe wiped his blade on a dead man's shirt and sheathed it. "And now you know. Our lesson's over. Let's go home."