Chapter 26: A Restless Night
"Do you already have a plan?" Rick suddenly asked in a low voice. He wasn't looking at Shawn, just staring quietly at the fire. The leaping flames burst into a fiery glow in his eyes; he seemed to already be thinking about the specific details of attacking the Prison.
"I have a target in mind. It hasn't been occupied by other survivors yet. Walkers roam in every corner inside it," Shawn said. "But fortunately, both the fences and the interior are still in good condition, just waiting for us to take over. As for the plan… I think we'll all know what to do when we get there, right?"
Shawn's gaze swept over them, and he saw a hint of a smile on everyone's faces as they almost subconsciously nodded.
Encounter a problem, solve the problem; this had always been the way of the Quarry Camp group. Nothing could stop them.
Only after seeing this did Shawn nod to himself in satisfaction. Even with the '7 Days to Die' system, it was impossible for him to do everything, to take care of every member of the team like a nanny. In other words—Shawn's arrival had not changed the fundamental nature of the apocalyptic environment. Those who were not suited for this world would sooner or later be eliminated by it. Such tragedies had happened far too many times in the world of the walking dead.
Every leader who had successfully established a survivor camp had an unknown history of sorrow and hardship behind them. They were always losing.
Was it because they weren't strong enough? Of course not. On the contrary, it was precisely because of their strength, and the strength of their camp, that they overlooked some inconspicuous yet extremely important things.
This was a mistake Shawn wanted to avoid. So, it was absolutely necessary for everyone in the camp to take on responsibility, for everyone to start growing and evolving. Compared to becoming stronger through loss, Shawn hoped that the camp members, represented by Rick, could forge an indestructible behemoth through 'protection'.
Therefore, pushing them forward step by step, letting them fight for themselves and for their companions—this was what Shawn had to do.
Ten years from this day, Shawn still hoped to be sitting by a bonfire at night, surrounded by these same people. And by then, they would be unstoppable.
For now, the bonfire was dying down, and sleepiness was gradually setting in. The informal campfire meeting was thus adjourned.
In twos and threes, people headed back to their tents. They had smiles on their faces, teasing and joking with each other, and the atmosphere suddenly became lively.
The word Prison would inadvertently come up in their conversations, and whenever it did, another hint of a smile would inevitably appear on their faces.
The future was full of promise. Just as Shawn had said, civilization was beginning to collapse, and everything was starting to move in the opposite direction. The Prison, a place people shuddered to mention before the apocalypse, had now become the spiritual pillar and belief that kept the camp going.
"Rick, Lori, you guys can sleep in my tent tonight. I'll make do in the car," Shawn said, stifling a yawn with one hand cupping the back of his neck. He hadn't slept well in the barn last night after drinking, and his muscles were still faintly sore.
"Thanks," Rick said, walking past Shawn with Lori and Carl. But after taking just two steps, Rick turned back and called out to him.
He stood still, looking at Shawn from the side, an undeniable sincerity in his eyes.
"Soldier, has anyone ever told you that you're actually a good person? Like in an animal pack, there's always one who's quiet but silently contributes to the whole group."
After dropping these two inexplicable sentences, Rick led his wife and child into the tent without looking back, leaving Shawn standing there, stunned.
"Haven't seen him for a few days, and all he knows how to say are these sentimental things. His brain must have been short-circuited," Shawn muttered, hugging his Stone Sledgehammer as he walked toward the fire truck.
But no one saw the corner of his mouth couldn't help but lift into a curious arc.
-----
'Knock, knock—'
Who knows how much time had passed.
Shawn was suddenly awakened by a knocking sound. He looked up through the truck window; the sky was still pitch black. He estimated that not much time should've passed. He reluctantly opened the back door of the fire truck and looked at the visitor.
"Jim, what is it?"
That's right, the visitor was Jim, the one who was supposed to have been bitten and died at the Quarry Camp. The tall, thin man with pale skin was now standing in the darkness, looking at Shawn with an expectant face.
"Sorry to bother you… I just wanted to ask, does the place you mentioned really exist?" He was very humble, which instantly dissipated most of the anger Shawn felt from being woken up.
As if worried Shawn would misunderstand, he quickly added, "I'm not saying you're lying. It's just that if you can confirm it for me, I'll be able to sleep well tonight…"
After speaking, Jim stared at Shawn without blinking, his anticipation almost overflowing.
Shawn yawned and said wearily, "Yeah, the place exists. It's real, somewhere to the south, not too far from here."
His tone was a bit perfunctory; he was too tired at the moment. But when his words reached Jim's ears, a flush of color quickly spread across his pale skin. He was as energized as if he had taken drugs.
"Thanks, Shawn! I hope you have a good dream tonight!"
Jim was now even more spirited. Shawn thought he saw him grab one of Hershel's axes and start chopping firewood to burn off his excess energy.
"Whatever, let him be," Shawn muttered. He couldn't be bothered. He was so tired right now, he could barely keep his eyes open.
Closing his eyes, Shawn lay back down.
Who knows how much time had passed.
'Knock, knock—'
Shawn's eyes snapped open. The sky was still dark.
"Damn it, not again…"
Shawn shot up, his mouth ready to fire off a curse, but in the next second, he saw a pair of star-like eyes and vaguely swallowed the words back down.
"…it's another kind and lovely little girl… Beth, do you need something?"
Shawn was clearly showing favoritism. The tone he used with Jim versus the one he used with Beth made one wonder if the Shawn before them had been possessed again. The difference was huge!
Beth gently stepped onto the running board of the fire truck, a smile revealing a row of pearly white teeth. Her beautiful blonde hair rested on her shoulders. Tonight, she seemed more delightful to look at than the stars.
"My father asked me to bring you a blanket. The temperature on the farm drops quickly at night." Beth's voice was like a little oriole singing. She held a folded blanket in both hands and offered it to Shawn.
"Oh, I'm tough, I'm not afraid of the cold. Besides, how could I possibly accept this?"
Shawn took the blanket.
******
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