Papers shifted as I spread out Glenn's marked map, tapping three marked locations. "Here, here, and here—these are the dealerships we'll be going for. We need to bring at least five trucks, six to be certain."
Rick crossed his arms. "We're taking all six at once?"
"No," I said, voice leveled. "We're not bringing back all six at once; that's suicide."
Rick blinked, tension easing slightly. "So what's the plan?"
I tapped the three dealership markers Glenn had drawn. "We retrieve two per day maximum. Slow and clean, minimal noise, no unnecessary risks."
Morgan nodded slowly. "Alright."
Daryl grunted in agreement. "We ain't wrangling a damn parade through Atlanta."
"Right," I said. "Plan is simple: two trucks a day. Quiet, efficient, controlled."
Hershel leaned forward. "Who's going?"
"Me, Rick, and Jim."
Rick nodded. "Makes sense. We can't take more and leave the camp defenseless."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck, nervous but trying to keep steady. "My part's figuring out which ones still breathe. Some'll turn over, some won't even try, some just need a new battery." His voice steadied. "If it's dead-dead, we leave it. I'll mark 'em exactly."
I pointed out, "Me and Rick, we two clear walkers around the perimeter. Keep anything from sneaking up on Jim while he checks the engine compartments, fuel tanks, axles, tires… everything. The moment he green-lights the trucks, we take them. That's it for the day."
Rick leaned back, thinking it over. "Two at a time gives us breathing room and doesn't put all of us on the road longer than necessary."
"Good, because when we secure these two trucks, I'm breaking off from you both."
Everyone looked up. Rick's brow pulled together. "Breaking off? For what?"
I shrugged casually. "No point wasting a trip to Atlanta. I'm going scavenging nearby, grab what I can, whatever's intact. Make the run worthwhile."
Hershel observed me carefully but didn't question it. "As long as you stay on radio contact, son."
"I will," I assured.
Daryl crossed his arms. "We ain't gonna need to drag your ass out of a hole, are we?"
"No," I said simply. "I'll be fine."
But internally, my plans were different. I needed time alone with the dead rigs—the ones Jim will mark as unsalvageable. Engines, starters, radiators, drum brakes, alternators, wheels, hell even windshields—everything that will be impossible to acquire later. I'd stash them quietly into my inventory without anyone knowing. Later, if a truck failed, he'd "just happen" to find the part they needed, but now no one could know.
Glenn cleared his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. "And… the fuel? The depots I checked are crawling. Way too many walkers to siphon anything safely."
"We siphon what we can," Rick said, thinking aloud. "Construction yards, fuel stops, maybe a few semis on the road."
"Exactly," I said. "We adapt to what we find."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "How long's this gonna take, you think?"
I replied, "Depends on the walker density. Could take a week, could take longer. We go until we get what we need."
Daryl scratched his chin. "Long as we come back alive, don't matter."
They were faint smiles—tired, nervous, but real.
"When do we start?" Rick asked.
"Tomorrow. I'll go gather what we need: empty drums, siphons, reinforced carts, long hoses, welding kits, tow cables, spare batteries. The works. Then after tomorrow, we begin. I'll hit Home Depots in Atlanta. Atlanta's full of them—corporate birthplace and all—that means almost every district is guaranteed to have a store."
Everyone nodded in approval, clearly on board with the plan. I then shifted gears. "Alright, before we adjourn—tomorrow morning everyone will return to labor rotations. Clearing the fields comes first, herd management comes second. These cattle need proper fencing, feeding routines, and basic tagging. T-Dog and Otis, you two will coordinate with Hershel about the new fences for the cattle."
They nodded.
"Patricia, assist Annette with the livestock until the greenhouse goes live."
Maggie straightened. "What about me?"
"You'll help your father with the farmland layout." Maggie nodded once—determined, focused, sane. "Shane," I called out, "you are to coordinate with Dale and the rest to look after the place after we head out. Perimeter checks and all the works. Can't have anything unexpected happen while we're out."
He looked at me in surprise, clearly not expecting that, then straightened up. "Leave it to me."
I nodded once. I folded the map, eyes sharp. A heavy silence filled the room. "Meeting adjourned," I finally said.
Everyone started to clock out for the day, exhaustion clear on their faces. Maggie stayed back for a bit. "Take care of yourself out there," she said softly before heading out.
My expression softened. "I will, don't worry."
Ghost brushed by my leg, letting out a bark. I crouched down to give him a neck rub. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day, buddy. I just hope everything goes smoothly."
I stood up again and went to rest.
The next morning came in a flash. The group assembled outside with tools slung over their shoulders: axes, spades, hoes, etc. Hershel was already in the field giving directions.
"I'm heading out," I announced, slipping my rifle strap into place.
"You sure you wanna do this alone?" Rick asked, his brow furrowed.
"Yeah, I move faster solo," I said. "Besides, tomorrow's the real operation. I need all of you to be well-rested for that."
Rick hesitated for a bit but relented nonetheless. I climbed into the box truck and rolled out, leaving a trail of dust behind.
(To be continued...)