Leaving a trail of blood behind him, the one-armed man cried as he dragged his broken body across the tunnel floor. Ignoring the agony tearing through him, he crawled faster, desperate to escape the footsteps approaching from behind.
"Save… me…"
The plea came from a burned man nearby. His voice was raspy and weak, his skin peeling off his body. Horrified, the one-armed man crawled even faster. The man's cries gradually faded until they disappeared entirely, but the footsteps behind him only grew louder with each passing second.
He forced himself onward.
Even as his fingernails tore away and his hands became bloody stumps, he kept crawling.
"Please…"
His breath hitched.
"Just get away…"
Then a voice spoke directly behind him.
"You know, a snail is much faster than you."
The one-armed man froze.
The moment he heard that voice, the last of his strength vanished. Tears streamed down his face as he collapsed onto the blood-soaked concrete. He was so terrified he couldn't bring himself to look back.
"Please… just kill me," he begged.
For the first time in a long while, death felt less frightening than the thing standing behind him.
Maggie and the others stared at the man begging for death. Her stomach twisted at the pitiful sight before them.
Carol reached for her gun, intending to end his suffering, but a single look from Max stopped her.
"End this quickly and be done with it," Daryl said, a hint of disdain in his voice.
He didn't like the way Max seemed to be inflicting unnecessary suffering.
Does this kid enjoy this kind of crap?
From what Daryl had seen, Max could have killed every one of them in seconds if he wanted to. Instead, he had chosen not to.
If Max is the kind of person who enjoys making others suffer, then I don't want anything to do with him.
Judging by Maggie and Carol's expressions, they were thinking the same thing. They watched the scene with open disgust.
The only person who showed no sign of discomfort was the priest.
He continued writing in his notebook as if nothing unusual was happening.
"Answer my question, and I'll give you death."
Max looked down at the man without a trace of emotion on his face.
The man nodded frantically, still not daring to turn around.
"Why are you wearing clothes covered in shit?"
It was the question everyone wanted answered.
They waited patiently.
"Protection," the man answered through gritted teeth. "Biters don't notice us. We cover ourselves in this and biter blood."
He struggled to get the words out.
Maggie and the others were stunned by what they heard. Even Max, who had remained the calmest among them, looked interested.
Rick had once tried something similar. Covering themselves in walker blood and guts had worked for a small group, but once too many walkers gathered, the disguise failed. They abandoned the idea soon afterward.
Now, hearing about another method of hiding from walkers felt like discovering gold.
"How many biters could you fool?"
The question didn't come from Max.
It came from Daryl.
His eyes were fixed on the wounded man, eagerly waiting for the answer.
"About… a hundred."
The man spoke so quietly they almost missed it. Hearing such valuable information, everyone was intrigued.
Even the priest, who had remained indifferent the entire time, finally looked up from his notebook.
"Kill… me."
The plea came out as little more than a whisper.
Max ignored him and knelt down, preparing to ask more questions.
"BANG!"
Max turned his head toward Carol.
She had fired her gun.
The wounded man collapsed, dead on the ground.
"Why did you do that?" Max asked calmly.
Carol met his gaze without flinching.
"He answered our question. The deal is done."
Her voice was steady and without hesitation.
Max slowly rose to his feet, towering over her, his eyes never leaving hers.
Sensing the tension, Daryl and Maggie moved closer to Carol, positioning themselves between her and Max.
The tunnel fell silent.
"Mercy… sympathy and pity."
Max looked at the three of them and shook his head.
He turned and walked toward the chain of cars blocking the path, everyone following his steps.
"In the cold winter night, a farmer went outside to get some wood. On the way, he found a snake freezing to death."
Max grabbed a car and threw it across the tunnel. Everyone stared.
"The farmer felt sympathy, mercy, and pity. He put the snake inside his clothes, close to his heart."
Max stopped and looked at them.
"On the way, the snake woke up from the warmth of the farmer... and bit him right in the heart. The farmer died."
The three of them exchanged glances.
Max walked to a bus sitting at the side of the tunnel.
"Who deserved to die? That was what my grandfather asked when he finished the story. And I will ask you the same."
"I don't know," Daryl answered. "But nobody deserves to die suffering."
Carol was deep in thought. Maggie, too, couldn't answer.
Max didn't respond. Instead, he pushed the bus aside, revealing a hole in the wall.
Seeing the opening, everyone froze.
Inside were seven naked women in a small cage, their legs bent unnaturally, their faces barely recognizable.
As soon as they saw the group, they tried to speak, but only weak, broken sounds came out.
"Die!"
From the dark corner, a young man lunged at Max with a knife.
"Watch out!" Daryl shouted.
Without thinking, Carol ran toward Max, raising her gun.
Before the knife could reach him, Max dodged and slammed the attacker's head into the wall. Blood splattered as the man fell.
At that moment, all seven women began clapping through tears.
"Max, are you alright?" Carol asked, scanning him for injuries.
"There are supplies here. Take them," Max said, pointing at food, weapons, and medicine.
Maggie looked at the medicine but frowned when she saw there wasn't much. Her gaze shifted to the women in the cage.
"Hey, let me free you. Don't be afraid. We're not going to hurt you."
She ran over to the lock, but it wouldn't open.
Daryl watched silently, anger in his eyes, gripping his crossbow tightly.
Carol approached the women carefully.
"Hi, my name is Carol. Don't worry, we won't hurt you. We have a camp nearby. I can take you there... you'll be safe. If you don't want to come, we can take you anywhere you like."
No one responded.
"They can't talk," Daryl said grimly.
Carol realized the truth... none of them had tongues.
"How heartless can people be?" she whispered, tears forming.
Maggie struck the lock with a rock, but it barely budged.
Max walked over, grabbed the cage door, and ripped it off its hinges.
"You can come out. Everyone who hurt you is dead. You are safe," he said calmly.
But none of them moved.
Finally, a pregnant woman crawled out. The others slowly followed.
Max sat down and looked at them.
"Priest." He held out his hand, and the priest handed him his notebook.
"If there is anything you want me to do, write it down. I will do my best to fulfill it."
He passed the notebook to the women. They began writing through tears.
Maggie and the others watched, filled with anger toward the people who had done this. Even the priest looked unsettled, quietly praying.
After a while, they returned the notebook. Max read it carefully.
All of the women had the same wish: death.
He looked at the pregnant woman. She had one additional request.
"I will do my best to find your daughter. And when I do, I'll keep her safe. Don't worry."
The pregnant woman gave Max a faint smile.
Max reread the notebook in his hand. Then he looked at each woman individually.
They all gave him a small nod and a final smile.
Max took a deep breath and stood up. As he drew his sword, his hand hesitated for a brief moment.
Then, in one swift motion, he beheaded them all.
They died before their bodies hit the ground.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Daryl grabbed Max and slammed him against the wall.
Maggie and Carol stared in horror.
"Answer me, Max!" Daryl shouted.
Before the priest could intervene, Max signaled him to stop. Then he looked at them.
"They all wanted freedom… they all wanted death."
He handed the notebook to Daryl as he walked away.