The motorhome moved slowly down the street as Julie kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel, though the tension in her shoulders was obvious.
Through the wide windshield, the Matthews house was getting closer, and Jim was already waiting outside with a stern expression.
Beside him, Tabitha nervously rubbed her hands together, unable to hide her apprehension.
Ethan pointed ahead excitedly. "Look! Julie is driving!"
The irritation on Jim's face faltered for a moment. He remembered that Julie had asked him to teach her how to drive, but after Thomas's death, everything had fallen apart, and the request kept getting pushed back.
"Looks like what you were afraid of happened," Daniel remarked.
Julie let out a sigh without taking her eyes off the road.
Daniel, meanwhile, didn't seem particularly worried. This conversation was going to happen one way or another, and delaying the inevitable wouldn't make the issue disappear.
[Suggestion: speed up. Running over your father-in-law grants ten experience points for boldness.]
He ignored the comment and began instructing her. "Turn the wheel to the right and use the backup camera. It's easy. Just don't trust your sense of space too much, because it's still terrible."
Julie shot him a sideways glance but followed his instructions.
With small adjustments to the steering, alternating her attention between the mirrors and the dashboard monitor, she managed to position the vehicle.
The hiss of the air brakes echoed through the street when she finally engaged the parking mode, leaving the motorhome aligned beside her parents' house.
Daniel opened the door, and the three of them went inside.
"What's this I hear about you carrying a gun?" Jim asked, wasting no time on greetings.
"Hey, Ethan, do you want to watch some cartoons?" Daniel interrupted.
"I want to watch Adventure Time," the boy replied immediately, paying no attention to the tense atmosphere.
With Ethan distracted in front of the television, they could finally address the issue.
Julie kept her defensive posture but didn't back down. She repeated practically the same argument she had given Tabitha, reminding her father that she had already managed to save two people and didn't walk around town with the gun strapped to her waist as if she were looking for an opportunity to use it.
Like Tabitha, Jim wasn't convinced. To him, the issue wasn't simply whether Julie knew how to handle a gun, but the risk of allowing his daughter to carry something capable of turning a bad situation into a tragedy.
"We're not in a normal place," Daniel interjected. "Here, people can be worse than the monsters."
The memory of Ethan's kidnapping hung over the room without needing to be mentioned directly.
Jim tried arguing for a few more minutes until he realized that continuing to press the matter wasn't going to get him anywhere.
"Where do you keep the gun? I want to see it."
"It's in the bedroom," Julie said right away. "I'll get it."
She turned her back and disappeared down the narrow hallway. As soon as she was out of her parents' line of sight, she accessed the Inventory with a simple thought.
A few seconds later, she returned holding the pistol, keeping the barrel carefully pointed at the floor.
"It's safe, Dad," she explained, pointing to the small lever on the side. "Look, it has a safety. Daniel taught me all the proper handling procedures. I never carry it with the safety off."
Jim reluctantly took the gun and examined it, assessing its weight and mechanism with an obvious mixture of concern and displeasure.
"Guns themselves aren't dangerous," Daniel commented. "The person holding them is. And your daughter has a good head on her shoulders."
"Even so, I don't want you walking around with this," Jim declared, handing the pistol back to Julie. "Let's find this cave and get out of here as quickly as possible. You won't need to be in situations that require you to use this."
Julie gave a small nod. The concession cost her nothing. As soon as she was out of her father's sight, the pistol would go back into the Inventory and remain available to her, regardless of his opinion.
"You guys know of any caves?" Tabitha suddenly asked. "You're always out in the forest."
"No. I've never seen anything like that," Julie replied without hesitation.
The lie came as naturally as any truth she had ever told. She knew that if her parents discovered it later, the consequences would be serious, but she would rather deal with their anger than imagine them going into that place.
"I don't know anything either," Daniel added, keeping his expression impassive.
Neither of them hesitated, and that was enough to convince Jim and Tabitha.
Jim nodded, somewhat reassured, and the subject was dropped.
After taking a quick shower and filling a few water bottles in the kitchen, Jim and Tabitha gave them a few more reminders about the gun before saying goodbye.
As soon as they left, Julie let herself sink into the couch.
"That was exhausting."
Daniel sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
"You handled it well."
…
While making his way through town ringing the bell, Boyd learned that Randall would be moving into the bus and, after hearing what had happened at Colony House, agreed with Donna's decision.
The measure might have seemed harsh, but after the newcomer's behavior, the sheriff had no reason to contest it.
As he approached the sheriff's station, he found Father Khatri standing nearby, his hands buried in his pockets and his eyes fixed on the horizon, where the last light of day was beginning to fade.
Neither of them needed to ask what the other was doing there. They exchanged only a brief nod before going inside and heading toward the back.
Boyd walked to the door leading to the clearing behind the station. When he reached for the handle, he noticed a faint tremor in the fingers.
He clenched his fist for a moment, as if he could crush the weakness before it gained strength, then turned the cold metal handle.
The door opened, revealing the clearing and, beyond it, the dark expanse of the forest.
Khatri stayed near the entrance while Boyd took a few steps forward, moving away from the safety of the station.
Both of them knew what they were about to do, and neither needed to say aloud how dangerous it was.
For several minutes, nothing happened. Then the shadows between the trees began to move almost imperceptibly, until silhouettes slowly emerged from the darkness.
The creatures advanced with calm, calculated steps, forming, just as they had the last time Boyd faced them, a deliberate semicircle.
Their unnaturally wide smiles suggested they were enjoying the little display of courage.
Boyd kept walking, while Khatri remained by the door, holding his breath as he watched every movement.
When the creatures realized the sheriff wasn't carrying any bottles, they began closing the distance.
Smiley took the lead, accompanied by a female creature dressed in 1950s clothing. The two approached side by side, their sadistic smiles widening as they drew closer.
When Boyd judged they were close enough, he stopped.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a military grenade. His finger found the metal pin, gripped it firmly, and tore it free. The small metallic click sounded absurdly clear.
Boyd hurled the explosive directly at Smiley. The grenade struck the ground near the monster's feet, and the sheriff immediately threw himself backward, covering his head with his arms.
The explosion was deafening.
The shockwave tore through the night, sending dirt, chunks of grass, and a thick cloud of smoke billowing through the area.
The blast reverberated throughout the town, shattering the silence that had settled over the night.
In the house next door, Jim and Tabitha jumped.
Jim's first instinct was to pull his wife away from the window before he had even processed what was happening.
Once the initial shock passed, the two crept toward the opening and peered outside, almost certain the noise had come from the motorhome parked beside the house. The vehicle, however, remained exactly where it was, motionless and intact.
Only then did their eyes find the smoke farther away, in the direction of the sheriff's station.
Inside the motorhome, Daniel and Julie also rushed to one of the windows. She narrowed her eyes at the column of smoke rising in the distance.
"What was that?" she asked instinctively, not really expecting an answer.
"The sheriff. Probably using the grenade to try to kill one of those things," Daniel deduced, judging the direction of the blast.
Julie grimaced. "Too bad that doesn't actually work."
"It doesn't kill them, but it definitely sends a clear message."
Outside the sheriff's station, the dust still obscured the scene, but Khatri didn't wait for it to settle.
He had already prepared two Molotov cocktails and ran to Boyd's side, handing one to the sheriff, who had regained his footing while holding the lighter with trembling fingers.
The blast had disoriented the creatures and left some of them mangled. Boyd seized the opportunity, touching the flame to the alcohol-soaked cloth and igniting both cocktails before hurling them with all his strength toward the center of the group.
The bottles shattered upon hitting the monsters, splashing burning fuel over Smiley and the female creature.
The flames engulfed them in a fraction of a second, racing up their bodies with an almost unnatural violence. With their insides reduced to dried organs, they were consumed rapidly.
Neither of them screamed. They merely crackled and writhed beneath the heat, turning into living torches in the middle of the night.
The remaining creatures stopped.
For several seconds, they stood motionless, watching their companions being consumed by the flames.
Then, as if they had received some silent command or recognized the danger the fire posed, they began to retreat.
One after another, they disappeared between the trees until the forest swallowed them once more.
Boyd and Khatri remained by the door, watching the flames still devouring the two monsters.
The heat illuminated their faces, while the darkness beyond them suddenly seemed less threatening.
Khatri let out a shaky breath, as if only then realizing he had been holding it.
"We did it," he murmured, his hoarse voice filled with relief and disbelief. "It's the first time we've made them back off."
The sheriff didn't answer. His eyes remained fixed on the fire, and the tremors that had appeared moments earlier seemed to have vanished beneath the rush of adrenaline.
For the first time in a long while, a different expression crossed his face. It wasn't happiness. In that place, hope could be something far more dangerous.
Finally, things are starting to go right.
...
Randall was having a very different experience. Minutes before the explosion, he had been lying inside the bus, dozing off after spending the previous night awake.
A knock on the door jolted him from his sleep, and he got up irritated, still groggy and in no mood to deal with anyone else.
Just as he was about to open it, however, a chill ran down his spine. The sleepiness vanished as his thoughts finally cleared, and he realized who was standing on the other side.
"Hi. You comfortable in there?" An elderly woman with a smile on her face stared at him through the door.
Randall held her gaze, trying to recover the arrogance he used as a shield.
"You think you scare me? I'm not afraid of you."
Three more creatures appeared behind her, slowly moving closer.
"You can't get in here because of some fucking rock. That doesn't scare me," he continued, although his clenched fists betrayed exactly the opposite.
None of them answered. They simply stood in front of the bus, watching as Randall continued to curse, growing increasingly irritated by their silence.
"Say something, you pieces of shit."
A thunderous blast tore through the town without warning, making Randall jump backward. For a moment, his heart seemed to leap into his throat, and the shock drew a far more honest reaction from him than any provocation he had made up to that point.
========================================
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