"Thanks to you, I'm still doing very well."
Shawn, holding the meat stew, nodded weakly.
"Oh, right." Shawn pointed to the fire truck behind him: "Have you settled the payment for the prey these past two days? If it's not enough, make up for it with other food. I brought back a lot of food."
As soon as Shawn said this, Maggie, Otis, and Jimmy, who were behind Hershel, exchanged glances.
The three of them quickly climbed into the truck and opened the water cover. The sight of a large amount of bottled drinking water and food piled inside made all three of them exclaim in surprise.
The Farm had stored a lot of harvested food, but they hadn't seen so much processed food in a long time.
"You brought all of this back from the town?"
Hershel looked at the large pile of food his daughter was holding, and heard that there was a lot more in the fire truck, so he couldn't help but ask Shawn.
Facing his question, Shawn only nodded, not mentioning the survivor Camp.
Simply put, Hershel didn't need to know.
Because upon careful analysis, Hershel and Rick were actually from the same faction, which is why Hershel got along with the Quarry Camp. It's just that Rick was more rational and bolder than him.
If Hershel knew about the destruction of an entire survivor Camp, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble.
And Shawn disliked trouble!
"Then this truck is…" Hershel frowned.
Shawn waved his hand: "Hershel, why are you as troublesome as an old man? I brought back a lot of alcohol. How about we have a party tonight?"
Shawn raised an eyebrow at Hershel, and Hershel's mouth fell open.
He was an old man anyway…
But looking at Shawn and Sophia, who was sitting obediently beside him, Hershel had many questions he wanted to ask him, so he just nodded and agreed.
Two hours later.
The bonfire's flames danced on everyone's faces, and they swayed their bodies in abandon.
Although there was no music, they were still wild, eagerly pouring the disposable plastic wine cups into their mouths.
This was a self-release, a long-suppressed madness since the apocalypse began.
Rather than saying they were dancing with each other, it was more like they were immersed in their own fantasy worlds, enjoying the peaceful beauty of the moment.
Thump--
Hershel swayed and plopped down onto the ground. Shawn was beside him, his hand on Hershel's shoulder, drunkenly saying to him.
"If you ask me… *hiccup*—you shouldn't have so many Walkers in the barn… *hiccup*—"
"They're just garbage, products of a virus, not… not your relatives anymore…"
"Tomorrow, you drag out that big harvester and juice them all. Trust me, it's the right thing to do!"
Hershel didn't seem to realize what Shawn was saying. He let out a drunken burp, his face flushed with alcohol and a silly smile.
"You're right… you're right!"
"Right?!"
Shawn's face immediately lit up with joy.
"You're… you're right!"
Hershel just kept repeating that one sentence. At this point, he was already completely disoriented.
Poor him, he wanted to trick Shawn into talking… but he was almost completely drunk and fooled into being a cripple by Shawn.
Among the crowd, only Sophia remained clear-headed.
She held her doll, clutching a drink cup, curiously watching these strange adults.
Her gaze lingered on Shawn's foolishly smiling face for a long time.
…
The next day.
"Damn it!"
A figure emerged from the tent.
Daryl gritted his teeth, clutching his head. A stinging pain constantly emanated from it.
"If I have one more party with Shawn, I'll break all my crossbow bolts!"
Listening to Daryl's harsh words, Merle squinted his eyes, reeking of alcohol, and waved his hand carelessly.
"Come on, in this area, who doesn't know your crossbow bolts are your lifeblood? Would you cut off your own lifeblood?"
As he spoke, Merle suddenly stopped, shivered, and regained his senses.
He stared intently at Daryl: "Wait, you… would you?"
"Get the hell out of here!"
Daryl cursed him angrily.
"Hehe, my mom is your mom."
Daryl's nose twisted in anger when he heard that. Using the lingering effects of the alcohol, he picked up his crossbow, ready to load it.
"Hey! Hey! Hey~~ come on, I'm your brother."
Merle's eyes widened, and he put his arm around Daryl's neck, afraid that this kid, with his current unclear mind, would do something foolish.
"Morning."
Andrea poked her head out of the tent, her messy blonde hair disheveled. Amy and Sophia followed closely behind her.
The three women looked as disheveled as 'three groundhogs' at this moment.
Hershel's family had been helped back to the wooden cabin last night. The few of them, now sober, exchanged smiles.
But then, as they looked around, they were a bit puzzled.
"Where did Shawn go?"
They opened Shawn's tent but found no one. Could it be that Shawn had just returned yesterday and left again today?
Merle yawned: "Won't we know if we ask Hershel later?"
But when they knocked on the wooden cabin's door, they found that even Hershel was gone.
Maggie, Otis, and the others were just like them, having just woken up from a hangover.
"Did you see where Shawn went?" Amy leaned close to Sophia's ear and asked.
"I only know that last night Shawn said he was going to take Hershel to fight Walkers."
Sophia held her doll and responded softly.
Fighting Walkers?
Taking Hershel?
Everyone looked at each other when they heard Sophia's words. Could Hershel, at his age, still wield a knife?
Everyone was discussing, but Maggie couldn't wait. She immediately got on her horse and rode towards the forest, afraid that the crazy man would do something crazy with her father.
After thinking for a moment, she told Merle to watch the Camp, and Daryl also took his crossbow and followed.
Meanwhile, Shawn, whom everyone was concerned about, woke up in the dark barn.
"Woah…"
Low growls emanating from throats woke Shawn.
Shawn opened his eyes, looked at the pitch-black ceiling, then closed his eyes again, turning over, intending to go back to sleep.
But just five seconds after closing his eyes, Shawn suddenly wide opened his eyes.
As far as Shawn's eyes could see, Walkers were wandering back and forth throughout the entire barn.
Looking around, there seemed to be 30 or 40 of them, comparable to the size of a small horde.
Shawn instinctively reached behind him. He didn't feel his Stone Hammer, but he felt an arm.
Startled—!
Shawn's heart leaped to his throat, but thankfully, the next second he secretly sighed in relief.
"It has body temperature, it's not a Walker."
Shawn turned his head and saw Hershel comfortably lying in the haystack beside him. At this moment, the two of them were on the second floor of the barn, which was why they hadn't been devoured by Walkers in their sleep.
Watching Hershel snore occasionally and pat his belly, Shawn sighed inwardly.
"Ignorance is bliss—",
But soon Shawn reacted: "Did I just insult myself?"
Never mind, forget it.
He slapped Hershel's face, startling the old man awake.
But the moment Hershel suddenly sat up and saw Shawn's face, he relaxed.
"What's the matter so early, Shawn…?"
Hershel was a bit slow to react. Shawn gave him another annoyed slap.
Seeing Hershel sit up, frowning as if to curse, Shawn put his index finger to his lips and pointed at the inside of the barn to Hershel.
Hershel was still a bit muddled. He leaned out to look and was instantly drenched in cold sweat.