Chapter 125: The Black Priest
The wind at Savannah's port was cooler than it had been a few days earlier.
White waves rolled across the sea, and the seagulls had stopped flying. Instead, they perched on the wooden pilings along the pier with their heads tucked beneath their wings.
Clementine stood on the dock, watching as a pickup truck was driven out of the garage.
It had been fully prepared for the journey.
New tires.
A full tank of gas.
Two crates of bottled water.
A large bag of bread secured in the truck bed.
Lee emerged from Andrea's office holding a small slip of paper.
An address was written on it in neat, elegant handwriting.
Andrea's address.
"Her father's name is William Carver," Lee said as he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.
"He lives in a small town about twenty miles south of the Georgia–Florida border."
Clementine looked up at him.
"Do you think we'll find him?"
Lee was silent for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"We'll do our best."
Andrea stepped out of the office and stopped in the doorway, watching them.
In her hand were two vaccine vials.
The liquid inside shimmered with a faint cyan glow beneath the sunlight.
She walked over and handed them to Lee.
"Developed by the Umbrella Corporation."
She held up one of the vials.
"If you're bitten after taking this, you won't be infected. Even if you die, you won't turn."
Lee stared at the pale liquid.
His grip tightened slightly around the glass.
"This is far too valuable."
Andrea shook her head.
"You're the ones traveling out there."
Her expression softened.
"It's more dangerous for you than it is for us. Think of it as insurance."
Clementine immediately rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm.
The skin looked thin and fragile.
Andrea knelt beside her.
She disinfected the injection site, inserted the needle, pressed the plunger, and withdrew it in one smooth motion.
Her movements were quick and gentle.
Clementine bit her lip but didn't make a sound.
Andrea stood and prepared the second injection.
A moment later, Lee lowered his sleeve and glanced at the tiny puncture mark on his arm.
"I don't know how to thank you."
Andrea smiled.
"When you find this little one's parents, come back and join us."
She shrugged lightly.
"That'll be thanks enough."
Lee met her gaze and nodded.
"Whether we find them or not, we'll come back."
He opened the passenger door and lifted Clementine into the truck.
Then he walked around to the driver's side and climbed in.
The engine rumbled to life.
Slowly, the pickup rolled away from the dock.
Clementine leaned out the window and waved enthusiastically.
Andrea waved back.
The truck turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
Andrea remained standing on the pier for a long moment, staring at the empty road.
Only after it was completely gone did she turn around and return to her office.
The door closed quietly behind her.
---
On the interstate highway near the Georgia–Florida border, several bulldozers were hard at work.
Massive steel buckets pushed abandoned vehicles off the roadway, piling them into crooked walls of twisted metal along the shoulder.
Merle sat on the door frame of a Humvee with a piece of foxtail grass hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Squinting beneath the afternoon sun, he watched a bulldozer shove the final sedan off the highway.
The car rolled twice before crashing into a drainage ditch.
Its windows shattered.
Its doors tore loose.
Its wheels spun helplessly toward the sky.
Merle yawned.
Life had become boring lately.
Back in Georgia, millions of Walkers had roamed the land.
He had fired so many rounds every day that his rifle barrel practically glowed from the heat.
Now?
There were only a few scattered Walkers left.
Not nearly enough to satisfy him.
A rustling sound came from the distant bushes.
Merle immediately sat up.
He grabbed an AWM sniper rifle from the back seat, rested it on the hood of the Humvee, and centered the moving leaves in his scope.
A Walker stumbled out of the trees.
It wore a tattered plaid shirt.
Half of its face had rotted away.
One leg dragged uselessly behind it.
Merle rested his finger on the trigger.
But he didn't fire.
Too far.
Not interesting enough.
He'd wait until it got closer.
The Walker limped forward.
Merle tracked it patiently through the scope like a cat stalking prey.
Then another figure emerged from the forest.
Not a Walker.
A person.
A Black priest dressed in dark clerical robes stumbled from the undergrowth.
A silver cross hung from his neck.
Sweat drenched his face.
His lips trembled.
The moment he spotted the bulldozers, the Humvees, and the armed soldiers, he froze.
Then he sprinted toward them.
Merle immediately swung the rifle toward him.
The crosshairs settled on the priest's chest.
The priest raised both hands.
"Don't shoot! I'm alive!"
Bang!
The gunshot echoed across the highway.
The priest froze.
His knees nearly gave out beneath him.
Slowly, he looked down at his chest.
No blood.
No wound.
A dull thud sounded behind him.
He turned around.
The Walker had collapsed only a few feet away.
A neat hole had been punched through its skull.
Dark blood seeped into the dead leaves beneath it.
The priest's legs weakened.
He staggered against the Humvee and gasped for breath.
"Thank you... thank you, brother..."
Merle slung the rifle over his shoulder and jumped down from the vehicle.
Still chewing on the mangled piece of grass, he looked the priest up and down.
"So, how'd you end up running out of those woods?"
His eyes drifted to the robes.
"You're a priest?"
A grin spread across his face.
"Praying doesn't do much good these days, does it? God's probably too busy dealing with all the Walkers."
The priest's face flushed red.
Then pale.
Then red again.
His lips moved, but no words came out.