WebNovels

Chapter 45 - Ch45 Senoia

The group filed out of the station, heading toward the vehicles.

Joe swung a leg over his Harley, fired it up.

He caught Beth and Maggie bickering in hushed tones, both sneaking glances his way.

They stopped when Emma strolled over and slid onto the bike behind him.

The sisters huffed, splitting... Maggie joining Amy and Andrea, who held Clem's hand.

Beth climbed in a truck with her dad.

Michonne found a seat in Rick's car, quietly chatting with the ever-bright Elize.

Carl stuck with Lori, Carol, and Sophia.

The convoy set off, only twenty hours stood between them and Fort Benning.

They aimed to stay on Route 85, the straightest shot.

Blocked roads were a given, but the backroads would be worse.

The run-in with the Sunbursts still weighed heavy on everyone's minds.

Seven hours later Joe slowed, signaling the turnoff.

Signs welcomed them to Senoia. The convoy followed close, everyone tense.

The highway had drained them, and it was time for a breather.

They rolled into town. Windows up, eyes sharp. Main Street stretched ahead, clean.

Too clean.

A mural splashed across one wall, colors crisp as if the world hadn't fallen apart.

The deeper they drove, the stranger it felt.

Curtains still hung neat. Storefront glass unbroken.

No bodies. No walkers.

Just silence.

Joe stopped the Harley at a gated building.

A placard read, "Senoia Historical Society and Museum."

He picked the gate's lock, swinging it wide. The convoy pulled inside, Daryl securing the gate with their own chain.

At the museum doors, Michonne knelt and worked the lock.

It clicked, and Rick and Daryl swept the reception first.

Clear. Not a walker in sight.

The place looked untouched. Spruce floors, glass cases lining the walls. Soft colors painting the walls, easy on the eyes.

The kids drifted in, wide-eyed at the displays. Daryl shadowed them while Rick and Glenn cleared the upper floor.

Joe moved slow, Emma leaning on his arm. Glass cases held relics... old cameras, reels, projectors.

"This is so cool," Emma whispered.

"Yeah," Joe said, lips pulling into a faint smile.

One case held a lever-action rifle. Joe forced the lock and lifted it out, hefting the weight.

He cycled the lever, checked the firing pin. Real. Working.

Only problem, there was no .30 caliber rounds. Without ammo, it was just a cool, realistic toy.

He carried it along as Emma gasped at different exhibits.

When they rejoined the others, the group had gathered, talking next steps. The room fell quiet when Joe entered.

"I think we should stay here a while, loot what we can. Any questions?" he said.

Carol frowned. "Shouldn't we get to Fort Benning as soon as possible?"

Rick shook his head. "Doesn't matter when we get there. Just that we do."

Hershel added, "That's right. And we don't even know if Benning's still standing." He glanced at Rick and Joe.

Glenn spoke up. "We are running low on supplies... There's more of us now."

The reality hit them swiftly, the farm had made it easy.

Eggs, milk, small comforts. On the road, mouths added up.

Joe nodded once. "Settled, then. We stay a week. Strip this town for everything it's worth."

No one argued. They got to work, unloading the truck into the museum.

Joe stood back with Daryl, the two of them talking about scouting deeper into town before sending people out to loot.

Carl wandered over. "Hey Joe, can I have that rifle?"

Joe glanced down at him. "Sure. It's not loaded."

Carl grinned, snatched it up, and ran off to show Sophia and Clem.

Daryl snorted. "Kid's a mini you. Going the harem route."

Joe let out a short laugh. "Right. Let's go."

Daryl smirked. "Lead the way, Scarface."

Joe ignored the jab and pushed through the front doors.

...

They headed for the bikes, Amy closing the gate behind them. She blew Joe a kiss before jogging back to the others.

Daryl led the way through town, scanning for any signs of life. Nothing obvious, but they both knew appearances didn't mean safety.

They rolled past a place called Crook's Hit n Run Food Market. Joe smirked."Pretty unique name."

It looked mostly untouched, the glass storefront was intact but the automatic doors were wide open.

Turning off main street, they followed Route 16, then turned onto Clarke Street.

Small white signs pointed toward something called the Fried Green Tomato House.

Curiosity tugged at Daryl, so they followed them.

A three-story mansion stood ahead, trees scattered around, leaves carpeting the yard.

This reminded them that winter was creeping in.

Joe slowed, eyes catching movement in an upstairs window. He signaled Daryl, then walked his bike up to the front steps, hand brushing his P365.

He knocked. Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"Not to be pessimistic," Daryl muttered, "but if I saw us, I wouldn't exactly open the door."

Joe chuckled, knocked again.

The flicker he'd seen wasn't a walker. It would've been clawing at the door by now.

He sighed, stepped back, and lifted his leg to kick it in. He couldn't allow unknown variables near the group's base.

The door cracked open before he could kick it down.

A teenage girl stood there. She was wearing a blue dress, trembling.

She asked hesitantly, "Hello?"

Joe lowered his leg, spotting a woman in a wheelchair watching from behind her.

"Just you two?" he asked.

The girl hesitated until the woman answered, "Yes. Do you need anything?"

"Just checking the town," Daryl said.

The woman nodded. "Would you like to come in?"

Joe shrugged and stepped past the girl. The room was lined with chairs, a restaurant maybe.

"I'm Joe. This is Daryl."

"Casey," the woman said, nodding. "And my daughter, Nicole."

Joe glanced around. Decorations still hung on the walls. "This place some kind of restaurant?"

"It was," Casey said. "Before…"

Joe's eyes landed on the menu board. "Fried green tomatoes, huh? Don't think I've ever tried those."

Nicole perked up. "They're the best. I miss them. We just ran out. There's more in the garden, but Mom won't let me go after what happened last time…"

Casey's expression hardened. "One of those things nearly got her."

Joe nodded. "Smart call."

Daryl tilted his head. "Yeah, no offense, but you two don't exactly look like survivors."

Casey laughed. Nicole didn't. Joe grinned at her huff.

"Well," he said, looking at Daryl, "you interested in trying them?"

Daryl shrugged. "Could be good."

Casey smiled faintly. Joe dropped into a chair while Daryl followed Nicole outside.

Joe broke the silence with Casey. "Ever think about joining a group?"

She blinked, then shook her head. "I'd just be a burden."

"That's not what I asked."

Her voice softened. "You'd take me?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah. Though I've noticed… I've seen your legs move. Why the chair?"

Casey smirked. "Back surgery. Just before all this. Doctor said no walking. Theres just another couple weeks until I can walk again."

Joe laughed. "Lucky for you, we're staying in town about that long."

Her mood lifted just as Daryl and Nicole returned, a basket of tomatoes in hand.

"Here we go again," Daryl smirked. "Putting on the moves, Scarface."

Joe chuckled. "Just being friendly."

Casey grinned. "That's right."

Nicole carried the basket to her mother, beaming.

Casey and Nicole set to work breading the tomatoes. Casey explained how most houses in town had propane tanks. So, the stove worked just fine.

Soon enough, the four of them sat at a table with plates of fried green tomatoes.

Daryl took a bite, eyes widening. "Damn… these things are good."

Casey gave him a sharp look.

He cleared his throat, glancing at Nicole. "Sorry, kid."

Joe smirked. "Yeah. Amy would love these."

Casey tilted her head. "Amy?"

"His wife," Daryl supplied.

Casey's expression faltered, but she masked it quickly.

...

They finished eating, Casey wrapping some up for them to take back. Daryl didn't refuse.

When they returned, the group's curiosity spiked at the sight of the tomatoes.

Hershel, Maggie, and Beth came over when they heard what they were, sighing in satisfaction after their first bite.

The rest of the group soon followed. The Fried tomatoes vanishing. For a second Joe thought he saw a silent tear fall from Daryl's eye.

Joe explained about Casey and Nicole. Casey's back surgery and her current situation.

Lori tried to stir an argument, but Rick shut her down. The decision was made, they'd extend their stay to two weeks.

Long enough for Casey to heal before moving on to Fort Benning.

Joe laid out the looting rules, "The town seems relatively safe, but the less experienced should stick to groups of five."

Everyone agreed. Better safe than dead.

...

Joe stayed at the museum with his women, letting their chatter wash over him, easing his mind.

He kept an eye on Carl, Clem, and Sophia while their parents were out scavenging.

Carl was still parading around with the rifle. Joe stood and wandered over.

"Hey kids," he said. "Want to help me search the rest of this place? Might be some cool stuff in the backrooms."

The kids lit up and took off, Joe trailing behind with a faint grin. Amy and the others watched, smiling.

Emma leaned toward them. "He's gonna be such a good dad."

Amy and Andrea froze. Andrea snapped, "You too?" Amy's eyes widened with excitement.

Emma leaned back, smiling nervously. "Yeah… I'm pregnant."

Amy's jaw dropped. "Really? Oh my God!" She rushed in and hugged her, nearly bouncing with excitement.

Andrea's eyes went wide. "Wow!" She let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you kidding me? All three of us?"

Amy pulled back, grinning. "Guess we're in this together."

For a moment, the three of them just stared at each other, the weight of it sinking in.

Andrea muttered, half-shocked, half-amused, "We're like some… apocalypse mothers' club."

That made Emma laugh. Amy covered her mouth, smiling.

Emma: "It's scary. But also… I don't know. It feels right."

Amy: "Have you thought about names yet?"

Andrea smirked faintly. "Of course I have. If it's a girl, Grace. If it's a boy… Daniel. Mom always loved those names."

Amy lit up. "If mine's a girl, Lily. For mom. Or Julian, if it's a boy."

Emma smiled. "I like Esther for a girl. For a boy... I think Emanual."

They exchanged looks, hopeful, terrified, but soft.

Andrea's smile faded a little. "We're talking names like this is normal. But it's not. No doctors, just Hershel. No hospitals. Just us."

Amy reached for her hand. "Then it'll be us. We'll take care of each other."

Andrea: "We'll raise them together. As a family. Doesn't matter what's out there. They'll have us."

For the first time, Emma let herself relax.

She smiled, "Alright then. Three babies. In the middle of the end of the world. Guess we'll make it work."

There was a short pause before Emma shifted uneasily, lowering her voice. "Can I ask you two something?"

Amy smiled warmly. "Of course."

Emma glanced between them. "How… how did you tell Joe? About your pregnancies."

Andrea leaned back, smirking. "We figured it out together. And instead of freaking out, he just… stepped closer. It didn't push him away. It pulled him in."

Amy nodded. "Same for me. He didn't get scared, didn't complain. If anything, he… loves me more now. Like it gave us a deeper bond."

Emma let out a shaky laugh. "That's what scares me. What if he doesn't feel the same about me? What if he thinks… two is enough? That I'm just adding more weight on his shoulders?"

Andrea leaned forward, her tone firm. "Emma, listen to me. Joe's got a big heart, even if he hides it under that scarred tough-guy act. If you're carrying his child, that's not a burden to him."

Amy squeezed Emma's hand. "He's already protective of you. This'll only make that stronger. If you're worried, don't overthink it. Joe respects straight talk. Just tell him."

Emma's eyes softened. "So you think he'll be happy?"

Andrea smirked. "Happy, yeah. Maybe even proud."

Amy laughed. "And he'll love you more for it, just like he did with us. You'll see."

Emma smiled faintly, though nerves still lingered in her eyes. "Alright… guess I just have to find the right moment."

...

The kids tore through the back corridors, Joe trailing with a watchful eye.

Props and relics cluttered the narrow rooms.

Rubber alien heads, cracked helmets, dusty sci-fi mannequins staring with dead plastic eyes.

At the very end, they found a red door. The kids grabbed for the handle, but Joe pulled them back sharply.

He froze. Something scraped faintly on the other side.

"Back," he whispered.

He tried the knob. Locked.

He stepped back, raised his leg, and kicked hard.

The door splintered open.

The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of a TV. Predator played, its distorted audio hissing through weak speakers.

Joe stepped in slowly. A mannequin stood by the screen, its blank face glowing in the light.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand. His instincts flaring.

Then movement. Silent, fast.

Clang!

A blade shrieked through the air. Joe spun, catching the strike.

It wasn't a mannequin at all, someone in a mask slashing at him with a katana.

He twisted the attacker's wrist. The sword clattered. Joe buried his knife in the man's chest.

The figure gasped, body twitching. Joe shoved him down, drove the blade into his skull.

The mask slipped free. Underneath was a pale, scrawny man, his eyes wide and glassy. He'd been hiding here—waiting.

The blood spread dark across his shirt, pooling under him.

Joe's expression didn't flicker. He picked up the katana, its black-laced hilt slick in his grip.

Thr blade was etched with a rippling Damascus pattern. Too fine a weapon for a weirdo like that.

He searched the desk and found a hidden compartment.

Inside was a box of .30 rounds, .45 rounds, and a chrome-plated Colt M1911. He tucked the pistol at his back.

The TV still hissed behind him. Joe turned it off. The sudden silence pressed heavy, as if the mannequins in the room leaned closer.

When he stepped out, Carl stood rigid, pistol aimed, shielding Clem and Sophia.

His hands trembled until he saw Joe. Then he lowered the gun.

"Good job, kid," Joe said, giving his head a soft pat. "Let's go."

"What happened?" Sophia whispered.

"Yeah," Clem echoed.

"Nothing important." Joe walked on, calm as stone.

The kids spotted the katana on his shoulder, awe lighting their faces.

They begged him to hold it. Clem held it reverently, Sophia swung with effort, her arms straining.

Carl had a wide grin, he slashed the air.

"WATAH!"

Their laughter rang out, sharp against the museum's quiet.

Joe even cracked a smile.

But when they reached the main hall, Lori's face twisted in horror.

"Carl! Put that sword down!" She commanded.

"I'm not a little kid anymore!" Carl snapped back.

"Then stop acting like one!" she shot.

Carl shoved the weapon back at Joe and stormed off.

Lori's glare locked on him. "How could you give my son a sword?"

Joe exhaled slowly. "Fuck off, Lori."

Her face went red. She turned and stormed away, muttering curses.

Joe walked back to his women. Amy asked, "What's your problem with Lori?"

Joe smirked. "She annoys me."

Andrea laughed. Emma grinned. "I love your honesty."

Joe slid the katana free, the steel gleaming in the low light, and set to sharpening it.

Clem and Sophia sat nearby with their dolls, their laughter faint.

The edge of the blade sang with each stroke, a quiet promise in the silence of the museum.

Joe sat sharpening the katana when he noticed Emma glancing at him nervously. The blade was already sharp enough. He slid it back into its scabbard.

"Something wrong, Emma?" he asked.

She jolted, eyes meeting his. Amy gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.

Emma exhaled, steadying herself. "Would you… take a walk with me?"

Joe smiled, standing, offering her a hand. "Of course."

She led him out back, to a bench under a bare-limbed tree. The air was cold, the silence heavy.

Emma sat close, hands fidgeting, searching for courage. Joe didn't push, he just rubbed her hand gently, waiting.

Finally she whispered, voice shaking, "Joe… I'm pregnant." Her eyes searched his face, bracing for rejection.

But there was none. Joe's smile softened.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her slow, deep. Relief melted the tension in her shoulders.

"This is great news," he murmured, kissing her cheek.

Emma laughed suddenly, tears of relief in her eyes. "I was so worried you wouldn't want it. I was wrong to doubt you."

"I'd never reject you," Joe said softly.

Emma looked up into his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, my toaster." He kissed her again, longer this time.

When they finally pulled apart, Emma stood, shivering a little. "We should go back in. It's getting cold."

Joe slipped his jacket around her shoulders. "Then take this."

Emma smiled huge, clutching his arm. "Should we prank Amy and Andrea?"

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Prank them how?"

Emma grinned. "What if I run in crying and you come after me looking cold and heartless?"

Joe frowned. "Kinda paints me in a bad light."

Emma pouted, voice soft. "Please, daddy?"

Joe sighed, shaking his head. "Fine."

Emma kissed his cheek, then forced tears by thinking of dying puppies.

She rushed inside, sobbing.

A few minutes later, Amy and Andrea stormed out, Emma trailing behind them.

Joe kept his face blank.

Amy slapped him hard across the cheek. "How could you?"

Andrea followed with a slap of her own. "You bastard! That's your baby!"

Joe rubbed his cheek, unimpressed. "Hey. Let's calm down..."

"Don't you tell us to calm down!" Andrea snapped, furious.

Joe blinked, feigning confusion. "I didn't reject her."

Amy and Andrea froze.

Emma burst out laughing, doubling over. Joe smirked, chuckling with her.

Amy and Andrea spun on Emma, pinching her cheeks. "You little..."

Joe wrapped all three women into a hug, pulling them close. "Alright, that's enough. Just a prank."

Amy and Andrea huffed but eventually smiled. Emma mumbled an apology.

By the time they walked back inside, they were all laughing together.

A few people in the room glanced over nervously, but relaxed when they saw smiles instead of tension.

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