The truck rumbled up the quarry road. Almost everyone in the camp paused when they heard it and drifted toward the entrance, drawn by the sound of an engine.
Rick jumped down first. Glenn followed, then T-Dog. Then Merle swung down from the truck bed. He stretched his neck, cracked his knuckles and swept his gaze across the gathered crowd with a grin.
"Miss me?"
Silence.
"Heard some of you were laying bets I wouldn't make it back. Who's out twenty bucks?"
Most of the camp had seen enough of Merle to know that engaging with him only made it worse. A few people rolled their eyes. Others just turned away. Dale, perched on his spot atop the RV, shook his head slowly.
Morales watched the returning group. Something was off. He'd half-expected fireworks the moment Merle set foot back in camp. The man had been left handcuffed on a rooftop in a city full of walkers. If anyone had a right to come back swinging, it was him. And yet... The hostility was still there. Merle shot a look at T-Dog, and T-Dog's jaw tightened in response. But the explosive, kill-on-sight fury he had been bracing for? It wasn't there. Something had happened in Atlanta that had taken the edge off, at least enough to keep everyone breathing.
He was still turning that over in his head when another figure stepped down from the truck.
A kid.
He had blond hair and looked maybe eleven or twelve years old. He wore a jacket that looked freshly cleaned and a hiking backpack oversized for his frame. On his head sat Rick's sheriff's hat.
Morales blinked. Then he blinked again.
Rick had gone back to Atlanta for this kid. The one Glenn had described. The one who had led a horde away on horseback to save Rick's life.
This kid.
He looked about the same size as Carl. He had the kind of face that belonged in a school photo, not in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
"Oh my God."
Andrea was staring at Lucien.
"Rick, where did you find this kid?"
People craned their necks, shifting for a better look at the boy who had been half-hidden behind Rick's back. He was cute. Not in a way that was hard to look at, but in a way that made you look twice. His skin was clean, his blue eyes sharp, his features almost too neat for someone who was supposed to have survived alone in a dead city.
The oversized sheriff's hat sat slightly crooked on his head, and he kept one hand on the brim, as if afraid it might slip down over his eyes.
He was clearly not used to being stared at. A faint flush crept up his neck, and he offered the crowd a small, awkward smile.
Several of the women in camp, the ones with kids of their own, felt something crack open in their chests at the sight of him. A clean, well-behaved boy in the middle of all this death. It was almost enough to make you believe the world might be okay after all.
Rick, who had been holding Lori and Carl in a tight embrace the moment he'd gotten down from the truck, finally let go. He turned to the crowd, one hand resting on Lucien's shoulder.
"Everyone, this is Lucien."
The camp went quiet for about half a second.
Andrea was shaking her head, her blond ponytail swinging. She turned to Glenn. "You saw this kid in action, right? Riding a horse, killing walkers? Him?"
Glenn raised both hands in surrender. "I know how it sounds! But I'm telling you, it's true. Ask T-Dog. Ask Merle, for God's sake."
Every head swiveled toward Merle, who was leaning against the truck with his arms crossed, watching the circus.
"He's telling the truth," Merle said, not bothering to look up. "I saw it with my own two eyes. The kid took out three walkers in about ten seconds flat with some of those gadgets of his."
He paused, then added with a smirk. "Better than half the grown men in this camp. Which, granted, isn't saying much."
Lucien, who had been doing his best to blend into the background and observe everyone quietly, felt his stomach drop at Merle's words. Every eye in the camp was now fixed on him again. He stepped out from behind Rick, tucking a strand of hair under the sheriff's hat, and spoke up before anyone else could.
"I got lucky. Before all this, I was at Harrison Memorial Hospital when things started going bad. There was a patient there who knew a few tricks for dealing with walkers. I just picked some of it up."
The camp stared at him.
Andrea crossed the distance between them and reached out, ruffling his hair before he could dodge.
"Well, Merle's usually full of shit. But I'm starting to think he got this one right. Welcome to the group, kid. You've earned it."
Lucien managed a mostly genuine smile. "Thank you. That's very kind."
Ed, who had been slouched by the fire pit watching the whole spectacle, caught Andrea's pointed tone and shot her an annoyed glare. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and went back to staring at the flames.
Dale was the next to approach. He looked down at Lucien, and shook his head gently.
"You've been through a lot, haven't you?"
He put a hand on Lucien's shoulder.
"On your own out there, dealing with those things... My God." He sighed, squeezing once. "Well, you're here now. And we're going to look after you. That's a promise."
"Thank you," Lucien said, and this time he didn't have to pretend.
But Dale's gaze drifted past Lucien to Rick, and something shifted in the old man's expression.
The crowd around him was beginning to thin, people drifting back to their tasks now that the excitement had settled. Rick waited until the last few stragglers had moved on before stepping forward with his wife.
Lori crouched down in front of Lucien, and for a moment she just looked at him. Her expression was complicated. This was the kid who had saved her husband's life.
She reached out and kissed his forehead.
"Are you alright?" Her voice was soft. "Rick's told me everything. You must be exhausted."
Then she produced a piece of fruit candy from her pocket, slightly squashed, the wrapper creased, and held it out to him with a small smile.
Lucien stared at the candy for a beat. Something about the gesture made his throat tighten in a way he hadn't expected.
"Thank you," he said quietly, accepting it with both hands.
Lori smiled and ruffled his hair, much like Andrea had done. Lucien didn't flinch this time.
Glenn, who had been hovering nearby with the restless energy of someone who wanted to say something but was waiting for the right moment, finally spoke up.
"Oh, Lori, I almost forgot." He turned to her with a grin. "You know how you've been wanting to warn other survivors away from Atlanta? Lucien had the same idea. We put up warning signs at the main crossroads on the way back."
Lucien glanced at Glenn, mildly surprised. He had not asked Glenn to mention it.
Glenn caught his eye and winked. It was quick and playful, and it clearly said, Trust me. This one's on the house.
Lori's face lit up. "You did? Oh my God, that's... Rick, did you know about this?"
"We set it up on the drive back," Rick confirmed. "Lucien had already written the signs. We just helped put them up."
Lucien scratched the back of his head, ducking slightly under the attention. "It wasn't really me, though. Rick did most of the work putting them together. I just helped with the writing."
He paused, then added, "And everyone helped with the installation. Merle even drove the rebar into the ground with his good hand, even though his wrist is still healing up."
He was giving Merle public credit, in front of the entire camp. He had thought it through on the drive back. Merle was a difficult man to manage, but he was not stupid. He responded to respect, even when it was offered grudgingly. Letting the camp see that he had contributed something useful, something that helped keep people safe, might smooth over some of the friction his return had caused.
Whether it would work was another question entirely. Still, it was worth trying.