It's been a week since the annihilation of the raiders. I've had nightmares for the next couple of days after the incident. Not from killing the raiders—I've had time getting over killing years ago—the women's eyes, however, their hollow broken eyes, haunted me for days.
Since the fall of cities, days had become measured not by hours but by progress. Every repaired fence, every filled water barrel, every lesson drilled into a survivor's head—these were the things that mattered now. I've made good time in this past week. Every sunrise, I've left the farm on the box truck to the city, scouting and looting. Building after building scored me solar panels, inverters, charge controllers, cables, and battery banks. I spent days alone just to haul them back to the farm and a couple days more just to install and connect them all. The insides had smatterings of supplies; most went inside my Inventory. Sometimes I'd come across a survivor or two; most of the time they end up running or shooting at me, seeking to loot me of my supplies. By the time I finished, I had enough solar panels to light up a small city.
In middays, I've been drilling them relentlessly: weapons handling, formations, knife combat, and even hand-to-hand techniques. 'Shoot center mass only when you have no choice, Aim for the head when it's safe. Otherwise, conserve your ammo'. 'Fear gets you killed. Discipline keeps you alive', imparting valuable knowledge to them—knowledge that will keep them alive. And they didn't disappoint. Andrea's aim visibly improved. Dale, cautious and steady, could now clear a jam without fumbling.
The new arrivals had settled in nicely. Tom helped fix the fences while Lydia joined Jenny in the kitchen and became fast friends with her. Duane was overjoyed to have a new friend who was closer to his age in Eli.
I've also had another encounter with Maggie when I went to check on the Greene farm again.
'Flashback'
It was a late afternoon when Zephyr crossed paths with Maggie Greene again. She was riding a chestnut mare along the old dirt road, a rifle slung across her back. Zephyr spotted her before she noticed him and waited, standing by the road with Ghost sitting calmly at his heel.
When she saw him, she slowed the horse and gave a wary smile. "You again? Thought you'd moved on."
"I did," Zephyr said. "Came back through to make sure hadn't burned down."
Maggie tilted her head, half teasing. "Checking on us or scouting us?"
"Little of both," he admitted. Then pulled a small black walkie-talkie from his west and handed it to her. "In case your father changes his mind. Channel three."
Maggie hesitated before taking it, their fingers brushed lightly. "You really think we'll need this?" she asked softly.
"I know you will. I've had a run-in with a bunch of raiders just a few days ago. They were keeping two girls as playthings. It's really bad out there, Maggie. Your father is a good man, but his stubbornness could get you killed or worse," I said, looking at her in the eyes. "Not to mention walkers are starting to wander off the cities, looking for fresh food."
Maggie went pale in the face, her eyes widened, swallowing hard. It wasn't until Zephyr grabbed her hand did she snapped out of it. She smiled faintly, tucking the walkie away. "If we ever call… I hope you'll answer."
"Count on it," he replied before disappearing into the tree line, Ghost as his silent shadow.
Flashback End
By the end of the week, the farm had underwent a transformation. Rows of solar panels gleamed across the fields. Cables were buried and connected to charge stations, feeding power into the house, the barn, and the converted storage shed that now served as a workshop. The group had grown stronger, more capable, more certain.
I walked the perimeter with Ghost. I felt something rare: satisfaction. We were no longer just surviving; we were preparing.
I paused outside the farmhouse, glancing toward the window where Dr. Gale stood. Her hands were steady, her eyes focused. She'd been a godsend since she joined, patching wounds, keeping the morals high, offering quiet counsel when needed, as well as tending to Rick, working tirelessly to stabilize him.
Now, as the sun dipped below the tree line, she leaned over the man's bed and checked his pulse one last time. Then she froze.
"Zephyr," she called softly.
I stepped inside, boots heavy on the floor boards. "What is it?" I said.
The doctor looked up, a rare smile lighted her face. "He's waking up."
My eyes widened slightly as I looked over. The man on the bed stirred, a dry grown escaping his lips. His eyelashes trembled slightly. Then his eyes fluttered open slowly. Confusion and pain flickered within them.
"Where… where am I?" he rasped.
My gaze hardened slightly. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Rick Grimes."
(To be continued...)