Chapter 18: Nitroglycerin Tablets
Kenny covered the front while Katjaa scooped the still-shaken Duck into her arms.
Lee gripped Clementine's hand; the group stumbled toward the pharmacy's open door, ragged and breathless.
Hanks slipped through last.
BANG!
Glenn and Carly slammed the door shut behind them with all their strength, and Hanks jammed his crowbar into the latch to brace it.
No sooner had the boards clicked into place than frantic pounding and scraping erupted from outside.
Inside the shop the light was dim—thin shafts of sun leaking through the boarded slats. The air smelled of medicine, dust, and sweat.
They pressed against the walls, chests heaving, hearts hammering.
Before anyone could catch a breath, a sharp female voice sliced the hush.
"My God! How many people did you bring in?!" a long-haired woman in a black tank top barked from between the shelves.
She turned on Carly, furious. "I told you not to go out! What were you thinking?"
"You went out, you fired a gun, and you brought back a bunch of strangers!" the woman continued. "I can't just watch them get bitten—there are two kids here!"
Carly snapped back fiercely, pointing at Duck and Clementine, still trembling. "They're not just strangers!"
"I've told you a hundred times—don't open that damn door! I meant it!" Lilly's hands trembled with anger as she jabbed a finger toward Hanks and the newcomers. "We don't know who they are or what they'll do to us!"
"So what—one of them looks like a cop, does that make cops dangerous?" Carly shot back, nodding at Hanks.
From behind Lilly, a large, white-haired man named Larry stepped forward. His face was hard as flint; his voice low and heavy.
"Who knows if he's a real cop or a fake?" Larry said, scanning Duck's bloodied shirt with a grimace. "Because of them, the walkers started slamming on the doors again. You want to die today?"
Lee stepped forward, trying to calm things. He didn't want fresh quarrels after barely surviving. "Sir, there are two minors here…"
Larry didn't wait to hear the rest. His stare fixed on Duck. "One of them's been bitten. Toss him out or smash his skull!"
"He wasn't bitten! That's not his blood!" Lee blurted.
"Don't you dare touch my boy!" Kenny roared like an enraged lion, stepping between Larry and Duck, eyes blazing.
Hanks had stayed out of the arguing since they came in, scanning the room for threats. When he judged the immediate danger clear, he crossed the floor without ceremony.
He shoved the slightly warm barrel of his pistol into Larry's mouth. The weapon's cold muzzle and Hanks's voice were matter-of-fact, brutal:
"From now on, if I hear one more useless word out of you, I'll blow your brains out."
"Understand, you idiot?"
Hanks didn't bother to hide his killing intent.
The stench of gunpowder and death hanging on Hanks' weapon instantly smothered all of Larry's swagger.
Larry's eyes bulged with terror. A choked, guttural sound escaped his throat—but he didn't dare move. Even swallowing felt like it might set off the demon with a gun pressed to his mouth.
The pharmacy fell into a suffocating silence.
Lilly instinctively raised her gun—
but Hanks was faster. He drew his spare Beretta 92 and aimed at her in one fluid motion.
Glenn and Carly stiffened, hands hovering near their weapons.
"I asked you a question," Hanks said softly—yet the words pierced every ear in the room. "Do. You. Understand?"
Larry gave the smallest nod, sweat beading down his temples.
Hanks withdrew the gun and tapped the barrel against Larry's cheek, leaving a faint streak of gunpowder across his pale skin.
Then, unexpectedly, Katjaa's quiet voice cut through the silence. "Everyone, stop for a second. Let's… just introduce ourselves. We're all human, right?"
The suggestion—simple, human—broke through the madness.
Hanks holstered his gun. "Fine," he muttered. "Make it quick."
Lee stepped forward first. "Lee Everett. Used to teach history at the University of Georgia."
Kenny followed, still clutching his shotgun. "Kenny. Fisherman. My wife's Katjaa, my boy's Duck."
Katjaa gave a tired but polite nod. "Hello."
Glenn raised a hand awkwardly. "Glenn. Used to deliver pizzas. Guess that makes me the local errand guy now."
Carly shrugged. "Carly. Reporter. WABE Radio."
Lilly hesitated but spoke anyway. "Lilly. Military. My dad's Larry."
Larry just grunted, still pale, avoiding Hanks's stare.
Finally, all eyes turned to the man who had just taken command.
"Hanks. Atlanta PD."
The way he said it—steady, professional, but weighed with exhaustion—made the others straighten unconsciously.
"Good. From now on, I'm the one giving orders."
He holstered the weapon and immediately took command.
"Lee, Kenny—check the windows and doors. Make sure nothing's getting through."
"Glenn, right? You know this place. Check for any other exits that could become a problem."
His voice was calm, firm—precise enough to snap everyone into action. In seconds, the scattered group began moving like a unit.
Hanks stepped to a boarded window and peered through a narrow gap.
Walkers swarmed the storefront—packed shoulder to shoulder. They weren't getting out anytime soon.
This was worse than he expected.
Behind him, Larry's face twisted—not with anger this time, but pain. The color drained from his cheeks. He clutched his chest, gasping, then stumbled backward and collapsed against the counter.
"Dad!" Lilly cried, rushing to catch him. "He has heart problems—he needs his medication!"
"Nitroglycerin tablets?" Katjaa stepped forward, her voice alert and professional. She was a veterinarian, but medical knowledge was medical knowledge.
"Yes!" Lilly's earlier hostility was gone—replaced with raw worry. "We came here to get to the pharmacy's storage room."
"Please… I'm begging you. Find the meds."
All eyes turned to Hanks.
"Stay with your father. Keep him calm," Hanks instructed, tone returning to clipped, controlled authority.
"Doug, Kenny—front and back entrances. Reinforce the barricades. Report anything unusual immediately."
"Katjaa, Carly—take the kids to a clean corner. Check Duck. Make sure he's unhurt."
He issued orders with soldier-like clarity.
Kenny shot Larry and Lilly a look of pure resentment, but the situation was bigger than his pride. He spat on the floor, slung his shotgun, and headed for the door with Doug.
Katjaa and Carly guided the shaken children to a safer corner and began soothing them.
"Uh, I… I might be able to help," Glenn said cautiously, raising a hand like a student in class.
"I know a motel nearby. There might still be cars—and gas. If we can hot-wire one, we could get out of here."
Hanks looked at him—somehow, Glenn's head felt very suitable for use as a baseball.
"Ahem. Fine. Be careful." Hanks shoved the thought aside and pulled out the walkie-talkie he'd been carrying since the farm.
"Same frequency as Clementine's. Stay in contact. Safety first—don't play hero."
Glenn took the radio, nodded firmly, and—with help from Kenny and Doug—slipped out through a narrow gap at the back door and vanished into the alley.
With immediate tasks set, Hanks turned toward a closed office door deeper inside the pharmacy.
"Lee," he said. "With me. We clear the office. See if there's anything useful."
Lee nodded.
The two advanced, weapons ready, and pushed the door open. The office was small and dusty—an old desk, a filing cabinet, shelves stacked with papers. After confirming no walkers inside, Lee's eyes landed on the desk.
His face drained of color.
His feet rooted to the floor.
His breathing hitched—a deep, personal panic rising from someplace old and scarred.
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