The Farm's Last Campfire Meeting

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"Even so..."

Satisfaction crossed Evan's face.

Power kept rising from somewhere deep inside him, moving through his limbs, his tendons, his bones. For one brief second, he almost had the ridiculous feeling that he stood above everyone else in the world.

But a feeling was just a feeling.

As Evan adjusted to the new strength, that illusion slowly faded.

Against a walker, he could probably put one down with a single swing now. Against a large horde, his current strength still was not enough. And against survivors who knew how to use firearms properly, strength alone would not solve the problem.

Firearms were still a problem he could not ignore.

The only reason he had wiped out the survivor camp in the eastern town was because the first Blood Moon had turned the walkers into Berserkers. Without that, things would have been much uglier.

The good news was that, for now, there was no survivor group he needed to fight.

As for the Blood Moon...

Evan looked at the top center of the system interface. A row of numbers was counting down there.

[06:02:33:17]

Days. Hours. Minutes. Seconds.

After the last Blood Moon, the interval had doubled. Even so, the timer had continued ticking down, and less than a week remained.

In other words, even if Evan had the whole camp leave for the Prison right now, they would not reach it before the next Blood Moon arrived.

'Using the Prison to withstand the second Blood Moon is no longer realistic.'

'And with Berserkers in that state, the Prison fences may not hold. If they tear up the fences before we even claim the place, that would be a disaster.'

'I can't face the Blood Moon inside the convoy either. They aren't like me. They can't clear the infection from their bodies.'

'So I need to find a chance to split off on the road, draw this wave of Berserkers away, survive it, then regroup with them at the Prison.'

The more he thought, the heavier his eyelids became. Carl had not been the only one exhausted by the last seven days.

The rear bench seats were flat enough to pass for a bed. Evan lay down across them and sank into sleep.

When he woke, it was already one in the morning.

By the time Evan carried the Stone Sledgehammer back to camp, everyone had been waiting for quite a while.

None of them had woken him. They had simply waited in quiet agreement.

"Sorry. Overslept."

Evan rubbed the back of his head and yawned.

"Maggie said you had something to discuss with us?" Hershel asked.

He spoke for the five people behind him. Together, they were everyone left from Greene Farm.

"Yeah." Evan nodded, then found a place beside the campfire and sat down.

It was just a random log. But the moment Evan took that seat, everyone unconsciously shifted their attention toward him.

A random log had become the head of the table.

"Rick, you probably already know what I want to say."

Evan looked at him.

Rick nodded.

"Moving camp can't wait," Rick said. "Over the last few days, Daryl and Merle have been searching the woods for signs of you and Carl. At the same time, they checked the walker activity around the farm."

"All of you know the farm isn't in good shape. The defenses are too thin. The only spike barriers we have were temporary ones Evan built when he arrived. Against a horde, they won't do much."

"And the week of training is over. I think it's time we prepare to move to the Prison."

Rick said it without hesitation. He laid out the farm's weaknesses plainly, which made it obvious he had been thinking about this for a long time.

"Exactly." Evan picked up from there. "We're moving. This morning."

It was already one in the morning. They had roughly five hours before departure.

"Anyone who didn't sleep should grab what rest they can. Everyone else can start packing supplies."

"Dale has the RV running again. It should be able to make it to the Prison."

"Two motorcycles, the two cars you drove in, the RV, and the fire truck. We'll move as a convoy and take the suburban roads toward the Prison."

"That should help us avoid the worst of the abandoned vehicle jams."

"We have food, water, and basic supplies. During the day, we drive. At night, we rest in the vehicles. As soon as there is light, we move again. The sooner we reach the destination, the better."

Evan gestured to Daryl.

Daryl pulled a map from his bag.

They spread it open. It was a city and suburban planning map of Atlanta, taken from the department store back in the city and kept ever since.

Evan traced down from Atlanta, past the quarry, past Greene Farm, then toward the bottom edge of the map.

"The map doesn't mark it, but the Prison is in the southern woods beyond this area."

"This trip may not stay quiet, so everyone needs to be ready for sudden trouble at any time."

"Do not get careless. Even when we sleep, I want at least one person awake in every vehicle."

Evan repeated the warning more than once. He was serious.

The Prison would be a hard fight. He did not want to lose anyone before they even arrived.

After talking until his throat went dry, he finally stopped.

Carol handed him a bottle of water. Evan took a drink and looked around the fire.

"That's the plan. If you have questions, ask them now."

"Once we're on the road, I want this convoy quiet and steady."

His gaze moved over every face. The warm campfire light painted them red and gold.

"You don't know the exact location?" Glenn asked, frowning.

"Unfortunately, no. I only know the Prison exists, that it's remote, and that it probably hasn't been taken by another group. Beyond that, I can't give you a precise marker."

Evan shrugged.

Who knew how Rick's original group had wandered around long enough to stumble onto the place?

"But it isn't small. It covers a wide area, sits on a slight rise, and the main buildings stand higher than the surrounding trees."

"Once we reach the area, I'll need Daryl and Merle to split into two search teams. It shouldn't be too hard to find."

Glenn nodded and fell silent.

Evan looked to the others. One by one, they shook their heads.

If Evan had already made the plan, there was not much left to say. They just had to carry it out.

What, was Evan going to lead them into a trap?

In the end, only Hershel stepped forward.

He did not ask a question. He simply looked at Evan for a long moment.

"I need time," Hershel said quietly. "I need to think on it."

Hershel was an old farmer with roots sunk deep into that land. He could not simply walk away because leaving made sense.

More than that, the walkers had not attacked yet. Maybe they never would.

Hershel was wondering whether abandoning the farm like this was too impulsive.

And this was already the Hershel who had changed because of Evan.

The old Hershel might have declared that he would live and die with the farm, then gone right back to clearing nearby walkers with a hunting rifle.

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