Chapter 42:

Leaving for the Prison

The Walking Dead: Blood Moon Warden

New chapter is live.

Settle in, take your time, and let's see what waits in the dark 🖤

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The campfire meeting ended.

Evan leaned against a tree outside the farmhouse, watching people move through camp with restless energy while he listened to the faint sounds coming from inside.

Ever since the meeting ended and Hershel said he needed time, the second floor of the farmhouse had barely gone quiet.

Another door slammed.

Evan picked up a stick from the ground, pressed the tip into the dirt, and dragged a straight line through it.

Three identical marks already sat beside it.

"Fourth slammed door tonight."

He chuckled.

Even now, Hershel stubbornly believed he could survive without leaving the farm.

The facts were right in front of everyone. Jimmy, Otis, and Patricia might keep quiet. Beth was soft-hearted and would not openly defy her father.

Maggie, though, could not accept it. She would not accept it.

Anyone with eyes could see that the Prison was safer than the farm, and going there was a decision made for the future.

Then there was Glenn, the strongest tie pulling Maggie toward the old Quarry group.

Maggie did not want to leave Glenn.

Young people in love were not exactly famous for weighing every argument with cold reason.

They did not want to be separated. That was the honest core of it.

So when Hershel said he needed to think, Evan did not rush.

He knew that even if he did not convince Hershel, someone else would do it for him.

And Maggie, as Hershel's eldest daughter, would be far more effective than Evan.

If someone was going to play the family card, it worked best when family played it.

At this point, winning the argument was no longer the most important part.

The door opened again.

Wood creaked, followed by another muffled burst of arguing from inside.

Evan smiled, picked up the stick, and added one more mark beside the other four.

"Fifth."

As soon as he said it, another door slammed inside the farmhouse.

That went on almost until six in the morning.

Dawn had begun to gray the sky. The camp was gone, replaced by six vehicles, including the red brute.

One RV, one fire truck, two cars, and two motorcycles.

Every supply they could carry had been packed into the vehicles. Everyone turned toward the farmhouse.

Behind Evan, the front door creaked open again.

This time, it did not slam shut.

Evan turned.

Hershel walked out wearing his deep yellow hat and a dark brown suit jacket over his suspenders. Faint shadows sat under his eyes. It did not take much guessing to know he had not slept.

Behind him, Maggie and the others came out with bags and bundles in hand.

They were smiling, eyes bright, barely hiding how happy they were.

Glenn rushed over and ignored Hershel's look completely. He wrapped Maggie in a hug.

Right in front of everyone, the two of them kissed.

"Your dad agreed?" Glenn asked, stealing a glance at Hershel.

"Yeah." Maggie blushed a little and nodded.

Glenn immediately took the luggage from her hands and started toward the vehicles. When he passed Evan, he stopped and stared at him with shameless hope.

There was almost no spare space left in the convoy.

Except for the fire truck, whose water compartment was only half full of supplies.

"Go on," Evan said, rolling his eyes and waving him off. "Go."

Even in the apocalypse, this bastard still had to show off.

"Thanks, Evan!"

Glenn grinned and hurried to load Maggie's luggage into the water compartment.

"I thought you might stay behind by yourself," Evan said, stepping up beside Hershel with a teasing smile.

"The farm is everything I have." Hershel sighed and looked out across the land. "But without my daughters, the farm doesn't mean anything anymore."

He had lived here for decades. This place held the labor of his life.

But after wrestling with the choice all night, Hershel had chosen family over the farm.

Maybe, to him, wherever his family survived would become the farm.

His people carried the last supplies and bags into the water compartment until it was packed full.

Before climbing in, Hershel turned back for one last look at the lonely farmhouse.

Then a door shut with a soft thud.

Engines started. Tires rolled. Long tracks cut through the dirt as the convoy slowly headed forward.

The road ahead opened for the convoy.

It also belonged to everyone moving toward whatever future they could still build.

The wheels rolled through sunlight breaking from behind the clouds, kicking up dust that glimmered faintly in the morning air.

...

"As long as we're moving, we still have time," Rick said from the passenger seat of the red brute.

"So we don't need to rush. Steady is better."

In the rear crew seats, Lori and Carl sat on one side, Carol and Sophia on the other.

Ahead of the red brute was the RV, the slowest vehicle in the convoy. Behind them were the two cars. Daryl and Merle rode the motorcycles at the front, scouting the road.

Every larger vehicle matched the RV's speed so no one would fall behind.

Rick checked his watch. "We stop for lunch in about five and a half hours. Give everyone a chance to eat and recover."

"If we're lucky, Daryl and Merle might find game along the way."

"Works for me." Evan downshifted smoothly from the driver's seat.

The sun was bright, the road was clear, and aside from the heat, the morning passed without incident.

Walkers stumbled out from the trees now and then, but they could not even match the slowest pace of the convoy. After a few yards of pointless pursuit, they fell behind and drifted back into mindless wandering.

Back roads did not have service plazas like the highways, but every few dozen miles there was usually a motel.

Around one in the afternoon, Evan gave Rick a look.

Rick lifted the handheld radio.

"Time's about right. We're stopping at the motel up ahead to rest and eat before we move on. Over."

A few seconds later, voices came back from the other vehicles.

"Copy... static... over."

"Copy. I'd like to fuel up here too. Over."

"Copy. Daryl just rode over to ask when we were eating. Over."

"Nobody was gonna think less of you if you kept your mouth shut... static..."

After a beat, Daryl seemed to remember something and added, "...Over."

Hearing the replies, Evan could tell everyone was still in a decent mood.

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