As soon as Michonne walked out and shut the door behind her, the room erupted into chaos again.
"Goddamn it, this is a serious mess on our hands," Shane growled. Veins bulged on the sides of his neck; I could tell he was really pissed off about this situation.
"How did we miss such a large group?" Morgan asked in confusion.
"I guess we did not do as good of a job as we thought we did," I said with a sullen look.
"Well?" Shane sneered. "How could we do that? You're the only one who gets to go outside to scavenge. You can't cover enough of an area. A group would—"
"Yes, I know that. Matter of fact, I knew that from the very beginning." I turned to Shane, my eyes locking into his.
"It was the start of the collapse. Do you know what would have happened if I started sending civilians with half-assed training outside to scavenge, to patrol?"
The room stayed quiet. I continued nonetheless.
"They would have gotten slaughtered like cattle so fast that it's not even funny," I said bluntly.
Dale flinched at that.
Paying him no mind, I still continued.
"Their deaths would have been on my hands. You know that, don't you, Shane? You knew what it was like when you yourself were fleeing Atlanta with Lori, Carl, and the others, after all."
I paused for a moment. "You, with all your training, barely made it out. What made you think they would have done any better?"
Silence hung in the air.
I took a deep breath before I let out a weary sigh.
"I'm sorry, Shane. Didn't mean to be so harsh. I'm just stressed. I had thought we still had time to be more prepared. Didn't think we'd have to fight this soon."
The group looked up in confusion at my words.
Morgan was the one who voiced the question. "Fight this soon? What do you mean by that?"
"A battle was bound to happen down the road, you know. I just didn't think it would be this soon. I mean, the world as we knew it has ended, which means supplies are dwindling down fast with no one to make more."
I paused for a bit, looking at the group's expression. Some had already figured out where I was going with this.
I continued, "Don't take our situation as the norm for comparison. I can guarantee you more than ninety percent of survivors out there are not nearly as well off as us. They still rely on scavenging whatever they can find from the relics of the old world, while we already have stable food resources in the forms of agriculture and cattle."
By now, everyone had already figured out where I was going with this.
"As soon as the resources outside dry up, fighting is bound to start. This ain't gonna be the first group to covet our supplies, and they sure as hell won't be the last. So harden your heart and expect more of this in the future, because if you don't, you're gonna end up losing everything you have."
Silence hung in the air once more, more oppressive this time, as everyone digested what I just said.
Then Dale spoke with a gruff, gentle voice. "Can't we just reason with them?" This drew everyone's attention to him. "Can't we avoid bloodshed?" he asked with a naïvety of an old man that hadn't witnessed the worst in humans.
Merle snorted from the side.
"Reason?" Merle repeated that word with an expression that was as if he tasted something vile.
"Are ye outta yer goddamn mind, old-timer? That woman outside just said that Governor dude was discussing an attack on US as if he was talking about the damn weather! I dunno 'bout you, but I sure as hell know it ain't his first rodeo, and you want us to reason with him? Nah, fuck that!"
"Merle!" Rick shot him a warning look.
"What?" Merle shot back. "I ain't wrong!"
I raised my hand again to stop this from escalating.
Then I turned to Dale, who was looking upset. My expression softened a fraction.
"While Merle was crude about it," I said, glancing at Merle, who merely scoffed, "he wasn't wrong."
Dale's head snapped up to me, his eyes widened up. I sighed internally, then continued.
"I wish we could just sit down and negotiate like civilized people. I really do, Dale. But that's not possible anymore. Not in this new reality we live in. It's all about kill or be killed now."
Dale looked heartbroken by what the world had turned into.
Hershel stepped up and patted Dale's back as if to console him.
I then turned to Rick, who was looking pensive, and said, "Rick, you and Shane step up the training of the rest. Teach them how to protect themselves from aggressive humans that wish to take their lives. They're gonna need it."
Rick looked up, held my gaze for a moment, then nodded.
I turned to Morgan next. "We have to accelerate the trench diggings so we can lay out the containers. We're gonna need all the security we can get. Get the rest of the crew temporary on shovels first thing tomorrow."
Morgan nodded. "I'll get to it."
I shifted my gaze to Merle, who was still leaning against the wall, twirling his blade. "Merle, you and Daryl are on scouting duty. But you don't go looking for trouble, you hear me? You stay five miles out, map the approaches, and look for any signs of their scouts. If you spot them, you don't engage. You come back and report."
Merle let out a dry chuckle, wiping the blade on his trousers. "Yeah, yeah. Look, but don't touch. You're no fun, boss man."
"I'm serious, Merle." I grinded my teeth, staring him down until the smirk left his face. Sometimes I wish I could pummel this asshole half dead. "We play this smart. If you blow our cover early, I'll beat your ass."
Merle swallowed.
He then muttered something under his breath, but nodded anyway.
I took a deep breath, then looked around at the small circle of men left in the room.
"Somebody call Michonne back in. We need to figure out what we're dealing with."
(To be continued...)