Chapter 9: A Relationship Takes a Turn
A family of three burst into the pharmacy!
The man wielded an old Remington 870. The woman gripped a Glock pistol.
A fourteen or fifteen-year-old kid held a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun, the stock wrapped in pink grip tape. Three pairs of bloodshot eyes stared like startled animals.
Hanks's right hand instinctively moved toward his holster but stopped halfway.
"Don't move!" The man's voice was hoarse, his barrel aimed straight at Hanks's chest.
Three guns locked dead onto them!
Hanks slowly raised both hands. His baton clattered to the floor.
"We're just getting medicine to save someone." He used the calmest tone possible. "Lower your weapons. We can talk."
"Talk?" The father sneered, his gaze sweeping their bulging backpacks. "Even cops are looting now?!"
Maggie tried to explain. "My brother has a fever. He desperately needs—"
"Shut up!" The woman shrieked, her finger tightening on the trigger. "Why are you stealing my daughter's medicine!"
The boy's eyes were unfocused, his gun barrel wavering. He suddenly shouted, "They've got food in those packs too! I saw cans!"
"Toss the bags over! All of them!"
The man's emotions ignited instantly. His voice climbed to a breaking pitch. His finger was already on the trigger.
The air was like a steel wire stretched to its limit.
The alarm bells in Hanks's mind nearly reached critical mass. The man's breathing rate, the shaking gun barrel, dilated pupils—one more second and it would go off!
"Okay, okay, whatever you say!" He slowly bent down as if to set his backpack down.
The instant his knees reached their lowest point—
Hanks's right hand flashed like lightning to his gun. Quick Draw combined with American Quick-Draw. Draw, chamber, fire—all in one second!
BANG! BANG!
The first bullet drilled through the man's forehead. The second punched through the woman's throat.
Before the blood mist even dispersed—
Hanks's barrel had already turned toward the boy!
Maggie's scream caught in her throat, becoming a sharp gasp. "NO!"
The boy's right shoulder exploded in a spray of blood. The shotgun flew from his hands. The impact knocked him backward into a rack of vitamins.
Hanks didn't pause. He stepped forward, P226 aimed at the boy's head.
"Stop!" Maggie lunged, grabbing his wrist desperately, her eyes filled with shock and horror.
Her voice shook unlike anything recognizable. "He's just a kid! He's not a threat anymore!"
Hanks's arm was locked in Maggie's grip. The P226's muzzle trembled slightly but remained trained on the boy groaning in pain on the floor.
The boy's shoulder was a bloody mess. Blood rapidly stained his worn T-shirt.
He sobbed from pain and fear, eyes unfocused but filled with hatred.
"He's just a child! Hanks! He's practically crippled like this!" Maggie's voice broke, almost pleading.
She couldn't understand the killing intent erupting from Hanks, even though the parents had clearly posed a lethal threat.
"Maggie, let go." Hanks's voice was low and cold, carrying an unmistakable command.
He believed in dark forest law. He didn't do peaceful contact lightly, especially after killing someone's whole family—did she think peace was still an option?!
"You forget what they were about to do?!"
"If my gun had been one second slower, we'd be the ones on the floor!"
"I already made him an orphan. You think he'll be grateful we showed mercy?!"
"Move!" Hanks's tone grew colder. Even his gaze at Maggie carried a hint of killing intent.
He was a living person. So was Maggie.
She might be one of the more righteous protagonists in the show, but that didn't mean he'd endlessly give ground!
"We can take him with us! Or tie him up! We can't kill a child!"
Maggie gripped tighter, refusing to let go. Her lifelong moral compass wouldn't let her look away!
She couldn't accept executing someone who'd lost the ability to resist, especially a teenager!
"Take him with us? Back to your farm? So he can wait for his chance at revenge?!"
"You want to bring him back, feed him well, then let him pick up a gun and slaughter Hershel! Slaughter Beth?!"
Hanks shot back harshly. Each word hammered Maggie's heart like a mallet.
"ROARRR!"
Bone-chilling sounds came from outside the pharmacy. The earlier gunshots were like a dinner bell, ringing throughout the dead district.
The boy curled up under the shelf, clutching his bleeding shoulder and whimpering, shrinking back as far as he could go.
"Hear that?!" Hanks violently shook off Maggie's hand, but kept the gun trained on the boy. "We're out of time!"
"Or do you plan to trade your brother's life for three dead people!"
The boy seemed to realize death was imminent. He stopped sobbing, just stared with desperate eyes.
Maggie's face went deathly pale. She closed her eyes in pain, turning her head away. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Tyrant!"
A flash of complex emotion crossed Hanks's eyes, but determination quickly covered it.
BANG!
The gunshot in the pharmacy was especially deafening, even drowning out the gradually approaching horde's snarls.
Attribute Experience +3
The system notification flashed coldly.
Hanks's heart sank for a moment, but the urgency of survival immediately pulled him back to reality.
"Move!" He barked, scooping up the scattered weapons and ammunition. "Back door! Now!"
He didn't look at the bodies again. He grabbed the nearly numb Maggie and rushed toward the pharmacy's back storage.
Fortunately the back door was just ordinary wood, not blocked, not even locked.
Hanks kicked it open. Outside was an even narrower, darker alley.
Snarls were surging from Main Street's direction, but the alley was temporarily empty.
"This way!" He got his bearings and continued dragging Maggie in a dead sprint toward the pickup's general location.
Their footsteps echoed through the alley, attracting one or two walkers wandering near dumpsters.
Hanks reached for his baton, then realized he'd left in such a rush he'd forgotten to pick it up.
He immediately drew his pistol and fired, precisely shattering the walker's skull.
The movement was clean and efficient, like killing a chicken—simple, without a moment's hesitation!
Maggie followed behind him, mind completely blank, running on pure instinct.
That gunshot just now, Hanks's unhesitating back as he pulled the trigger—it carved an indelible mark in her heart.
This mixed-race officer was handsome, calm, powerful, decisive, but also... frighteningly cold-blooded.
They stumbled back to the pickup.
Several walkers had already been drawn by the engine noise and earlier gunshots. They wandered around the vehicle, slapping the body with rotting arms.
Hanks released Maggie and raised his P226 with both hands.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The nearest walkers dropped. He quickly yanked open the driver's door. "Get in!"
Maggie mechanically climbed into the truck, clutching the medicine backpack tightly, praying for some shred of comfort.
Hanks jumped into the driver's seat, fired up the engine, cranked the wheel hard. The tires screeched against pavement.
The pickup burst out like a wild horse, leaving the gathering horde behind.