The farm had been abandoned for at least three months.
Half of the livestock shed's fence had collapsed, and the wood was chewed to shreds; it was hard to tell if it had been gnawed by Walkers or smashed by the livestock themselves.
In the cow pen, only a few piles of dried dung and scattered bones remained. The sheep pen was even worse; a few wisps of dirty wool hung on the fence, blowing away with every gust of wind.
The stable door stood wide open, and the fodder inside was scattered everywhere, trampled into the mud, black and moldy.
Merle walked out of the house, spitting a mouthful of unidentifiable debris onto the ground.
"Nothing here."
He patted the dust off his hands, grumbling, "The cattle, sheep, and horses were all picked clean by those things. Not a single hair left."
Daryl followed behind him, carrying a cardboard box containing a dozen or so eggs.
"At least we have these."
He said, "We can hatch chicks when we get back."
Merle eyed him askance, "Gonna hatch them in your bed?"
Daryl looked at him expressionlessly, "Want to bet I'll shove one in your mouth to hatch it?"
Merle grinned, revealing a set of crooked teeth, "Don't go shoving that stuff in my mouth all the time; I don't have that kind of fetish."
Daryl couldn't be bothered with him and carefully placed the box in the truck bed, covering it with an old piece of clothing.
Merle leaned over, glanced at the eggs, and said with a sly smile, "Remember to let me, your elder, see the chicks when they hatch."
Daryl walked away in silence, struggling to restrain the urge to punch that foul-mouthed guy to death.
He pulled out his cigarette pack—it was empty.
He crushed the empty box, threw it on the ground, and cursed.
Then, he fished out the last Hehua cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag, his eyes narrowing.
"Boss's cigarettes don't last long enough…"
He blew a smoke ring into the sky, "Gotta swipe a few packs from him later."
He turned around and shouted to his men, who were rummaging through the farm, "Hey! Did you find anything we can plant?"
A few people crawled out of the warehouse, empty-handed.
"Nothing. The seeds have all sprouted or gone moldy. They crumble at the slightest touch and are completely useless."
"What about the plowing equipment?"
"Can't start them. The batteries are dead, the fuel tanks are empty, and even if we had gas, the machines have been sitting for three months. The belts have hardened, and they'll snap the moment we try to start them."
Merle cursed, "Damn it," and flicked the cigarette butt away.
"Get in the cars! On to the next farm."
The convoy got back on the road.
Merle sat in the passenger seat and pulled another pack of cigarettes from his pocket—domestic brand, plain packaging, which he'd grabbed from the Hive Supermarket mall.
He opened it, lit one, took a puff, and frowned.
The taste was mediocre, lacking the mellow kick of the Hehua, but it would satisfy the craving.
He rolled the window down a crack to let the smoke drift out.
The interstate stretched straight into the distance, with overgrown fields on both sides. Occasionally, they could see a few abandoned cars listing on the roadside.
The sun began to dip westward, the light softening, gilding the entire road in an orange glow.
Merle squinted, watching the road ahead, mentally calculating the location of the next farm.
The radio in the car crackled with static; no signal could be picked up.
A few vehicles appeared ahead.
Pickups, civilian humvees, three or four vehicles in a line, driving in their direction.
Merle sat up straight, his hand slowly reaching for the gun on his leg.
The two convoys drew closer, close enough to see the faces of the people in the oncoming vehicles.
Those people were wearing a hodgepodge of clothes, and some were standing in the truck beds, gripping guns in their hands.
Their gazes met in the air for a moment, then shifted away.
Neither side slowed down, neither side stopped, and they just passed each other by.
The sound of engines gradually faded, the vehicles in the rearview mirror getting smaller and smaller until they became mere black dots, disappearing at the end of the road.
The car was silent for a few seconds.
Merle's hand was still on his gun, but he had leaned back into his seat.
"Don't be nervous…"
He said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing what to eat today, "Those guys' bullets can't penetrate our vehicles."
A few people sighed in relief; some let go of their guns, others holstered them.
Merle added, "Though an RPG could punch through, and an autocannon too."
The vehicle went quiet.
Daryl glanced in the rearview mirror at the direction where the vehicles had disappeared, "A local survivor faction?"
Merle shrugged, "Who knows? Stop them and ask, and we'll find out."
Daryl looked at him, "They probably wouldn't be very happy about that."
"Exactly!"
Merle flicked his cigarette butt out the window, "Let's just keep doing our job. In a world this chaotic, isn't it normal for people to band together?"
The convoy continued driving forward.
Merle changed the song, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his knee, as if those vehicles had never appeared.
On the road, another convoy.
In the bed of a pickup truck, a young man kept looking back for a long time, only turning around once those black humvees had completely disappeared at the end of the road.
He knocked on the rear window of the cab, and the person inside rolled down the glass.
"Are they military?"
He asked.
The person in the driver's seat shook his head, "Doesn't look like it. Their vehicles are all uniformly black, and there's a logo on the paint—red and white, looks like an umbrella. It's probably a corporate vehicle."
"Corporate?"
The young man laughed, "Are there still corporations now?"
"Who knows? Doesn't matter what they are; those vehicles didn't look cheap."
Silence for a while.
The young man glanced back at the empty road, then turned around and lowered his voice, "Then what are we waiting for? Turn around, chase them, and rob them. Saves us from having to run all the way to Atlanta."
The person in the driver's seat didn't speak, his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.
The person in the passenger seat looked back at the young man, then at the driver.
In the lead vehicle, the person sitting in the back seat had been silent the whole time.
He was wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt, with a scar on his face that hadn't fully healed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, lost in thought.
Someone in the car asked him, "Sir, should we turn around?"
Silence.
He thought for a long time.
Atlanta was too far. He didn't know how many Walkers were on the road, and they didn't have enough fuel.
If they could rob those vehicles, the supplies inside would last them half a month.
But those vehicles looked like bad news—black armor, uniform paint jobs—not things ordinary survivors could get their hands on.
He shook his head, "Go to Atlanta. Don't take risks."
"What if we run into them again?"
"We'll deal with that then."
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, "Report back to the Governor and let him make the decision."
The convoy continued driving toward Atlanta.
The setting sun slowly sank behind them, dyeing the entire road a dark red.
The city center was just ahead, the outlines of the high-rises looking like rows of tombstones in the twilight.
The farm convoy found nothing at the second farm.
The third farm was the same.
Merle grumbled and ordered everyone to get in the cars to head back.
By the time it was nearly dark, the convoy finally returned to the CDC.
The container wall had been closed up, looking like a grey steel fortress from the outside.
The guards at the gate recognized Merle's vehicle and opened the gate from a distance.
Merle jumped out of the car and directed his men to move the eggs to the incubation room.
He walked toward the main building with a cigarette in his mouth, then stopped after a few steps and looked back in the direction of the road.
It was already dark, and he couldn't see anything.
He turned around and continued walking toward the main building.
The lights in the third-floor office were still on.
~~~~~~
A/N: Thanks for reading!
Don't forget to support with powerstones! Including reviews.
Thank you!