The rest of the group also drew their melee weapons and quickly joined the fight. Merle, who was observing the group's performance, glanced at Tyreese swinging a hammer. With each strike, a walker's head was crushed.
"That damn giant is a monster!" Merle smirked cynically.
On the other hand, Michonne's sword moved with even more deadly precision. With a single sweep, the heads of every walker that crossed her path fell to the ground.
In this way, the number of walkers in front of the grocery store gradually decreased—until suddenly, the door where the walkers had been crowding opened. Glenn, who had been watching the perimeter, raised his weapon as a group of five people stepped out of the store. All of them were armed, and some were even holding shovels.
But Glenn lowered his guard when he saw the group joining the fight, attacking the walkers from behind. However, they were clearly far less effective than his own group and looked completely exhausted.
In any case, with five more people helping, the cleanup was quicker. After about ten minutes, all the walkers in the street had been taken out by the small team.
Merle sheathed his knife when it was over, then drew a pistol and pointed it at the five who had come out of the store. In a gruff voice, he barked, "Hey, hey, hey! Don't move. Just because we saved you doesn't mean we know you. Who's your leader? Anyone else still in the store?"
Glenn and the others raised their weapons too, aiming at the five strangers. They had helped, sure, but that didn't mean they were good people.
One of the five, a Black man in a khaki jacket, raised his hands and stepped forward slowly. He looked at Merle's group and said politely, "Hi, my name is Bob Stookey. I'm a military medic and, for now, I'm the leader of this team."
"There are still some elderly people and kids inside. We mean no harm, but the food around our settlement ran out. We're looking for a new place to stay while there are fewer walkers out. We all thought we were going to be trapped here."
Merle narrowed his eyes, scanning each of them before settling his gaze on Bob. "Call the others from the store. I'll decide if you're telling the truth."
Bob nodded and turned to the woman behind him. "Nicole, go get them."
He then looked back at Merle. "Give her a minute to call them—better not to yell in a place like this."
Merle gave a noncommittal nod and gestured with his gun, giving her the go-ahead.
After a moment, six more people emerged from the grocery store, joining Nicole. Among them were three elderly individuals and three young children.
The elderly seemed to be a couple in their sixties and another older man. The children were about five or six years old—two boys and a girl.
Tyreese approached Merle and whispered, "They weren't lying. A group with kids and seniors can't be too dangerous these days, right?"
Merle's face remained unreadable. He just looked at Tyreese silently before nodding at Daryl.
Daryl understood, holstered his crossbow, and began searching the men. Merle nodded toward Michonne, who stepped forward to check the women.
After confiscating their weapons, Daryl also found a pistol on Bob, but it had no bullets.
The ten people surrendered their weapons without resistance. Nicole even took a dagger out of her boot and handed it to Michonne.
Merle finally holstered his gun and addressed them, "Sorry. Last time my brother and our leader tried saving a group, they nearly got killed. You can't trust anyone too easily in this world anymore—otherwise we wouldn't have made it this far."
Bob nodded in understanding, then asked tentatively, "Thank you for saving us. We don't have anything to repay you with, but there's still some food in that store. Please, take it. Could you let us go afterward?"
Michonne had already put her katana away and looked at the children, her heart slightly moved. "Merle, we should take them to Jason. He said he was military too."
A small smile appeared on Merle's face. "Alright, I'll give you a shot. I'll take you to him. If you pass his evaluation and he decides to trust you, you might gain more than you expected—maybe even transport to one of our bases. Of course, you can choose to walk away now. I won't stop you. The choice is yours."
Bob answered without hesitation, "We'll go with you."
Seeing no objections from the others, Merle nodded, but still added, "Wait here. We're going to check out the stores and bring back some supplies."
...
Some time later, Merle instructed everyone to scavenge the shops before clearing out, gathering a good number of supplies. The group found canned food and instant meals, all vacuum-sealed and some still within their expiration date.
Daryl, meanwhile, found two packs of cigarettes on the counter—a luxury in these times. After all, wine was only found in select places, and cigarettes were even rarer.
Daryl couldn't wait to open a pack but was disappointed to realize he didn't have a lighter. He took the pack with some frustration and followed the others back the way they came.
Jason was busy welding some equipment to the trailer, and everyone's tools were in constant use.
Just as Jason was about to move to the other side, he heard Maggie calling from the entrance.
"Jason, you need to come see this! We've got survivors!"
Jason set down his tools, and as soon as he stepped outside the factory, he saw more than ten people approaching. One Black man in particular caught his attention.
"Bob Stookey?" Jason thought to himself. This was Bob—the same Bob who had died from a leg bite.
Jason calmly walked up to Merle, scanned the group, and asked quietly, "What's going on? They shouldn't have made this much noise. Looks like you found some companions."
Merle gave Jason a quick rundown. After hearing it, Jason was convinced—this was definitely Bob. This must have been the last surviving group Bob had been with. If their team hadn't rescued them, they likely wouldn't have lasted much longer. Soon, Bob would have ended up alone... and eventually, in the prison.
Jason nodded, then approached the survivors. Merle introduced him, "This is our leader. Most of us already call him commander."
Bob, standing at the front, quickly reached out to shake his hand, but then hesitated, realizing it might not be appropriate in this situation. He was about to pull his hand back—only to find the other man extending his own and giving him a firm handshake.
Seeing the commander offer a friendly smile, Bob smiled back nervously and said, "We're very grateful to have been found by your group. They're all so strong. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be here."
Jason let go of his hand, patted Bob on the shoulder, and said, "Bob, right? Just call me Jason. You're military, huh? I have several bases where someone like you could be useful. We're rescuing survivors and establishing new settlements. Looks like you haven't abandoned your duty either. I'm glad to see people who still care about children."
Jason's words relaxed the group. He didn't seem hostile—something that brought a sense of calm.
"However," Jason continued, "our community has a very strict screening process. Everyone will need to answer some questions so we can clearly understand who you are."
Bob felt a twinge of anxiety at the "however," but Jason's next words reassured him: "Based on that, I'll choose the right base for you."
Soon after, a list was made with each person's name and specialty. Jason reviewed their answers carefully.