The dirt road twisted through low hills and dead trees, a winding path that looked like it had seen more tractor tires than human feet. The fences came into view first—tall, wired, solid. Then the house perched neatly at the top of a hill, like it hadn't caught on that the world had ended.
That's when I saw them.
Three figures stood at the gate. Two men and an older woman. The shorter of the men had a rifle slung over his shoulder. The other, stockier and smiling too much, waved before I could speak. The woman in the middle with her hands on her hips, motherly and sharp-eyed.
"Well, look at you," she said, voice sweet like honey but too smooth. "Didn't think we'd find anyone alive out here, especially not alone."
I stopped just before the gate, giving them a once-over.
Danny, the one with a rifle, stepped forward. "You armed, friend?" he asked, knowing or at least thinking I wasn't.
"Couldn't find one, but I have this trusty machete with me," I said, my hand going to the machete attached to my waist, while my eyes didn't move from them for even a moment.
They laughed, like I'd told a harmless joke.
The mother, Brenda, introduced herself—waved a hand toward the house. "Come on in, sugar. Ain't no use standing around out here. You're welcome to rest up before movin' on."
That's what I needed.
I forced a polite nod. "Just a night. Then I'll be on my way."
The house smelled of cooked meat and wood polish. Too clean. Too normal. Danny led me to a living room that had no dust. The photos are still on the walls. The couch cushions are still fluffed. As if the apocalypse forgot to knock at their door.
"So what's your story?" Andrew, the broader and taller of the two brothers, asked. leaning on a doorway.
I lied smoothly. "I was part of a group heading east of Macon. Got separated before we could even reach the town. Lost most of my gear to the hordes of walkers."
Brenda placed a plate of biscuits down in front of me. "Poor thing. Well, you're safe now. This farm's been good to us. Real good."
I smiled at her. "Appreciate the kindness."
Danny tapped the side of his rifle. "We don't get many visitors. Ain't safe beyond these fences."
"Fences help," I said, eyes scanning the hallways. No kids, no sound from upstairs, no sign of this being any different than the game.
I ate slowly, noting every creak of the floorboards, every shared look between the brothers. I didn't trust their smiles, and I didn't trust how calm they seemed. I knew what they could be.
I was thinking of killing them the moment I saw them, yet my heart wanted a reason to kill them. I sighed, my hand hovering over the back, which held my gun.
***
The sun was barely cresting when I stepped out onto the porch. Brenda had just refilled my coffee—too bitter, but hot—and Danny was already out near the coop, tending to a few anxious chickens.
They have more animals than I expected. Maybe-
"Like to look around?" Andrew suddenly asked me, interrupting my thoughts.
"Sure thing," I replied.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder, taking it from his brother. I grabbed my bag, not letting it sit still, which he noticed but didn't question.
We walked along the sides of the fence, heavy-duty wire humming faintly in the air. The grass was trampled in neat paths, showing they'd patrolled again and again. Meticulous. That's when I saw it—coils of barbed wire strategically tangled near a broken-down tractor. Not for keeping walkers out. For herding.
Andrew stopped near one of the four generators, a yellow painted box of metal. "Runs on gas," he said, patting it like it was a good dog. "Eats a lot, but keeps the infected off the lawn."
Infected? Gas?
"How do you get fuel?" I asked, pretending casual interest.
"Got a few tanks hidden 'round the place. We ration it, trade sometimes."
"Who do you trade with? I didn't see anyone on the way here." I asked curiously, Was it the Save-lots?
"Some guys, a few miles west of here—" He paused and added, "But they ain't that nice." I nodded slowly, It's them, finally an opportunity, I thought. Maybe these guys are innocent, I couldn't tell for the life of me, the changes in this world were drastic.
Would my guilt be too great? Maybe it was only in thought that I feared taking human life; if it were me from day one, I wouldn't be strolling the farm with them but burying them underneath.
Suddenly, my eyes flickered to the barn beyond the field.
The red paint peeled off its siding like sunburned skin. Too clean, too open. Almost inviting.
Two cows milled hazily inside—one chewing hay like it didn't have a care in the world. Livestock in this world was gold, they had a jackpot. Then why would they resort to Cannibalism?
"Barn's pretty clean," I noted aloud, watching Andrew.
"Yup," he said simply. "Got our feed stored in there. Some gear. Need to make a trip now and then."
That smile again. Wax-paper thin and just as fake, I found it disgusting.
"Mind if I take a look inside?" I asked.
"It's a mess in there," he replied, turning casually and leading me away. "Wouldn't want ya tripping' on old tools or gettin' a face full of cow crap."
Worst deflection if I've ever heard one.
"I've dealt with worse," I said lightly, letting him steer me away, for now.
I didn't push it. Not yet.
Instead, I let him lead me back toward the house, but my mind was racing. That barn had a locked door at the end, the same as the one in the game. I knew the story. I knew what could be inside.
Dinner was approaching, while my appetite had left a long time ago.
Back at the Inn
Kenny sat on the RV roof, contemplating his plan to leave. Was it really safe? Could his family be in a better place, better than this? He looked around the fortified wall and the gun in his hand Wesker had brought back. Was it safer here?
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice from below.
Kenny, where's Wesker?" Lilly asked, wearing a black tank top and black jeans, arms crossed and face pinched with concern.
"He left," Kenny said, not looking down.
Lilly narrowed her eyes, He could at least have kissed me goodbye
"Left where?"
"East. Said he was looking for a better place. Didn't say much else."
Everyone got out of their rooms one after another as the sun began to rise. Katjaa and Madison began to cook for the group with the things Wesker had brought from Hershel's farm.
They all sat around the fire, some still half asleep. Alicia, sitting beside Clementine, whispered to her, "So, how did it go?" she asked her.
Clementine's cheeks turned red at her question, but she quickly turned sad, remembering the night before.
"Uh-oh," Alicia muttered, seeing the expression shifting on her face. "What did you expect? You're too young," Alicia said to lighten the mood, "I would've beaten the shit out of him if he said yes." Alicia chuckled to herself.
Clementine smiled half heartedly, the heartbreak still fresh in her mind, but there was hope.
Carley overheard them, her eyes wide open, finally awake from her sleep, but didn't bother to question, at least not in front of everyone.
"Where's Nick?" Clementine tried to change the topic, but suddenly Nick grabbed her from behind, startling her, "Miss me?" Clementine yelped and quickly stood up, getting herself out of his grasp.
"Nick! What the fuck are you doing?" Alicia asked her brother, looking at his sunken eyes with dark circles around them.
Nick put his hands up, "What? I'm just joking around."
Lilly and Carley glanced at the commotion, 'I told him to get rid of them,' Lilly thought, shaking her head, but she was afraid that if she were to tell him this, Wesker would do something drastic.
Carley pulled Clementine toward herself, letting her sit between Lilly and her.
"Thanks," Clem muttered quietly.
Back at St. John's
The dining room was dimly lit with the lingering scent of roasted meat. The table was set too perfectly—silverware clean, napkins folded like something from a family sitcom. Brenda sat at the head, smiling sweetly like a grandmother serving Sunday dinner. Danny and Andrew took seats on either side of me, casual, friendly.
The plate in front of me held roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes with a slick of gravy… and the meat. Perfectly seared, a dark pink center was visible where it had been sliced.
"Hope you're hungry," Brenda said, her tone syrup-thick.
"It's not every day we share a meal with someone new," Andrew added, flashing the same thin smile.
"What kind of meat is this?" I asked as I inspected the 'steak' with a clean knife and a fork.
There are only two cows. The meat's too stiff for it to be dry-aged, and it's not chicken.
My grip on the fork and knife tightening, my eyes flickering to the three of them, the fake smile, if they aren't cannibals, they sure seem demented.
I waited for the answer, which would decide their future.
"How long has it been since you've eaten meat?" Andrew chuckled from the side.
"Ma! He's forgotten what meat looks like," Another laugh rang in the silent dining room, Danny.
"Hey, now kids, be nice to him," Brenda tried to hide her laugh, as I felt like vomiting, maybe because of my intelligence, I could see through their phony act.
My right hand swung to Andrew's neck, with the fork gripped tightly in between my fingers, the fork pronged into his neck, puncturing his jugular.
My hand moved again, going for Danny's neck. His reaction time was fast enough to get his hand up to protect himself, but not fast enough, as the fork impaled his neck as well.
Before Brenda could comprehend what was happening, her two sons fell back, with the chairs they were sitting on, their hands on their necks, trying to control and stop the bleeding.
Their voice boxes were destroyed, unable to speak, only being able to growl and groan, as they choked on the blood.
I stood from my seat, exhaling heavily.
***
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