"But where the hell are we supposed to go?"
Shane wasn't challenging the choice to leave, even he could see they didn't have much option.
Rick looked around at the assembled group. Faces stared back at him, hoping he had some kind of plan beyond "drive away and hope we don't die."
"We can't just drive around without a destination. We'd burn through fuel, attract walkers, and eventually get stranded. That's delay..."
"We can go to the nursing home."
The words came from Glenn. Everyone turned toward him at once.
The young man straightened slightly under the sudden attention.
"The people we met in the city. They helped us. They didn't have to, but they did. And we helped them too."
He hesitated briefly, then glanced at Rick.
Andrea frowned. She'd heard the story, but her impression of the nursing home group was still colored by the fact that they'd basically kidnapped Glenn and held him hostage. "They're barely surviving themselves, aren't they? What makes you think they'll take in a dozen more mouths to feed?"
"They like Lucien," T-Dog said before anyone else could respond. "He saved their guys."
Lucien nodded when several people looked his way. "I treated a few of them. They were grateful."
That seemed to settle it for most of the group. But Merle, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, let out a snort.
"Oh, this is perfect. We're gonna go grovel to some old folks and hope they let us crash in their nursing home. Real fuckin' dignified."
"You got a better idea?" Daryl shot back. "Or you just gonna bitch about everything?"
"I'm just sayin' what everyone's thinkin'."
"No," Rick said firmly, cutting off whatever argument was about to erupt. "You're saying what you're thinking. The rest of us are thinking about how to keep everyone alive. We rest, we regroup, and we figure out our next move." He looked at Edwin. "And when we come back, I hope you'll open the door for us."
The doctor met his gaze for a moment.
"If I'm still alive," Edwin said quietly. "I will."
He turned and walked back to the control console, his fingers moving across the keyboard.
"Vi, open the main entrance."
A deep rumble shook the floor as massive hydraulics engaged somewhere in the walls. The exterior shutter door began to rise.
---
There was no time for drawn-out goodbyes or tearful farewells.
The group moved with urgency born of a ticking clock that none of them could see but all of them could feel. That countdown in the control room might show twenty-three hours, but who knew when the power would give out? When the AI would decide the threshold had been crossed?
First priority: fuel.
They hauled the diesel they'd brought from the gas station down to the generator room. It wasn't much, maybe a hundred gallons, probably less, but Edwin seemed to think it would buy him enough time. Or at least he said it might.
Lucien helped carry one of the jerry cans, struggling with the weight. The fuel sloshed inside the plastic container, and the smell made his eyes water. But he kept moving, following Shane and Rick down into the bowels of the facility.
Edwin was there, directing them where to pour the diesel into the reserve tanks.
"This should give me a few more hours," he said, more to himself than to them. "Maybe enough."
Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be enough."
Edwin didn't respond.
Back upstairs, the rest of the group was already hard at work stripping the CDC of anything that might prove useful.
The facility held far more supplies than any of them had expected. Storage rooms were filled to capacity with canned food, bottled water, medical equipment, and medications. There were blankets stacked neatly on metal shelves, crates of batteries, fully stocked first aid kits, and tools of every kind.
Carol was packing boxes of canned vegetables. Dale had found a cache of toilet paper and was loading it into the RV like it was made of diamonds. Morales and his wife were gathering medical supplies under Jacqui's direction, the former city employee apparently knowing exactly which medications would be most valuable.
"Take everything you can carry," Edwin had told them. "If this works, you can always bring it back. If it doesn't..." He didn't finish the sentence.
Shane and Rick made the executive decision to expand their fleet. The CDC's parking garage held several vehicles that had belonged to staff members who'd never made it out. After some quick hotwiring, they had three additional cars to distribute the supplies and people.
Lucien was helping load boxes into the back of Dale's RV when Edwin found him.
The doctor appeared out of nowhere, pulling him aside into a quiet corner near the supply room.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a compact pistol, along with several cylindrical objects that Lucien immediately recognized as smoke grenades.
"I can't accept these."
"Yes, you can." Edwin pressed them into his hands. "And you will. The world out there isn't safe, and you're important. More than you realize. So you protect yourself. However you need to."
"Thank you," Lucien said quietly.
Edwin nodded once, then turned and walked away without another word.
"Whoa."
Lucien jumped. Duane had materialized beside him, eyes fixed on the pistol.
"Your parents would kill me if I let you have this," Lucien said, tucking the gun into his waistband and pulling his shirt over it.
"I know." Duane sounded disappointed. "They never let me touch the cool stuff."
Lucien hesitated.
Then he reached down and unfastened the grappling spike from his belt. It was a simple tool, nothing more than a heavy steel spike tied to a length of rope. It was useful for climbing and could serve as a weapon if necessary. He had barely used it since Shane gave it to him.
"Here." He held it out. "You can borrow this. But you don't hurt anyone with it unless you absolutely have to. Deal?"
Duane's face lit up. "Deal!"
The boy snatched the spike and rope, immediately trying to figure out how to attach it to his own belt. Lucien shook his head and helped him secure it properly.
"Don't let your dad see you playing with it," he advised. "Or he'll take it away and probably give me a lecture."
"I won't!" Duane was already testing the weight of the spike, swinging it. "This is so cool..."
Lucien left him to it and climbed up into the RV. Through the windows, he could see the group finishing their preparations.
Twenty minutes later, they were ready.
The convoy assembled in the entrance hall: Dale's RV in the lead, followed by Rick's, the CDC's appropriated car with Morales driving, and Shane bringing up the rear in another car they'd requisitioned from the garage. Every vehicle was packed to capacity with supplies and people.
Lucien found himself in the RV with Dale, Andrea, Glenn, and T-Dog. The space felt crowded despite being designed for travel. Everyone kept bumping into each other as Dale did final checks.
Outside, Rick was having one last conversation with Edwin.
Lucien couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see the doctor's expression through the windshield. And then Edwin's gaze shifted, locking onto Lucien through the RV's window.
The look lasted only a moment, but it carried weight.
Rick nodded to whatever Edwin had said and walked toward his vehicle. The doctor stood alone in the entrance hall.
Engines roared to life one after another. The convoy began to move, rolling slowly forward through the massive entrance and out into the fading light of evening.
Lucien twisted in his seat to watch through the RV's rear window.
The shutter door was already descending, grinding down. Edwin stood there, still visible, a lone figure in a facility built to house hundreds.
Then the door sealed shut. And he was gone.
---
The RV swayed gently as it navigated the debris-strewn streets. Lucien kept his eyes on that closed door until distance made it impossible to see.
"He'll make it work," Glenn said from somewhere behind him. "He's got a plan."
Lucien hoped he was right.
Everything depended on it. If Edwin could complete the Area Decontamination protocol and successfully abort the self-destruct sequence before the power failed, then the CDC might still be saved.
And if the CDC remained intact, it would become their strongest refuge.
It was more than just shelter. It had reinforced walls, reliable access to running water, and electricity. Its security systems were designed to repel organized assaults, not just desperate scavengers. Most importantly, its medical facilities could treat injuries and illnesses properly instead of leaving survival to chance.
For the others, it meant safety and stability.
For Lucien, it meant something more.
The research possibilities alone were beyond measure.
He possessed books on magical theory, but the CDC possessed laboratories. It had instruments capable of analyzing blood, observing cellular processes, and unraveling biological mechanisms at a level far beyond his current understanding. If he could determine why his antibodies functioned differently, if he could uncover the mechanism behind his partial immunity, everything would change.
The possibilities were endless.
But all of it depended on Edwin. It depended on surviving long enough to return.
There were alternatives, of course. The prison existed somewhere in this version of Georgia. Hershel Greene's farm existed as well. Both had served as viable refuges before. Both had endured, at least for a time.
But temporary survival was not enough.
Not when the CDC represented something greater. Not when it offered knowledge, stability, and the possibility of true understanding.
If Edwin failed...
There was no value in dwelling on outcomes beyond his control. Either Edwin would succeed, or he would not.
Lucien's responsibility remained the same regardless.
The convoy maintained a steady pace as it moved along the broken road. Outside, the sun was sinking toward the horizon.
Without warning, the RV hit a pothole, jostling everyone inside. Andrea cursed. T-Dog grabbed onto a handhold to keep from falling. Glenn was digging through the medical supplies they'd loaded, apparently looking for something specific.
"Hold on." Dale's hands tightened on the wheel, slowing the RV. "Something's up ahead."
Andrea stepped forward and leaned toward the windshield, narrowing her eyes as she tried to see what Dale had spotted.
"What is it?" she asked.
Behind them, the convoy began to slow. Rick and Shane had clearly seen it too, because their vehicle was already reducing speed in response.
Dale's expression darkened.
"Looks like someone's being robbed."