Chapter 101: Uninvited Guests
The barn had white borders and a white roof. It gave off a sinister, cold feeling.
Realizing what Patricia was going to do, Jimmy stepped back two paces. His smile had disappeared at some point. He looked around left and right in panic.
"I'm sorry, Patricia. I didn't know..."
"It's fine." Patricia forced a smile and nodded at Jimmy. "You go play with Beth. I can go by myself."
Finished speaking, Patricia pushed the wheelbarrow, slowly walking toward the barn.
Jimmy calmed his breathing a bit, lowered his head, and walked toward the house. He went upstairs and found Beth.
The two young lovers began speaking in whispers. Jimmy no longer dwelled on the recent panic. Beth's face also wore a peaceful smile.
In the farm's sheep pen, Maggie neatly shook out bundled dry grass and fed the flock.
Aside from the walkers in the barn, everything seemed very peaceful.
On the other end of the farm, near a stretch of mountain forest.
In the forest, a broad and massive figure held a catch pole, pulling a walker along, struggling toward the farm's direction.
That figure could only walk a few steps before stopping, gasping for long periods. Sweat poured down like rain. The hunting rifle on his back also slid down from time to time. The person could only shrug his shoulders repeatedly.
That figure's stamina wasn't good, but his strength was fairly decent. The walker extended its arms wanting to approach the person but was pressed down firmly, able only to follow the pulling forward.
When about to exit the forest, Hershel saw that figure.
Hershel's hair and beard were both white, but his spirits were quite good. He held a shovel in one hand, inserted it in the dirt, and called out loudly: "Otis, do you need help?"
"I'd be delighted." Seeing he'd finally reached the farm, Otis relaxed in his heart. A smile squeezed out on his fleshy face.
Otis handed the catch pole to Hershel, took off his hat with one hand, wiped sweat from his head with the other hand, casually wiping it on his clothes.
The two hadn't said more than a few words when a convoy suddenly appeared on the horizon.
Unlike convoys Hershel and his people had seen before, this convoy was heading straight toward the farm.
"Not good." Hershel's eyes widened. He turned his head and stuffed the catch pole into Otis's hands. "You quickly take it into the forest. Don't let those people see it. I need to hurry back and deal with them."
Hershel didn't know what this convoy's purpose in coming here was. But regardless of their purpose, humans had great hostility toward these sick people.
Hershel didn't want these people to know he was still feeding these sick people, bringing himself unnecessary trouble.
Finished speaking, Hershel ran toward the house with an agile posture that didn't match his age.
As Hershel ran, he still shouted: "Maggie, Beth, Patricia, Jimmy! People are coming!"
When the convoy approached Greene Ranch, the vehicle speed had already decreased, slowly driving into the ranch.
Hershel ran into the house, rushed upstairs, entered his own room, and rummaged through boxes and cabinets.
Beth and Jimmy came out of the room. Beth looked at Hershel searching for things and asked in confusion: "What happened?"
Hershel didn't answer, just kept looking for things himself.
Finally, in a familiar place, Hershel found a silver handgun and a Remington 870 shotgun.
As Hershel loaded bullets into the guns, he said: "There's a convoy approaching the farm. We don't know what they want to do, so we need to prepare in advance."
"Jimmy, take Beth into the room. Don't come out in a bit." Hershel arranged calmly. "Oh right, remember to load bullets into your gun and prepare to face enemies."
The words landed. Hershel slung the shotgun over his back, released the handgun's safety, his face showing fish-or-net determination.
"I understand." Jimmy very much listened to Hershel's words. He pulled the unwilling Beth back into the room.
Hershel took a deep breath and walked downstairs.
Just as he walked out of the house, he ran into Maggie and Patricia running over. Maggie's breathing hadn't yet regulated. She urgently pointed at the approaching convoy, wanting to say something.
Hershel extended his palm, signaling Maggie didn't need to speak.
"I know the situation. You still have your gun on you, right?"
Maggie patted her waist. She carried her gun on her person.
Hershel nodded with satisfaction and said to Patricia: "You also hurry up. Beth and Jimmy are both in Beth's room."
"What about Otis?" Patricia asked. She cared about where her lover was right now.
Hershel pointed at the forest and said: "He went to the forest to catch those sick people. He should be back soon."
Seeing the worry almost overflowing from Patricia's face, Hershel quickly comforted: "Don't worry. Otis knows his limits. He definitely won't have any problems and will be back soon."
"Besides, this convoy probably isn't bad people."
Hershel's gaze went to the distance, looking at the convoy stopped outside the farm's fragile iron fence.
That convoy had several military armored vehicles at the front, followed by modified pickup trucks behind.
These vehicles had quite a bit of blood splattered on their bodies. After the blood dried it congealed into black blood clots. The wide, thick tires still carried some blurred flesh and blood.
The entire convoy just stopping there had an invisible sense of oppression and bloody atmosphere.
This formed a sharp contrast with their polite behavior waiting for the farm owner to open the door.
Hershel glanced at the forest. Otis appeared in his field of vision. His obese body struggled to jog slowly. Each step was practically squeezing his lungs. His footsteps were extraordinarily heavy.
Hershel turned back to look at Maggie. "I'm going to open the gate for them. Otis will be over in a bit. You and he stay at the door and wait for me to come back."
Maggie's brows furrowed tightly. She didn't speak out against her father's decision, only saying: "Dad, be careful."
Finished speaking, Maggie stepped forward and kissed Hershel's cheek.
Hershel walked quickly toward the farm's iron fence gate.
By the time he arrived, the convoy had already waited several minutes. The entire time not a single vehicle had honked. Silent and restrained.
They were worlds apart from those scavengers outside.
Hershel thought to himself. He'd seen the crazed crowds at the apocalypse's beginning.
Even when shop owners were still there, they'd still take weapons and break in, smashing and looting—simply rioting.
Hershel was certain—if those people broke into his farm, he'd absolutely fire his gun without hesitation and open a big hole in their heads.
Click—
The iron fence gate opened wide. Hershel pulled open the door, making a gesture inviting them in.
After all vehicles passed through, Hershel closed the gate.
Just then, Morales got out of the vehicle, came before Hershel, and looked down at him from above: "The boss wants you in the car to chat."