CHAPTER 19: RESCUING GLENN
Hanks noticed his reaction and followed his gaze to a warm family photo.
An elderly couple, Lee himself, and another man who shared his features.
Everyone in the photo was smiling. All of them now forever gone.
"Oh... God..." Lee's voice trembled. He reached out, incredibly slowly picking up the frame.
His fingers traced over each family member's face in the photo, as if touching a fragile dream.
His shoulders sagged. A crushing weight of grief and guilt settled over him.
"This is my family..." Lee's voice nearly broke. "My parents... I..." He couldn't continue.
Hanks knew what those unfinished words meant.
Lee had gone to prison for killing the senator who'd been sleeping with his wife. He'd lost everything. Never even got to see his family one last time.
Lee stared at the photo like he was looking at everything he'd once had and destroyed with his own hands—and now, in this hellish world, an even deeper layer of despair.
Hanks stood quietly to the side. He didn't interrupt Lee. Right now, any words would feel empty.
After a long while,
Lee took a deep breath, fighting to compose himself. He clutched the frame tightly, as if it were the last thing he had left in this world.
He looked up, eyes red-rimmed, meeting Hanks's gaze with complex emotions:
"I... I was supposed to protect them... instead of being in prison... and now..."
Hanks looked at him steadily.
"You can't change the past, Lee." His voice wasn't loud, but carried unquestionable strength.
"Hold onto that photo. Remember them. You being alive is proof they existed."
He pointed toward the door. "Right now there are living people out there who need us to protect them."
"Clementine. Duck. Even that old man I can't stand."
"His daughter is begging for his life. Focus on the present. Do what you can do right now."
Hanks's words struck like a bell, yanking Lee sharply back to reality from his drowning grief.
He looked at the photo one more time, then tucked it into his inside pocket, pressed against his chest.
Lee took a deep breath. His eyes still held sadness, but now with a thread of determination.
"You're right." Lee's voice steadied. "We find the medicine. We survive."
"Hanks! Lee!"
The office door burst open. Clementine ran in, her yellow hoodie standing out in the dim light.
She clutched the old walkie-talkie tightly, her face showing urgency and a trace of barely concealed fear.
"The radio... it made a sound!" She breathlessly shoved the radio into Hanks's hands. "It's Glenn! He sounds... he sounds really bad!"
Hanks immediately took the radio.
Lee quickly moved closer, temporarily pushing his personal grief back down.
Glenn's voice came through mixed with gasping breaths and occasional walker snarls in the background:
"...anyone there? Dammit... *static*... I'm at the motel... trapped!"
Hanks pressed the talk button. "Glenn, it's Hanks. What's your situation?"
"...Hanks?! Thank God!" Glenn's voice sounded like he'd grabbed a lifeline.
"I was trying to grab some supplies for everyone, but a huge group of walkers spotted me."
"They're surrounding the place and won't leave. I'm stuck inside a drink cooler!"
Hanks pressed the talk button. "Glenn, stay calm. I'm coming for you right now!"
His gaze swept across everyone present.
Lee, Clementine, and Kenny, Lilly, Carley and the others who'd tensed up when they heard the commotion.
"You all heard the situation." Hanks's voice wasn't loud, but carried reassuring authority.
"Glenn's trapped at the motel. I have to go get him."
"I'm coming with you!" Lee immediately stepped forward, eyes determined.
"Me too!" Kenny gripped his rifle tighter.
"No." Hanks's refusal was absolute. "Your job is to hold this position until I get back."
"Man, we can't lose you!" Kenny couldn't help growling.
Without realizing it, he'd come to rely on Hanks. The thought of being without that anchor left him uneasy.
"Which is why I need to get back fast." Hanks looked at him. "Hold this place. Wait for me to bring him back."
"We don't have food or fuel supplies. No way to move this many people out of here."
He crouched down to address Clementine: "Clem, you're important. Keep the radio safe, okay?"
Clementine nodded hard, her small face tense but trying to look brave.
Hanks made sure to assign everyone a task, even trivial ones.
It was a clever psychological trick—giving panicked people an anchor point.
Basically, keep them busy so they wouldn't overthink and cause more problems!
Hanks quickly loaded the P226's magazine to capacity, confirming the route to the motel, then shoved open the drugstore's back door.
His figure flashed and instantly melted into the shadows of Macon's ruined streets.
After leaving the drugstore, the air was thick with rot and dust.
Hanks stayed alert, avoiding walkers wandering the main streets as much as possible.
Only when the occasional walker emerged from some weird angle with no way to avoid it—
Only then would he find a makeshift weapon nearby or risk moving in to snap the walker's neck.
As he cut through an alley, taking a shortcut toward the motel, voices reached him.
"...dammit, where the hell did Johnny and the others go? They were supposed to meet us at the gas station!"
"Looking at the ground—the marks and blood—they definitely ran into someone tough. Doesn't look like the monsters got them."
"No shit! Bullet holes right in the head! Man, if I find out who..."
"Search! They're gotta be nearby somewhere! Killed our guys—can't let this slide!"
Hanks carefully peered around the corner to observe.
About seven or eight vicious-looking men gathered at the alley entrance, holding various weapons—everyone armed with pistols, pump-action shotguns.
Looking for their companions?
The four from the gas station!
He instantly understood the situation.
Hanks memorized their faces, then slowly retreated, silently circling around the group.
The sky was gradually darkening. Without night vision equipment, nighttime gunfights were asking for trouble.
After all, with enough guns and enough people, they'd just concentrate fire wherever they saw muzzle flashes.
Bullets didn't have eyes. Even the toughest human would go down if hit.
Even with his enhanced physical condition, he'd just take a couple more bullets before dying.