TWD: Merle - Chapter 14: Nighttime Walker Ambush 2 (Patreon)

As Wade spoke, he exchanged a glance with Daryl. The two of them grabbed their bows and headed southeast together.

They had already discussed it on the way back. There was a good chance the Walkers had been what sent those white-tailed deer fleeing in the first place.

And judging by the timing, the horde should indeed be reaching the area around camp by now.

But Wade and Daryl had no intention of sitting around waiting for them. If anything, the thought just pissed them off.

They had busted their asses all day to bring those deer back, and now these things wanted to show up and steal the fruits of their labor?

Eat shit, you bastards!

Shane ducked back into his tent, pulled out a Remington 870, and racked a shell into the chamber with a sharp click.

Rick opened his gun bag and pulled out an AR-15. In one smooth motion, he chambered a round and disengaged the safety.

The two exchanged a look, then followed Wade.

They hadn't even reached the barricades when the clattering began.

The impacts came fast and hard, each metallic rattle pounding against their nerves like a drumbeat.

Through the trees, they could already make out the Walkers gathering in the woods.

Shane's face darkened.

"Holy shit! Where the hell do these damn things keep coming from?!"

No one answered him.

The only sound was everyone's breathing growing heavier.

At this point, it didn't matter whether the Walkers had been drawn by the smell of deer blood or had followed T-Dog and Glenn back.

Wade pulled out an arrow and nocked it onto his recurve bow.

"We thin them out now. If that whole group hits those barricades at once, they might not last a minute. Hold your fire until they get closer. Don't waste ammunition."

Daryl nodded.

He raised his crossbow, aimed at the head of the Walker in front, and pulled the trigger.

With a sharp whistle, the bolt punched through its skull.

The Walker dropped instantly.

Wade drew a deep breath, then began firing arrow after arrow.

With Level 7 Strength and Level 6 Perception and Spirit, he barely needed to consciously aim at this distance.

Draw.

Release.

Hit.

Bless this damn cheat!

His firing speed was absurd.

The first arrow left the string, and before Rick and the others had even fully registered it, Wade's second was already buried in another Walker's skull.

"Holy shit!" Shane stared at him. "You're even crazier with that thing. You're like a damn Walker killing machine!"

His expression looked impressed, but only Shane himself knew how much caution was hidden behind the compliment.

Even Daryl gave Wade a surprised glance.

For a moment, he actually started wondering whether he should learn to use a bow himself.

Wade couldn't care less what either of them thought.

Every second he hesitated was another Experience Point somebody else could steal from him.

In moments, fifteen arrows streaked through the air.

Walkers dropped one after another, mowed down in a line.

Wade finally lowered the recurve bow and drew the Glock 17 from his waist.

He chambered a round and brought the pistol up.

Then he noticed something was wrong.

Between him and Daryl, they had already dropped more than twenty Walkers.

Yet the mass behind them still looked just as dense.

"Shit! There aren't thirty or forty of them. There's at least fifty or sixty, maybe more!"

Rick and Shane noticed it too.

Their expressions immediately grew more serious.

As the dark mass of Walkers steadily advanced, tension began spreading through the group.

T-Dog and Glenn had just arrived, and both looked visibly nervous. Cold sweat beaded across their faces, and the hands gripping their pistols had begun to shake.

Merle gave a derisive snort at the sight.

Marcus, however, earned a little more respect from him.

At least the man's rifle wasn't shaking.

And unlike the others, he was carrying a proper long gun.

An AR-15.

Dry branches snapped beneath dozens of feet.

The overlapping shuffle grew louder and louder.

At last, the Walkers emerged from the trees.

They were less than five meters from the barricade.

Only then did Rick shout, "Open fire!"

His AR-15 cracked.

A Walker's head burst apart.

A heartbeat later, gunfire erupted from every direction.

Shane's Remington 870 was even more brutal.

At this range, he barely needed to aim. He simply worked the shotgun and fired, blasting into the mass of Walkers and knocking down several at a time.

Right now, Shane was easily putting out the most firepower in the group.

He was practically a wall standing between the Walkers and the camp.

Wade's Glock 17 barked repeatedly as well.

Bullet after bullet buried itself in Walker skulls.

But his efficiency was nowhere near what it had been with the bow.

Sometimes a Walker dropped and the familiar notification appeared, granting him another Experience Point.

Other times, nothing happened.

Which meant someone else had killed it a fraction of a second before he had.

Wade's expression gradually twisted.

Damn it!

Could everybody slow down a little?!

Unfortunately, in a situation this dangerous, nobody was going to deliberately let a Walker keep advancing.

Everyone was firing at whatever target remained standing.

Even Shane, who had the least ammunition to spare, immediately started reloading the moment his shotgun ran dry.

That left Wade with no choice.

He shifted his aim toward the Walkers farther back.

Mine.

They're all mine!

Daryl and Rick quickly noticed what Wade was doing.

Both silently approved.

Even in the middle of a firefight, he'd immediately recognized the problem and adjusted his target selection.

His combat instincts really were impressive.

Wade: ?

Thanks for the compliment. Please never compliment me like that again.

Under the group's concentrated fire, nearly every Walker that emerged from the woods ended up sprawled across the ground.

Against concentrated modern firepower, slow-moving Walkers like these weren't much of a threat unless their numbers reached the hundreds.

Seeing that the main wave was down, Wade immediately shouted, "Cease fire! Reload!"

The gunfire gradually died away.

The AR-15s fell silent first.

Then Shane's Remington 870.

Glenn and T-Dog's Glock 17s were the last to stop.

At that moment, the difference in everyone's combat experience was obvious.

Wade looked toward the scattered Walkers still wandering between the trees.

"Don't waste any more ammo. Rick, Merle, let's finish the rest with clean shots."

Neither man objected.

They finished reloading, raised their weapons, and began picking off the remaining Walkers.

The gunshots became sparse.

But almost every shot dropped a target.

Meanwhile, Wade watched the progress bar on his Experience panel climb.

27.

Then 56.

It kept rising steadily.

When the final gunshot echoed through the woods, the number finally stopped at 62.

With that, the Walkers were finished.

Rick and Shane, however, didn't look relieved.

If anything, both had gone slightly pale.

If they hadn't listened to Wade the day before and set up those defenses...

If T-Dog and Glenn hadn't spotted the Walkers before they reached camp...

What kind of bloodbath would tonight have become?

How many people would still be alive afterward?

Neither man knew.

Neither wanted to imagine it.

Rick looked at Wade with a complicated expression. Gratitude, lingering fear, and something less certain all mixed together in his eyes.

His voice trembled slightly.

"Wade... your foresight saved this camp. You saved everyone. Thank you."

Shane still looked reluctant to admit anything, his expression sour enough to suggest he'd swallowed a fly.

Even so, he gave Wade a small nod.

At least this time, there was no denying it.

The newcomer had saved all of them.

Wade smiled.

"Come on, guys. We just won a fight. Don't start sounding so gloomy."

"This wasn't just me. Everybody did their part. So cheer up, all right?"

"Exactly!" Merle chimed in. "We just blew their damn brains out. That's a hell of a win, so how about looking a little happier?"

For once, Merle said something without immediately irritating everyone around him.

A historic moment, really.