TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 51: And the Winner Is... (Patreon)

The long, oppressive silence was finally broken by an unexpected intruder.

Cathy came charging over and threw herself into Marcus's arms.

"Dad, Amy says she wants to become a doctor like you. Can you teach her?"

Marcus wrapped one arm around Cathy and set down his bottle with the other. Once he'd pulled her close, he said, "Of course I can. But becoming a doctor takes a lot of hard work. Go ask her if she's willing to put in the effort."

Cathy kissed Marcus on the cheek, then scampered off again.

Wade picked up a stick and poked at the coals before turning toward Daryl.

"Daryl, how's the pheasant? Is it ready to grill yet?"

Daryl, who was busy butchering a white-tailed deer, paused for a moment before cursing without even looking back.

"Fuck you! If you want it, come get it yourself. What, you expect me to put it in your mouth too?"

Wade rolled his eyes.

When Daryl kept his mouth shut, he actually had that cool, rugged look going for him.

Then he opened his mouth and ruined the whole thing.

As for why...

Wade's eyes drifted toward Merle.

His dear older brother definitely had something to do with it.

After all, when the Dixon brothers talked to each other, half their sentences seemed to start with the word "fuck."

"What're you looking at me for? I didn't tell him to cuss you out. Unless you've got some weird kink and want me to give you a few insults too?"

Merle grinned teasingly as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He took one for himself, lit it, then passed the pack to Marcus.

"Wade, maybe you were right..."

"Stop, stop, stop. Can we skip that topic now? I think instead of going over all that again, we'd be better off talking about what we're going to do next."

Wade cut Rick off before he could get started.

Whatever Rick had wanted to say, Wade had no interest in listening to another long-winded discussion.

Same rule as always.

Keep the regrets to yourself and leave peace to the dead.

Shane took the cigarette pack, pulled one out, and asked, "So? What've you got in mind this time?"

"Guys, how about we do something big?"

Wade took the pack from Shane and lit one for himself.

Merle's eyes immediately lit up. He didn't even care that his personal stash was being passed around anymore.

"How big?"

Wade exhaled a cloud of smoke, took a drink, and pointed toward the distant wheat fields with the cigarette between his fingers.

"Big enough to build an Apocalypse Ark."

"..."

The excitement slowly drained from Merle's eyes.

Grumbling under his breath, he snatched his cigarettes back.

As for everyone else...

Well, the moon sure looked nice tonight.

When no one responded, Wade blinked, then laughed.

"I'm serious, guys. We've got farmland here, and there's plenty of room to expand. If we can put up high walls, we'll have a stable source of food and a place where we can live safely inside the walls long-term."

"As for materials, there are four towns and two counties around us. That's more than enough places to gather everything we'd need for a proper perimeter wall. We've already secured enough food to get us through the next couple of months. Once the wheat is ready, we harvest it. There are several farms around here. Taken together, they could give us enough food to last thirty years."

Once everyone realized Wade wasn't just daydreaming and that the idea actually had some merit, they gradually fell into thought.

Maybe...

Just maybe...

This could actually work.

Rebar, cement, and other building materials could be found at hardware and construction supply stores. With so many nearby towns, there was no shortage of places to search.

And even if that wasn't enough, they could still use agricultural wire fencing reinforced with wooden posts to build a defensive barrier.

"This would be a huge project. Forget everything else. We'd need at least ten tons of cement and rebar, and that'd probably only get us a relatively thin wall."

"We don't have enough manpower. Digging the foundations alone could take us three months."

"I didn't survive the apocalypse just to become a construction worker. Never did that shit before, and I'm not starting now!"

Everyone began talking over one another, raising problems and tossing out possible solutions.

But no matter how they worked through the numbers, they always came back to the same problem.

Manpower.

Wade wasn't in any hurry.

For now, planting the idea was enough.

As for when that seed would finally take root and grow, even Wade didn't know.

Still, with more people around now, they could at least strengthen the farm's current defenses.

Anything was better than continuing to depend entirely on those fences.

Those things couldn't take much impact at all. Their defense rating was barely 2.5.

Rick and Hershel gradually understood what Wade was really getting at.

The two exchanged a look, then quietly clinked their drinks together.

Wade might be ruthless, but he had never directed that ruthlessness toward his own people.

The young man was always thinking about the camp's safety.

No one could deny that.

Whatever else could be said about him, his intentions were to protect the camp.

Daryl finally finished his work as well.

After changing clothes, he came over, grabbed a bottle of beer, and downed it in several long gulps.

Once it was empty, he casually tossed the bottle onto the grass and glared at Wade.

"Fuck you! Didn't you say you were gonna help process the meat? What happened? You ran off over here to drink instead? You got no shame?"

Wade gave him an embarrassed grin.

So he'd slacked off for once.

What was the big deal?

Daryl wasn't actually angry.

If anything, he enjoyed this kind of big-family atmosphere.

For perhaps the first time in a long while, he'd found a place where people genuinely needed him.

A place where he was no longer just some human punching bag for a drunk who'd start beating on him whenever the mood struck.

Beth sat quietly in an inconspicuous corner, her eyes fixed on a certain Butcher wearing an awkward smile.

The corners of her lips slowly curved upward.

So even the Butcher could get embarrassed?

Who would've thought...

By the time Nancy, Carol, and the others finished preparing dinner, the icebreaker gathering officially began.

Dry wood crackled in the bonfire as the flames rose high, casting warm orange light across everyone's faces.

It almost looked like the light of hope.

Several picnic tables had been pushed together into long tables, now covered with a rare spread of hearty food.

Everyone gathered around with their plates and utensils.

Somehow, Wade ended up being pushed into the seat at the head of the table.

He had no idea who had decided that was his place, but he didn't hesitate.

He raised his bottle and spoke.

"Fate brought us together, and tonight we're sitting here sharing a meal. We've got drinks, meat, and friends. Tomorrow will be better than today. But for now, raise your bottles. Let's eat!"

Glass bottles clinked together, and laughter filled the camp as the feast began.

This was a chance for everyone to finally release some of the pressure they'd been carrying.

Rick's group had been chased by a horde and nearly lost Sophia.

Wade's top fighters had faced a horde of mutated walkers, with Merle nearly dying in the process.

Then there had been today's violent gunfight.

Everyone had been under enormous stress.

No one had really talked about it.

Hell, Merle had even gone without alcohol because of everything that happened.

For an entire...

Two days.

But now that everyone finally had a chance to relax, nobody intended to waste it.

"Shane! Don't think I've forgotten you still owe me three shots of whiskey! Just because I've been drinking doesn't mean I'll forget, buddy. I've got my eye on you!"

Shane heard the familiar reminder and remembered how Wade had tricked him earlier that day.

His expression immediately darkened.

Still, he wasn't about to back out.

He poured himself three shots of whiskey and knocked them back one after another.

By the time he finished, his face and neck were as red as heated iron.

But Shane refused to show weakness.

He grabbed two skewers of some unidentified grilled meat from the table and stuffed them into his mouth. Once he'd managed to suppress the burning in his throat, he looked around defiantly.

"That all you got?"

Merle immediately whistled, grabbed a bottle of beer, and stepped forward.

"Come on, then! Merle's drinking with you. First one to drop is the other's bitch!"

"I'll bet a shot of whiskey on Merle!"

The moment Wade, who was never one to turn down a chance to stir things up, placed his bet, everyone else jumped in.

"Uh... I'm betting on Shane!"

"Merle!"

"I've got Shane. He won't let me down!" Rick declared, unusually playful for once.

As the atmosphere grew livelier, the first Farm Drinking Contest officially began.

Merle and Shane stared each other down, raised their beers, and gave them a token clink.

Then both started chugging.

And in the end, the one still standing was...