TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 52: A Young Girl's Blush Is Worth More Than Anything (Patreon)

The next morning.

When Wade crawled out of his tent, he saw three people sitting by the campfire.

Wait...

Why were all three of them wearing exactly the same clothes?

Marcus heard the movement and glanced over. Without saying a word, he tossed two more pieces of firewood onto the flames.

"Hey, Marcus? You're up early today."

A vein throbbed on Marcus's forehead. He opened his mouth, then thought better of it.

Forget it.

There was no point arguing with a bunch of drunks.

"Ugh..."

Fragments of memory slowly began surfacing from the darkness, flashing through Wade's mind in broken pieces.

Yesterday's drinking contest...

Shane had won, apparently.

Then Daryl had carried Merle away, and Shane had thrown up all over Rick.

After that, Wade vaguely remembered raising a bottle over his head and shouting something about reclaiming their land and restoring order.

There had also been someone else...

A blonde girl.

She'd handed him something, and then he seemed to have reached out and patted her head while saying something he probably shouldn't have.

And after that...

Had someone yelled at him?

Or hit him?

After straining his brain for a while, Wade gave up trying to remember.

Just some drunken nonsense.

Nothing worth worrying about.

Yeah.

Definitely.

"Marcus... yesterday... I didn't do anything... weird, did I?"

The corner of Marcus's mouth curled into a teasing smile.

"I think that's something you should ask Mr. Greene. Oh, right. I remember we've still got some riot helmets lying around. You might want to put one on before you ask."

"...Fuck. Are you serious?"

Marcus shrugged helplessly.

Rick crawled out of his tent as well.

He'd shown more restraint than the others last night, but he'd still been forced to drink quite a bit.

As for who was responsible...

Rick never would've expected his own best friend, Shane, to stab him in the back like that.

The bastard had downed seven beers in a row, thrown up, rinsed his mouth out with water, and then gone right back after Rick.

If Shane hadn't absorbed too much alcohol too quickly and passed out first, Rick doubted he would've escaped in much better shape.

"Morning, Wade. Marcus."

"Morning, Rick. How'd last night treat you?"

"It was crazy, man. I don't think I ever did anything like that even before the apocalypse." Rick smiled and waved a hand.

Maybe it would end up becoming one of those rare memories he'd carry with him for the rest of his life.

Wade narrowed his eyes slightly, put on an easy smile, and casually asked, "So, how'd your talk with Hershel go last night?"

Rick's smile stiffened.

"Uh... pretty well, buddy. Though I think he'd probably rather talk to you."

"Pfft..."

Marcus barely managed to hold back his laughter. He turned away, his shoulders shaking.

He'd thought Rick was a perfectly upright sheriff.

Turns out there was a little darkness inside him too.

Wade stared blankly, completely missing the implication.

His pig brain started working overtime as he desperately tried to remember.

Hmm...

Nothing.

"Forget it. We'll talk about that later. Around noon, everyone heads to the supermarket warehouse in town. The women will pack everything up, while the men handle loading and security. We clear the place out in one trip if we can."

Rick raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone?"

"Yeah. Everyone. We don't have much time."

Rick caught the urgency in Wade's voice.

What was this young man worried about?

Or was he planning something?

"Alright. We'll do it your way."

He nodded and didn't press the matter, choosing to trust Wade.

Marcus glanced toward the tents where the others were still sleeping like the dead.

"I'll find some hangover medicine for these drunks later. I think I saw some in our supplies."

That was his top fighter for you.

The moment Wade made a move, Marcus was right there with him.

After washing up, the three heated a few cans of food and used them to fill their empty stomachs.

A slender figure in a white shirt emerged from the farmhouse in the distance, carrying a basket in her hand.

Marcus and Rick looked over.

Then they glanced at each other, exchanged knowing smiles, and immediately stood up with excuses ready.

"I'm gonna check on Cathy."

"I'll go see Carl."

Wade watched them leave in confusion but didn't bother asking.

Apparently, this was something a single guy simply wasn't qualified to understand.

Of course, if he had been the one involved, that might've turned into a completely different story.

Or an accident.

Wade looked toward Beth as she approached from the distance.

Her steps were slightly hurried.

And her expression...

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Then he remembered the strange things Marcus and Rick had said about Hershel.

Had something happened during last night's party?

No way...

Beth reached Wade, set down the wicker basket in her hand, and crouched beside him.

Her head was slightly lowered, and before she even spoke, a faint blush had already appeared on her cheeks.

"Wade, good morning. Did you... did you sleep well last night?"

Wade stared at her face, half-hidden behind her blonde hair, and hesitated.

"Uh, yeah. Pretty well. Slept like a rock."

"That's all? You didn't dream about anything?"

"No. Can you give me a hint, Beth?"

Beth raised her head and looked at him with her almond-shaped eyes.

"Did you really forget?"

Wait.

What the hell had he done last night?

Why was everyone suddenly speaking in riddles?

He couldn't possibly have committed some unforgivable crime, right?

Wade cautiously asked, "Like what?"

Beth frowned slightly, seemingly trying to figure out whether he'd truly forgotten or was only pretending.

But looking at the completely innocent expression on his face...

Maybe he really had forgotten.

So she did something bold.

She took Wade's hand and placed it on top of her head.

"Remember now?"

Wade froze for a second.

Then his pig brain automatically began searching through the wreckage.

Dead memories suddenly came back to life.

Darkness.

Laughter.

Alcohol.

Blonde-haired Beth leaning close to him.

His stupid hand reaching out before he could stop himself, casually rubbing her head while he said...

"Of course! Our Beth is the one and only little moon in the whole world!"

Wade jerked his hand back as though he'd been stabbed with a needle.

His face immediately turned red.

He lowered his head.

"I... I..."

The words lodged in his throat.

What was he supposed to say?

That he'd been drunk?

That would just make it sound even more disrespectful.

That his hand had moved on its own?

No wonder Hershel probably wanted to shoot him.

If some blond punk put his hands on Wade's precious daughter like that...

Well, Wade wouldn't know anything about it.

By the time he got there, the guy would've already been in pieces.

Beth froze too.

It was as though Wade's reaction had given her the answer she needed.

Moisture gradually gathered in her eyes.

She sniffed quietly, suppressing the ache rising in her chest.

"I understand, Wade..."

Wade's head snapped up.

He forced a smile.

"Beth, that was the alcohol, okay? I'm not usually like that. It was probably just because, at the time..."

The longer he talked, the closer Beth looked to tears.

And the more he looked at her, the weaker his voice became.

Finally, as if throwing caution completely to the wind, Wade shut his eyes and blurted out, "Alright! I admit it. I really do like you."

The next second, something soft and warm touched him...