TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 98: All-Out Brawl at Camp (Patreon)

On the twenty-first day of the summer harvest, an early morning in mid-June, a torrential downpour arrived without warning.

Wade watched raindrops the size of beans pour from the sky and hammer the lawn, bending blades of grass flat before they slowly sprang upright again.

He crouched at the edge of the massive canopy with his brow furrowed, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He did not snap out of his thoughts until the heat finally stung his skin.

Hershel stood nearby and sighed, his eyes full of regret.

Now that the rain had started, it would not stop for at least a week.

And that meant the more than 50,000 pounds of wheat piled at the threshing floor, still not completely dry, was going to be ruined.

Wade rubbed his face and stared at the dark clouds overhead, thick as an iron curtain, before letting out a long sigh.

He understood. He could accept it.

It still hurt.

Fifty thousand pounds of wheat would have been enough to feed the camp for three or four years. Now all they could do was watch it go to waste.

At the camp entrance, Rick, Glenn, and several others came riding back on horseback. After returning the horses to the stable, Rick walked over in a raincoat, his face covered in water that could have been either sweat or rain.

“Barn No. 2 is fine. It'll make it through this rainy spell without a problem.”

Wade gave a small nod. “Good. Set up a patrol rotation for that barn too. Check it a few extra times. That's 80,000 pounds of grain sitting over there. We can't afford to have anything happen to it.”

Rick nodded, wiped the rain from his face, flicked the water to the ground, and asked casually, “So what are we doing today? Taking the day off?”

Even saying those last words gave Rick a strange feeling, as if they belonged to another lifetime.

The world was crawling with walkers, and somehow they still had the luxury of talking about a day off.

Ridiculous.

Marcus handed Rick a towel and motioned for him to dry himself. “Carol made some ginger tea. You guys should have some in a bit. Last thing we need is somebody catching a cold.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

Marcus waved it off and walked away.

Wade finally pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at Rick. “Let's rest today. Starting tomorrow, have Abraham and Ryan organize weapons training. Especially for the parkour runners. Every one of them needs to know how to fight.”

Rick wiped at the rain on his clothes and nodded. “All right. I'll talk to them.”

Inside the camp, everyone was already going stir-crazy from having nothing to do.

There was no helping it. Their lives had been like machine gears for weeks, turning nonstop. Now that everything had suddenly stopped, nobody knew what to do with themselves.

It was almost like an old joke. Open your eyes, eat and work. Close your eyes, sleep. Wake up and do it all over again.

After Rick briefly explained the situation to everyone gathered around, most of them scattered and headed back to their tents.

It was pouring outside, and there was nothing to do for fun. What else were they supposed to do besides lie down and sleep?

Maggie and Andrea went right back to pestering Jade. The two of them had practically become her shadows, showing up beside her whenever there was no work to be done.

Jade had been worn down to the point where she could not even be bothered to argue anymore. She finally nodded and started another combat lesson.

Seeing that, Glenn felt the itch to try as well, though the person he had his eye on was Ryan, the quietest man in camp.

Daryl did not talk much, but when things went to hell, he would at least swear a couple of times.

Ryan would quietly solve the problem, then go right back to being quiet.

Ryan glanced up at Glenn. When he saw the sincerity in the younger man's eyes, he stopped cleaning his gun and asked, “You really want to go that far? Techniques for capturing someone and techniques for killing them are two different things.”

Glenn took a deep breath. “The second one. I want to be able to keep up with everyone.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. He looked toward Wade in the distance. When Wade gave him a slight nod, Ryan agreed.

“Fine. But you're going to get hit. A lot. You sure?”

Glenn nodded firmly. “I'm sure.”

Ryan's mouth twitched. In a few quick motions, he reassembled the Beretta M9 he had been cleaning and slipped it into its holster.

“Then come on. Let's see what you're working with. Hit me with everything you've got.”

Glenn looked at Ryan standing two steps away with a relaxed posture, raised the most basic fighting stance he knew, and threw a full-force right hand.

Ryan caught the punch with one hand without so much as swaying.

“Decent speed. Average strength. Bad accuracy.”

Still gripping Glenn's fist, he pushed outward and sent him stumbling back two steps.

“All right. I've got a read on you now. From here on out, don't blink. Watch my movements carefully and keep attacking.”

Glenn loosened his fist and shook out his aching hand, then clenched it again.

His eyes locked onto Ryan's jaw. He stepped in and threw another punch with everything he had.

Ryan leaned back just enough to make it miss, then planted a foot in Glenn's stomach. He did not kick particularly hard, but it was still enough to send Glenn staggering.

Ryan watched him bend over and clutch his stomach.

“Learn to aim your strikes a little deeper. Otherwise, somebody can pull out of range like that and punish you.”

“That's the first time. Next time you double over and grab your stomach like that, I'm kicking you in the back of the head hard enough to turn you into an idiot.”

“Now get up. Keep going.”

Once Glenn caught his breath, he muttered an apology, forced down the pain, and attacked again.

Not far away, Abraham, Shane, Merle, and several others noticed what was happening. Their interest piqued, they gradually gathered around.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is this, the good-boy beginner fighting class?” Merle called out, delighted to have something to watch.

The very next second, Glenn took a punch to the jaw.

His vision went black for an instant, and his body swayed through several unsteady steps like he was drunk.

Ryan continued explaining in the same steady voice. “A hard hit to the jaw will stun and disorient you. Put more force behind it, and you'll be knocked out cold.”

This time Ryan gave Glenn a moment to recover, but it was not long before Glenn was clutching his abdomen again.

“Remember where that hurts. That's your liver, one of the body's most vulnerable spots. In a real fight, if you get a clean opening there, your chances of turning things around go way up.”

“There are a lot of nerves around the armpit. Catch someone clean there and you can numb half their body.”

“Joints are fragile. Dislocate one or break it, and you gain a huge advantage.”

“Fuck! You closed your eyes again! Fine. Then remember where it hurts and remember exactly how much it hurts!”

Ryan's calm voice sounded again and again as he explained fighting techniques and the logic behind each attack, using pain to hammer every lesson into Glenn's memory.

Merle and the others gradually stopped joking.

Anyone could see that Ryan and Glenn were both completely serious. This was not entertainment and it was not some game. Ryan was genuinely teaching him how to fight hand-to-hand.

Jade watched Ryan in the middle of the makeshift ring with mild surprise. His style looked much closer to military training. Every move was designed to end a fight by killing the opponent as efficiently as possible.

Finding someone like that in the camp was unexpected.

Crane noticed it too.

Or maybe he had known from the start.

Agents tended to have a nose for that sort of thing.

The brutal lesson continued all the way until noon.

By the time Ryan finally stopped, Glenn was flat on the grass, gasping for air with his body curled in on itself.

There was not a single part of him that did not hurt. His face and chest were bloodied, and both corners of his mouth were swollen and stained red.

He pushed his tongue against his teeth.

None were loose.

Good enough.

How much had he actually learned?

No idea. His head felt completely empty.

But he did remember exactly where to hit if he wanted to make someone hurt.

For now, the brutal lesson was over.

The people watching gradually came back to themselves, each lost in thought.

Then Shane turned his eyes toward Leon.

Leon's heart skipped a beat.

“C-Captain... something wrong?”

Shane bared his teeth in a menacing grin and said nothing.