TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 106: Successfully Found the M2 (Patreon)

Led by Glenn, the group continued down the street.

Whenever they ran into small groups of walkers, they quickly dealt with them using melee weapons. If there were too many, they cleared them out with silenced M4s and kept moving.

From a distance, Wade spotted the military defensive position outside the CDC, along with the M2 heavy machine gun sitting behind a crescent-shaped sandbag emplacement.

"Nice! That's the one, guys!" Wade said, unconsciously quickening his pace.

As they advanced, Daryl caught sight of a walker with an M16 rifle hanging from its body but no helmet on its head.

The next second, he calmly swung his compound crossbow around, pulled the trigger, and fired a bolt.

As he reloaded, he said quietly, "We should search that one. Looks like it's got some decent gear."

Glenn glanced over, grunted in acknowledgment, slung his rifle behind his back, and quickly made his way over.

The others kept moving. After crossing the street, they quickly climbed into the sandbag emplacement.

Once they got a closer look, everyone's hearts sank.

The outside of the M2 was covered in mud, grit, and rust, almost crusted into solid patches. Just looking at it, the thing seemed ready for the scrap heap, never mind whatever condition the parts inside were in.

Wade cursed. "Fuck! We came all this way just to get nothing? That's bullshit."

Abraham lifted the feed cover, hauled back the heavy charging handle, and locked the bolt to the rear.

He checked the chamber and feed tray. Surprisingly, there was no ammunition left inside, and there were no belts nearby either.

Huh. So this position hadn't fallen while they were defending it. They'd received orders and evacuated beforehand.

The receiver channel was packed with rotten leaves and debris, while broad patches of mottled red rust covered the metal surface. That much wouldn't stop it from working. It just needed a thorough cleaning and some lubricant.

Abraham removed the back plate and inspected the internal components. The extractor pivot was seized solid with rust and grime, but the spring wasn't broken or chipped. Not great, but not hopeless either.

He worked the charging handle back and forth twice. The action was badly stiff, so he stopped instead of forcing it.

Something inside was probably rusted. Working it repeatedly like this would only make things worse.

After letting go, he moved to the front and carefully inspected the inside of the barrel. He couldn't make out the rifling clearly, and rust spots covered the bore, but there were no deep pits. There were no lengthwise cracks in the barrel wall either, and the muzzle crown was still intact.

Once he'd finished the full inspection, Abraham stood up and said, "The gun should still work, but it needs a deep cleaning and a full maintenance job before we use it. Accuracy definitely won't be guaranteed, and I doubt it'll have much service life left. Hard to say exactly, but three or four thousand rounds shouldn't be a problem."

Converted into firing time, that wasn't even twenty minutes...

Wade didn't care. His eyes lit up immediately. "Then what are we waiting for? Start taking it apart! We're bringing this thing back and putting it at the camp entrance!"

"Daryl, keep watch. Marcus, Jade, don't leave a single shell casing on the ground. Bring them back so the others can see whether they can still be reused for reloading."

Abraham and Ryan exchanged a look, shrugged, and pulled out their tools before starting to dismantle the massive weapon from its fixed position.

Abraham clearly had some experience with it. He worked quickly, and before long he'd separated the main gun body from the mount.

Wade scooped it into his arms, grinning from ear to ear like some rich old landlord clutching his treasure.

The mount came apart even faster. A few quick moves and they had it recovered too.

"Merle, you and Crane go get the truck. Be careful on the way."

Merle nodded and said teasingly, "Just wait. Uncle Merle's gonna bring the big truck over and take your new wife home."

The others struggled not to laugh, because the way Wade was cradling the heavy machine gun really did look like he was carrying a woman bridal-style.

Wade rolled his eyes and didn't bother arguing with Merle. Instead, he directed Abraham and Ryan toward the position nearby.

That M2 was in slightly better shape. It was usable too, but its remaining service life was about the same. It probably wouldn't last very long.

Wade set the M2 down on the sandbags and gently ran his fingers over it.

Sure, it had flaws. It wouldn't shoot very accurately and it wouldn't last long. But it could fire normally! That one advantage was enough to cover every drawback!

At some point, Glenn had returned carrying a chest rig and a bulletproof vest. He also had an M16 slung on him now, along with a tactical belt around his waist and an M9 bayonet hanging from it.

The magazines and pistol had probably already gone into his backpack.

"Fuck! Wade, you might need to come over here in a minute. Crane and I caught a little rat. Feisty bastard too. Tried baring his teeth at me. Fuck! What are you looking at?!"

Merle's voice came over the walkie-talkie, and he was clearly struggling to keep his temper under control.

"Where's Crane? Is he okay?"

"He drove the truck over to pick you guys up. Should be there any minute. Fuck you!"

"Ugh!"

"Shut up!"

Merle's voice kept coming through the radio. From the sound of it, he was interrogating the guy while giving Wade an update, so there probably wasn't any real danger.

Wade grunted in acknowledgment, clipped the radio back to his waist, and waited.

Crane had a pretty solid moral compass. If even he had accepted Merle's way of handling things, then the unlucky bastard had probably tried to attack them first.

Was he just some random survivor wandering around? Or was he part of another group?

Hard to say. But if he belonged to some faction...

Damn. What a hassle...

As Wade thought it over, Crane's pickup appeared in the distance and soon pulled up beside them.

The group worked together to load the dismantled M2 onto the truck, then climbed aboard and followed the vehicle back to where they'd hidden the others.

In an alley nearby, a gaunt figure lay motionless on the ground. There wasn't much blood around him, probably just a nosebleed from getting hit.

Wade stopped. "He's dead?"

Merle took the cigarette from his mouth, blew out a cloud of smoke, and said, "Nah. Kid just passed out."

"So what happened?"

Merle looked at Crane and jerked his chin, telling him to explain.

"When Merle and I came back for the truck, this guy suddenly rushed out of the alley with a knife. Looked like he was trying to rob us," Crane said with a shrug.

Wade's eyes shifted to the knife, and he fell silent for a moment.

In an age where practically everyone carried a handgun or a hunting knife, this guy had tried to rob them with a plastic-handled fruit knife.

The absurdity of such a painfully realistic weapon made Wade chuckle.

This guy was either completely useless in a fight or actively trying to get himself killed.

Wade stepped closer and took a look. It was a man with a filthy face and scraggly beard, probably somewhere in his twenties or thirties.

He crouched down and slapped the man hard across the face, forcing him awake. Looking into those frightened, shrinking eyes, Wade asked coldly, "I'm in a good mood today, so I'll give you one chance. Tell me what you did before all this."

The man's gaze gradually went dull. In a weak voice, he answered, "Architect..."

Wade froze for a second, then turned to Merle. "You didn't hit him too hard, did you?"

"I don't think so..."

"...Marcus, get over here and see if this guy can still be saved."