TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 107: What Are the Old Rules? (Patreon)

Late that night, in an abandoned residential neighborhood in Atlanta.

Crane was on the radio with Rick, updating him on Wade's progress and letting him know everyone was safe so no one back at camp would worry.

Marcus stepped out of the room, quietly closed the door, and said, "He ate a little. He's asleep now."

Wade sat on the couch, nodded, and let out a breath.

The guy who had tried to rob them on the road and nearly gotten himself killed was named Sanier, a technical specialist who was utterly useless outside his field and had been driven into a corner by hunger and walkers.

Wade felt a little sorry for him, but not much. More importantly, the man was a rare talent the camp could actually use.

As for blaming Merle, that was out of the question. He was the victim, after all.

"We've got the gun. Tomorrow we need to hit the gun shops and shooting ranges for reloading materials and equipment. Glenn, you know this area. Any places you'd recommend?"

Glenn paused over his canned food and thought for a moment. "I remember a big outdoor shooting range over in the East District. It was pretty large, and business used to be good, so they should have that kind of stuff."

Wade gave a quiet hum. "Know how to get there?"

"Yeah. Delivered takeout there twice before."

"All right, that's where we'll go. Cartridge cases, bullets, gunpowder, a reloading press, case trimmer, case tumbler, precision scale, primers, and priming tools... Tsk, this handwriting is awful. Next time we need somebody else to write this stuff down for them."

Wade glanced down at the note in his hand and complained.

Jade smiled but didn't comment.

After all, you could not expect two people who could barely keep their daily lives in order to have particularly neat handwriting.

"Glenn, think of a few more places and draw up a map. Don't leave out the gun shops either. The more tools we can find, the better. Once the camp gets bigger, women who cannot go out on runs can help with this kind of work too."

Glenn nodded in agreement, then went back to finishing his dinner.

After Wade finished arranging the night watch duties, everyone began to rest.

The night passed without incident.

...

The next morning, Wade's internal clock woke him up.

Ryan and Abraham heard him stirring and gave him silent nods in greeting.

After stretching, he picked up the notes and rough route map Glenn had drawn the day before. The accuracy was questionable, but as long as Glenn could read it, that was enough.

Six locations were listed: in addition to the one mentioned yesterday, there was a shooting club and four gun shops.

Wade was not expecting much in the way of weapons. Back when he had searched Atlanta for guns himself, the only thing he had managed to find was a Glock 19 tucked under somebody's counter.

The reloading components and assembly tools in the storerooms, though, should still be there.

At this stage, no one was thinking about reloading ammunition. Everyone was simply scavenging finished rounds.

Marcus went inside and exchanged a few words with Sanier. After leaving him a handgun for self-defense, he told him to stay there for the time being.

Bringing a sick man along on a scouting mission would be practically murder.

Crane did not count, of course.

After Wade and the others left, Sanier lay on the bed, his expression conflicted, staring at the food and weapon they had left on the table as tears quietly ran from the corners of his eyes.

Wade and the others hid the M2 and its mount inside the house, then took the now-empty vehicle toward the East District.

Glenn guided them from memory, and they did not stop until they reached the edge of the city near the suburbs.

Glenn pointed to an abandoned sign. "This is the place."

Wade looked up. The dark green camouflage paint had already begun to fade and was stained with grime and blood, but the words were still legible:

[Handley Outdoor Firearms Training Range: 200 meters uphill from here]

Abraham drove his dagger into a walker's skull, shoved the body aside, and glanced at the sign. "Let's go. Quit standing around like idiots."

Wade snapped back to attention and led the group through the maze of abandoned vehicles. The road was deathly quiet, though every so often they could hear the low growls of walkers trapped inside the cars.

The 200-meter journey took only a few minutes. When they reached the entrance, they found the gate wide open, with a few spent shell casings scattered on the ground.

Merle clicked his tongue. "Tsk. Looks like somebody's already been through here."

Ryan crouched, picked up a shell casing, examined it, then held it near his nose. "The gunpowder smell is faint. These were fired at least two months ago."

Wade stepped inside. "Doesn't matter. We're not here for that stuff anyway. Same as always. Lock the door once we're inside, then get to work."

The others coming in behind him did not quite understand what he meant, but then they watched Marcus turn around, close the door, lock it, and tug on it twice to make sure it was secure. The whole routine was remarkably practiced.

Jade suddenly asked, "You guys... weren't robbers before all this, were you?"

"..."

Ryan could not help giving them another look, his expression equal parts puzzled and suspicious.

There was no helping it. The whole routine was just too practiced, too professional...

Wade stopped and rolled his eyes. "When you used to search for supplies, weren't you worried somebody would walk in behind you and get the drop on you?"

Jade's face warmed. "...You're right."

Then she sharply pinched Crane, who was trying not to laugh beside her, and shot him a dangerous look.

If I cannot do anything about him, I can at least deal with you.

Crane hopped aside without daring to fight back. He rubbed his side, then raised both hands in surrender.

Wade clicked his tongue softly but said nothing else.

"Split up. Merle, Daryl, Glenn. You three find the warehouse. Anything related to guns or ammunition gets packed up and brought back."

"Crane, Jade. Search the firearms storage room. See if any guns were left behind, and take every maintenance kit you find."

"Ryan, Abraham. Head to the range and check the personal lockers. While you are there, find out where they dumped the spent shell casings."

"Marcus and I will find the reloading workshop."

"If you run into other survivors, that is fine. But if they attack you with hostile intent, handle it by the old rules. If you do not have the stomach for it, find Merle. That is all."

Crane asked curiously, "Um, Wade... what exactly are the old rules?"

Merle cut in with a grin. "What else? Make sure they stay quiet forever."

"...Them?"

"Otherwise what? Wait for them to go back and bring people to wipe us out?"

Crane closed his mouth and nodded.

As for not being able to bring himself to do it... Hah. Do not forget Crane used to be a secret agent. You really think his hands are clean?