TWD: Saving Merle First - Chapter 118: Just Like a Husky (Patreon)

The next morning dawned clear and cloudless. Sunlight flooded the ground, firmly announcing that the night's festivities were over.

Wade opened his eyes. Dark circles hung beneath them, and he looked anything but well rested.

Those damn Volatiles last night had been just like huskies!

One after another, they'd kept howling with boundless energy. Whether they were hungry or something else was bothering them, Wade had almost gone out to fight the lot of them.

Who the hell stayed up making noise all night? What was this, mating season?

He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and drew back the curtains to let the sunlight brighten the room.

Squinting, Wade looked toward the place where the Volatiles had appeared the night before. They had all returned to their nests, leaving no trace of themselves, as though nothing had happened.

Still, he had silently marked that area as forbidden territory. He wasn't going anywhere near it on his way out.

Annoyed or not, he wasn't about to take on an entire pack of Volatiles by himself.

That wasn't cowardice. He was simply choosing his mission objectives strategically.

After breakfast, Wade sat down and began loading his magazines.

The first gun shop he'd searched hadn't had aluminum M4 magazines. Fortunately, civilian AR-15s and M4s both used the STANAG standard, so the black polymer PMAG magazines made for AR-15s would work in his rifle too.

More than half an hour passed before he'd loaded twenty magazines to capacity. He flexed his aching thumb and finally stopped.

He would also need to find a truck while he was out grinding experience. There was no way all the supplies in his Storage Space would fit in his pickup.

With a plan settled, Wade slid a magazine into his rifle.

"Click."

It locked in place. He worked the charging handle and chambered a round.

Once those preparations were complete, he took a few cans of food out of his Storage Space, ate, and left the room, heading toward southwestern Atlanta.

That was the industrial district, where heavy machinery, steel, building materials, and enormous warehouses were everywhere. If he could clear out a few of those warehouses, the camp might not have to worry about construction materials for a long time.

He could find a truck today, load it using his Storage Space instead of carrying everything by hand, then head back. Tomorrow, he could send people to collect the truck.

Wade thought it over. The plan sounded good enough.

After descending the stairs, he returned his knife to its sheath, raised his M4, and set off at a jog.

He used the same tactics as before. Small groups of walkers got cleared out quickly. If there were too many and he risked being surrounded, he ran.

Don't approach, don't refuse, and don't get attached. The classic behavior of a shameless player.

He continued in fits and starts, spent casings clattering onto the pavement. He hadn't even covered half the distance before he'd earned another Attribute Point.

That was Atlanta for you. The locals really were wonderfully hospitable.

After exhausting his remaining magazines, Wade ducked into a house to reload and spent the new Attribute Point on Perception.

[Perception: 7 → 8]

The familiar sensation washed over him. His awareness of the surrounding environment sharpened again. His ability to track moving and stationary objects, his hearing, and the distance and precision with which he picked up subtle changes all improved.

Why not put the point into Strength? Because he was fighting primarily as a marksman now, and more Strength wouldn't help him nearly as much.

Half an hour later, his magazines were full again. Wade picked up his rifle and resumed his journey.

Before reaching the place where he'd parked his pickup, he earned yet another Attribute Point. He put that one into Perception as well.

[Perception: 8 → 9]

The familiar feeling returned. Wade let out a breath, only to feel that strange premonition of standing on the verge of some great threshold rising in his mind again.

He grimaced, unsure what to make of it. He pushed the feeling aside and kept walking.

By the time he reached his pickup, he'd only just caught his breath when a strange laugh drifted out of the stairwell nearby. It sounded like the rambling giggle of a madman.

"Heh-heh-heh..."

Wade instantly raised his rifle, pointing it toward the dark stairwell where the noise had come from.

Within two seconds, the laughter stopped. Then came a series of dull, rhythmic thuds, as though something heavy kept landing on the ground.

Wade narrowed his eyes. Whatever was in there, he no longer thought it was some deranged survivor. It sounded like a mutated walker.

Those weren't footsteps. They sounded more like something landing after a jump.

Something created by the Harran virus?

A Screamer?

But those things didn't move like that, did they?

As he considered the possibilities, the thuds stopped, and that awful laugh sounded again.

"Heh-heh-heh..."

Wade's finger settled on the trigger. This time there was much less echo. Whatever it was had reached the stairwell's exit.

Where was it?

A piercing chill suddenly shot up his spine to the back of his head, like a needle jabbing into his nerves.

Something was behind him!

Wade twisted at the waist and swung his rifle around. Just as the muzzle turned, he saw a dark figure dropping from the second floor straight toward his head like a springing monkey.

His eyes hardened, and he squeezed the trigger repeatedly.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

A rapid succession of shots tore the strange walker into several large pieces while it was still in midair.

Wade didn't pause. He spun back toward the darkness of the stairwell. An identical walker darted out and leaped high into the air.

"Pfft!"

A 5.56mm NATO round smashed through its skull, bursting it apart like a watermelon.

Wade exhaled and cursed to himself. Now even the walkers were using military tactics?

[Killed 1 Mutated Walker, Gained 3 Experience Points]

[Killed 1 Mutated Walker, Gained 3 Experience Points]

Looking over the bodies, Wade saw that these strangely shaped mutated walkers had long limbs, though they weren't particularly thin. Their fingers were slender, tipped with moderately long claws that had a dull black sheen.

They were wearing children's clothes. Had they been children before becoming infected and mutating?

He couldn't determine their method of attack. Perhaps, like Volatiles, they used their claws to tear into prey before biting.

Remembering the close call, Wade made a note of another possibility. Whether it had been coincidence or deliberate cooperation, the creatures seemed to possess some intelligence. One had used its laughter to draw his attention while the other attacked from behind.

With his observations recorded, Wade didn't linger. He started his pickup and drove away.

Not long afterward, a piercing, heartbreaking wail echoed through the stairwell...