154 - The Walking Dead: Warlord of the Apocalypse (Patreon)

Beth's Question

The road and a late night had left Miana and Amy asleep long after sunrise.

Isaac, by contrast, rose clearheaded and began the routine he followed whenever circumstances allowed.

Talent mattered in martial arts, but not as much as people liked to imagine. The legends made natural ability sound mystical, as if the best fighters had simply been born beyond everyone else. In Isaac's view, persistence mattered more.

True geniuses were rare. A century might produce one Bruce Lee, someone who seemed to stand in a category of his own. Even Lee had trained relentlessly, running miles every day for years to build the legs and endurance his art demanded.

Bruce Lee had pursued a dream. Isaac trained because weakness could kill him.

That made idleness even less acceptable.

He ran along the wire fence that enclosed the farm, keeping a steady pace as the fields rolled past him. He had already completed several laps when a blonde girl waiting near the fence raised a hand.

"You're Isaac Lee, right?" she called. "I need to ask you something."

He slowed just enough to hear her. "Beth, isn't it? If you want to talk, keep up."

Beth hesitated, then started running beside him.

Sweat shone on Isaac's forehead. His hair had grown uneven on the road—long enough at the back to brush his neck, with the sides at an awkward length.

He was clean-shaven, tall, and broad through the shoulders. Beth noticed these details as she struggled to match his pace, but she had come to ask about Maggie.

Two dragon tattoos wound around his arms. Beth recognized the shapes, or thought she did, before turning her attention back to her question.

None of that answered the question troubling her.

Maggie had behaved strangely since returning with the convoy. The oversized shirt and her refusal to explain it were too much for Beth to dismiss.

Isaac reduced his pace so Beth would not have to sprint. "What did you want to ask?"

Beth drew a breath between steps. "What happened to Maggie? Why did she come home wearing a man's shirt?"

"Why ask me?" Isaac said. "Maggie was there. She knows what happened better than anyone."

Isaac had arrived at the farm fully dressed. A shirt one or two sizes larger than Maggie's could have belonged to several men in the convoy, even though Isaac stood half a head taller than Rick and Shane.

"Maggie doesn't want to tell me," Beth said. "I hoped you would." Isaac shook his head. "If she doesn't want to tell you, why would I? Ask Maggie."

Isaac increased his pace. His long strides carried him away before Beth could keep up.

Beth finally stopped, bent forward, and braced both hands on her knees. Sweat gathered at her hairline as she watched his broad back recede along the fence.

If she wanted to understand the twists in the story, she would have to ask Maggie or someone else who had been there.

Then again, perhaps she should let it go. She had only approached Isaac to try her luck; she was not desperate to know.

Beth knew the shirt belonged to Isaac because, while Maggie slept, she had shown it to Glenn. He recognized it immediately. Isaac had worn it often enough that the people in the convoy knew it well.

As long as a piece of clothing had not rotted away, nobody threw it out anymore.