A Path Of Blood And Brains

Arthur was tending to the horses alongside Clementine when he heard a ruckus coming from the direction of the barn. He turned to her, concern flickering in his eyes. "Clem, you head on inside, alright?" He had grown quite fond of the girl since taking on the role of her guardian, never wanting her to feel alone. When she wasn't by his side, she was usually with Maggie, Beth, or Patricia.

"Okay!" she replied, her voice bubbling with a bit too much enthusiasm, likely due to her boredom with the horses.

She dashed toward the house, and Arthur approached the source of the noise with cautious steps, straining to hear what was being said among the group that had moved onto the farm.

"Oh, God! This is our lives, man!" Shane exclaimed, gesturing back toward the barn. "We either go in there or we leave. We've been talking about Fort Benning for ages!"

"We can't go," Rick replied firmly.

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane shot back, desperation creeping into his tone.

"Because my daughter is still out there," Carol interjected, her voice filled with a mother's anguish.

Shane scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Alright, listen up. I think it's time we start considering the other option."

"We're close to finding this girl. I just found her damn doll two days ago," Daryl chimed in, trying to inject some optimism into the conversation.

Shane let out a dry chuckle. "You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did. You found a doll! Let me tell you something. If she's alive out there and saw you coming, all strung out with that buck knife and your geek ears around your neck, she'd run the other way!"

Arthur shook his head and turned away, heading inside for a drink of water.

———

Arthur settled onto the porch of Hershel's house, Maggie sitting beside him, their shoulders brushing against each other. He pointed down toward the commotion. "Is that your dad down there?"

"Yeah, Shane's down there too," Maggie replied, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance.

Shane stood there, brandishing a bag of guns. "You with me, man?" he asked, handing Daryl a shotgun. "Time to grow up. It was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was safe. But now we know it ain't." He handed pistols to T-Dog and Glenn. "How about you, cowboy? You seem sensible," he said, suddenly addressing Arthur.

Arthur glanced back at Maggie, cracked his neck, and sighed as he took a gun and holstered it.

"Oh, shit," T-Dog muttered, his eyes narrowing as he heard growling in the distance. Hershel, Jimmy, and Rick were leading walkers on a leash.

Shane sprinted forward. "What is that?!" The rest of the group followed uneasily. "What is that?!" he grunted, "What the hell you doing?!" He opened the gate and positioned himself in front of them. "Are you messing with me?! You see what they're holding onto?! These things ain't sick. They ain't people! They're dead! These things right here? They're the ones that killed Amy! They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us." Shane pulled out his pistol. "Hershel, let me ask you something. Could a living, breathing person walk away from this?!" He fired three shots into the walker's chest. "That's its lungs, its heart! Why is it still coming?!"

"Shane, enough!" Rick barked, trying to rein in his friend.

"Yeah, you're right. That is enough." Shane walked up to the walker and fired a bullet into its head. "Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone! Enough living next to a barn full of things trying to kill us! Enough! Rick, it ain't like it was before! If y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you gotta fight for it!" Spittle flew from Shane's mouth as veins bulged in his neck. He was a man on the brink of collapse. He dashed for the barn door, unlocking it and removing the barricades.

Hershel crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down his face as Rick, Lori, and Glenn begged Shane to stop. The barn door swung open, and walkers poured out. Arthur stood there, holding Maggie close, shaking his head. While he understood the urgency, the way they were going about it didn't sit right with him.

One last walker staggered out of the barn. All Arthur could hear were Carol's heart-wrenching cries.

A single bullet rang out from Rick's gun, and Sophia fell to the ground. Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the weight of the moment.

He heard Beth's sobs and stood up, scanning the scene as Shane continued to hound Hershel and his family with questions. He decided to follow the chaos.

"We were out there combing these woods for her, and she was in there all along?" Shane scoffed. "You knew!"

"Leave us alone!" Maggie yelled back, as Rick and Arthur lagged behind Shane.

"Hey, Shane, just stop—" Rick grabbed Shane's arm, but Shane jerked away.

"Get your hands off me!" he shouted, pointing back at Hershel. "You knew and you kept it from us!"

"I didn't know," Hershel said, stepping onto his porch, his voice trembling.

"That's bullshit. I think y'all knew," Shane pressed.

"Otis put them all in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed," Hershel explained, desperation creeping into his voice.

"You expect me to believe that? What do I look like? An idiot?"

"I don't care what you believe!" Hershel snapped, stepping down from his porch. Rick interjected, trying to defuse the tension. "Get off my land!"

"Let me tell you something, man." Shane moved to place a hand on Hershel, but Arthur stepped up, delivering a solid punch to Shane's face. Shane fell to the ground, groaning in pain.

Arthur stood above him, a towering figure of quiet strength.

Shane swatted Rick's helping hand away as he groaned. The situation calmed slightly, with Hershel pointing at Rick as Arthur and his family retreated into the house. "I mean it... Off. My. Land." Hershel closed the door behind him with a definitive thud.

———

Hershel stormed off. According to Maggie, he used to be an alcoholic. Beth soon collapsed, clearly in shock.

The truck pulled up outside the bar, and Arthur cocked his shotgun before stepping out. Glenn held his shotgun firmly, while Rick gripped his Python.

The trio entered the bar, and Rick called out to Hershel, who sat at the bar, staring blankly into his glass. "Hershel."

"Who's with you?" Hershel asked, barely looking up.

"Arthur and Glenn," Rick replied, walking toward him while Arthur and Glenn lingered behind. "Beth collapsed. She's in some kind of shock. She needs help."

"What could I do? She needs to mourn for her mother; I robbed her of that. I see that now," Hershel muttered, taking another sip of his drink. "When I first saw you running across my field with your boy in your arms, I had little hope he would survive. He did. Even after we lost Otis. Your man Shane made it back. I was a fool, Rick, and you people saw that. My daughters deserve better than this."

Hershel poured himself another glass, the weight of his despair evident.

Rick walked back to Arthur and Glenn. "Should we just wait for him to pass out?" Glenn suggested, glancing at the distraught man.

"Just go!" Hershel suddenly exclaimed, his voice rising.

"I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe," Rick said, his tone firm.

Hershel chuckled bitterly. "Like you promised that little girl?"

Rick stepped closer. "So what's your plan? Drink yourself to death and leave your daughters alone?"

"Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm," Hershel shot back, rising to his feet. "You people are like the plague! I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!" His voice grew louder, spittle flying.

"The world was already in bad shape when we met," Rick countered, frustration creeping into his voice.

"And you take no responsibility! You're supposed to be their leader!" Hershel's anger was palpable.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Rick replied, the tension thick in the air.

Arthur could see Rick's frustration boiling over. Hershel returned to his seat, pouring himself another drink. "Come on, old man... Let's go home."

"I didn't want to believe you. When you said there was no cure. But when Shane shot Lou in the chest, and she just kept coming, I knew what an ass I'd been. And when I saw that little girl leave the barn, I knew you all knew it too. There is no hope. And you all know it now," Hershel lamented, his voice heavy with resignation.

Arthur leaned against the bar, watching Rick stare at Hershel, contemplating his next words. "Listen to me, Hershel, your girls need you. My son needs me. Arthur's daughter needs him. That's our hope. The hope that we can keep them alive." Rick placed a hand on Hershel's shoulder, trying to connect.

Just then, the doors to the bar swung open.

"Son of a bitch. We've got live ones," a skinny man chuckled, followed closely by a larger man who joined in the laughter. Arthur's gaze shifted to a third figure entering behind them.

The newcomer wore a gray hoodie, regular jeans, and brown boots, with bright ginger hair peeking out. When the man looked up, Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. The ginger-haired man mirrored his reaction.

"Sean?" "Arthur?" they both exclaimed simultaneously.