The noon sun blazed down, scorching the earth.But the two figures standing outside the barn seemed oblivious to the heat — both lost in their own heavy thoughts.
Jason turned to Maggie, frowning slightly."How many zombies did your father lock up in there?" he asked.
Maggie hesitated, then said, "Maybe... a few dozen?"
She wasn't sure.She had never counted.It had always been her father and Otis who captured the walkers and tossed them into the barn.Maggie's only role had been throwing food to them through the slats — never looking too closely.
Jason sneered."A few dozen?" he snorted. "That's more than enough to flatten your entire farm."
In his mind, the people here — kind, soft, untrained — wouldn't last five minutes if those things got loose.
They'd been lucky catching zombies in the woods before — with the trees for cover and the slow movement of the infected, Hershel and Otis had managed it without injury.
But if those walkers ever burst out into open ground, onto the farm...There'd be no cover.No escape.Only death.
Squeak...
A tiny, grating sound made Jason stiffen.
He narrowed his eyes at the barn doors — the screws on either side were loosening, shifting slightly under the constant pounding from inside.It wouldn't be long before the doors broke down.
Jason's face hardened.
"Go talk to your father," he said sharply to Maggie."Tell him to make a decision — fast. If he doesn't, I will."
Without waiting for her response, Jason grabbed his walkie-talkie and issued rapid orders:
"Rick, Shane— bring gasoline.Glenn, Moore — grab shovels and tools."
When they arrived, Jason pointed ten meters away from the barn."Dig a firebreak here," he commanded."Rick, Shane— soak the barn walls with gasoline.Don't light anything yet. We wait."
If Hershel refused to act, Jason was ready to burn the whole barn down — walkers and all.
Glenn stuck his shovel into the ground and glanced at the barn, puzzled."What's in there?" he asked."Why are we burning it?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Jason said grimly.
His gaze never left the barn.
The sun sank lower.The minutes crawled by.
But still — no sign of Hershel.
Inside the farmhouse, Maggie was locked in a bitter argument with her father.
"How long are you going to keep hesitating?" she cried."I don't want to be lied to anymore!"
Her voice shook with emotion as she pointed furiously toward the barn."You told me they were just sick. That you could cure them.But you lied! They're dead, Dad — they're not people anymore! They're monsters! They eat people — they turn others into them!"
"Stop," Hershel said weakly. "Let me... think about it."
"What more is there to think about?" Maggie shouted.Her hand slammed down on the kitchen table, rattling the framed photos scattered there."I don't want to see my friends — my family — turned into monsters!I want them to rest. That's what they deserve."
The photo frame toppled over.Hershel instinctively reached for it.As he looked at the smiling faces captured inside — memories of better times — something inside him cracked.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then finally, with trembling hands, he set the photo upright...And whispered,"Let them rest in peace."