Chapter 6

  The Consequences

  Lee moved.

  He didn't think about it. It was instinct. He saw a terrified little boy about to be torn apart, and his body just reacted.

  "Duck! Move!" Lee roared.

  Lee slammed his shoulder into the rotting man grabbing Duck through the fence. The impact knocked the walker back, its grip slipping from the boy’s shirt.

  Duck scrambled backward, falling into the dirt, sobbing.

  "Run!" Lee shouted at him. "Get to your dad!"

  But the noise didn't stop.

  Behind him, a wet, tearing sound cut through the air.

  "NO! DAD! HELP!"

  Lee spun around.

  Shawn was gone. He was still on the ground, frantically trying to kick free, but the mud was too deep. The walkers had seized his legs and dragged him violently backward, wedging him tight against the massive, stationary rear tire of the tractor. He was trapped against the heavy rubber, unable to scramble away. Before he could pull himself loose, the swarm was on top of him, tearing at his clothes, his skin, and his neck.

  "SHAWN!" Lee screamed.

  He lunged toward the tractor, grabbing a piece of wood to strike the walkers, but it was too late. There were too many of them.

  BOOM.

  A deafening shotgun blast thunder-clapped across the farm.

  One of the walkers on top of Shawn exploded in a spray of dark red mist.

  BOOM.

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  Another one fell back, headless.

  Hershel Greene stood on the porch, smoke rising from the barrel of his shotgun. His face was a mask of pure terror. He racked the slide and sprinted across the yard, moving faster than an old man should be able to.

  "Get away from him!" Hershel screamed.

  He reached the tractor and fired point-blank into the last walker. The dead thing collapsed.

  Hershel dropped the gun and fell to his knees in the bloody mud. He grabbed his son’s shoulders.

  "Shawn? Shawn, look at me!"

  Shawn’s eyes were wide and glassy. His mouth opened, trying to speak, but only blood bubbled out. His neck was a ruin.

  "Dad..." Shawn gurgled.

  And then, he stopped moving.

  The farm went dead silent. The only sound was the wind in the trees and Duck crying softly in his mother’s arms near the RV.

  Lee stood frozen, his chest heaving. He looked at his hands. They were shaking. He looked at Clementine, who was standing near the barn, her hands over her mouth, staring at the body.

  Hershel didn't scream. He didn't cry. He just stared at his son for a long, agonizing moment.

  Then, he looked up.

  His eyes found Kenny first. Then Lee. The look in his eyes wasn't sadness anymore. It was hatred.

  "You..." Hershel whispered.

  He stood up slowly, grabbing his shotgun from the mud.

  "You brought them here," Hershel growled, his voice rising. "You brought this... death... to my door!"

  "Hershel, I..." Kenny started, stepping forward.

  "I'm so sorry. It happened so fast."

  "SHUT UP!" Hershel roared, leveling the shotgun at Kenny’s chest.

  Katjaa screamed and pulled Duck behind her.

  Lee instinctively stepped in front of Clementine.

  "He was a good boy!" Hershel shouted, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. "He was trying to help you! And you let him die! You let my boy die!"

  He swung the gun toward Lee. "I patched you up. I gave you food. And you let him die to save... to save..." He looked at Duck with disgust.

  "He's just a kid, Hershel," Lee said calmly, raising his hands slowly. "I couldn't let him get taken. I tried to—"

  "I don't care!" Hershel spat. "Get out. All of you."

  "Hershel, please," Kenny pleaded. "It's getting dark. We don't have anywhere to go."

  "I said GET OUT!" Hershel screamed. "Get off my land before I put you in the ground with him!"

  He racked the shotgun again. Click-clack.

  Kenny looked at Lee. The look on his face said everything. He's going to shoot us.

  "Alright," Kenny said, backing away slowly toward his pickup truck. "Alright, we're going. Katjaa, get Duck in the truck. Now."

  Lee turned to Clementine. She was trembling. He grabbed her hand.

  "Come on, Clem," he whispered. "Don't look back. Just walk."

  They piled into the cab of Kenny’s pickup truck. It was a tight squeeze. Kenny jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine roared to life.

  Kenny didn't wait. He slammed the truck into reverse, spinning gravel, and tore down the driveway.

  Lee looked out the side mirror. As they sped away, he saw Hershel fall back to his knees in the mud, cradling his son’s body as the sun went down.

  The Road

  The inside of the truck was silent.

  Duck was sitting on Katjaa’s lap, sniffing. Clementine was squeezed between Lee and the door, staring out at the passing trees.

  Kenny gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He stared straight ahead at the dark highway.

  "You did the right thing," Kenny said suddenly. His voice was thick with emotion.

  Lee looked over at him.

  "You saved my boy," Kenny said, glancing at Lee. "I... I froze. I saw it happening, and I just froze. But you moved."

  "I wish I could have saved them both," Lee said quietly, looking down at his bandage.

  "Yeah, well," Kenny sighed, his eyes hardening. "You can't save everyone, Lee. That’s just... that's how it is now. But you saved Duck. And I won't forget that."

  He looked back at the road.

  "We’re heading to Macon," Kenny said firmly. "We'll check on your family. Maybe raid that pharmacy you talked about. Get some supplies."

  Lee nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

  He put his arm around Clementine, pulling her close. She rested her head on his side, exhausted.

  "Are we safe now?" she whispered.

  Lee looked out the window. The world outside was dark, and shadows were moving in the woods.

  "I don't know, Clem," Lee said honestly. "But we're together. And we're keeping moving."

  The truck sped on into the night, leaving the farm—and Shawn—behind in the darkness.

  Hershel was furious. But be honest... Q: Did Lee make the right choice saving Duck?