Magnus Vane considered following the quest marker immediately, but after a moment he decided against rushing in blind.
He drove back to the farm, found Daryl and Merle in the woods, and called them over.
Merle was already in a foul mood; only minutes earlier Magnus had watched him cave in a walker’s skull with the butt of his rifle just to burn off some anger.
“What now?” Merle asked impatiently.
“I found the motorcycles.”
“What?” Daryl, who had been silent until then, immediately snapped his head toward Magnus.
His grip tightened around the crossbow, and even his breathing became heavier.
Merle’s expression changed just as quickly, his anger giving way to a vicious grin.
“Then what the hell are we standing around for?
Let’s go get the bikes and break every bone in the bastard who took them.”
“Not yet,” Magnus replied calmly.
“The people holding them probably have numbers, maybe thirty or more.
If we walk straight in during daylight, three men against that many guns is a stupid fight.” Merle frowned and stared at him.
“You scared?”
Magnus smiled faintly.
“No.
I’m saying we go tonight.” Darkness would hide their approach, reduce the advantage of the larger group, and give them a way to retreat if things went wrong.
Even with the system, Magnus had no intention of charging into a fortified camp occupied by ten times their number.
Merle’s expression immediately improved.
“Now you’re talking.” He shrugged and slung the rifle across his shoulder.
“You’re the boss.
I’ll play it your way.” Without another word, he headed back into the woods, probably looking for another walker to take his frustration out on.
Daryl watched his brother leave before looking at Magnus.
“Don’t take it personal.
Merle’s just…
Merle.” There was an unusual seriousness in his voice, as though he genuinely didn’t want Merle’s attitude creating trouble between them.
Daryl had initially stayed close to Magnus because he had saved his brother, but over the past few days that obligation had started turning into real trust.
Magnus gave a small smile.
“I don’t take much of what Merle says personally.” The Dixon brothers reminded him more of a pair of half-wild hunting dogs than ordinary camp followers; demanding perfect manners from either of them would be pointless.
From the beginning, Magnus had wanted their respect rather than blind obedience.
So far, things were moving in the right direction.
After Daryl went back to join Merle, Magnus returned to their small camp.
Andrea and Amy were sorting supplies beside the SUV when he approached.
“I need the car one more night,” Magnus told Andrea.
“Once we’re finished, you can have it back.” Andrea studied him for a moment, then handed over the keys without arguing.
Magnus chose the blue tent, crawled inside, and went to sleep while the sisters watched him curiously.
He intended to rest while he could instead of starting a night operation already exhausted.
By the time someone finally kicked the side of his boot, darkness had completely settled over the farm.
“Hey,” Daryl’s voice came from outside.
“Get up.
Time to go.”
Magnus opened his eyes and sat up, feeling surprisingly refreshed.
Daryl and Merle were already fully armed and waiting beside the tent, both staring at him with barely contained impatience.
He rolled his shoulders, grabbed his Horse-Bone Sledgehammer, and stepped outside.
“Let’s move.
I’m driving.”
The farm was almost completely dark, with Hershel’s household already settled for the night.
The orange quest marker, however, remained perfectly visible in Magnus’s field of vision, glowing in the distance like a beacon.
The three men climbed into the SUV, and Magnus followed the marker until they were roughly five hundred yards from the objective.
Then he pulled off the road and shut down the engine.
“We here?” Merle asked, licking his lips.
“Close enough,” Magnus replied as he opened the door.
“From here we walk.”
At night, even a normal car engine sounded ridiculously loud.
If Magnus drove all the way to the target, whoever was guarding the place would hear them long before they arrived.
A group large enough to steal vehicles and maintain a fortified base almost certainly posted sentries after dark.
Magnus wasn’t about to announce their arrival.
The three moved in single file through the darkness, keeping low and using abandoned structures for cover.
After passing a thoroughly looted supermarket, they finally saw the compound sitting behind it.
A heavy metal gate blocked the entrance, concrete walls surrounded the property, and coils of barbed wire had been stretched across the top.
Dim lights glowed inside.
Magnus crouched and exchanged a look with Daryl and Merle.
Both men nodded.
The three moved to the base of the wall, where Daryl and Merle positioned themselves beneath Magnus.
Each grabbed one of his boots and lifted, raising him high enough to peer over the concrete.
Magnus carefully exposed only his eyes and scanned the courtyard.
A row of vehicles had been parked inside.
Then he saw them.
The two missing motorcycles were sitting in one corner.
Magnus almost laughed.
Someone had covered both bikes in ugly spray-painted designs and crude graffiti, completely changing their appearance.
His eyes dropped toward Daryl and Merle beneath him, and from their expressions alone, Magnus could tell the thieves had just made the situation much worse for themselves.
He silently offered whoever had done it his condolences.
Magnus lowered himself and gestured toward the wall.
“I’m going over first.
Follow when I signal.” He raised the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer and used the handle to lift part of the barbed wire away from the top.
With enough space cleared, Magnus pulled himself up, swung over the concrete, and dropped quietly into the courtyard.
Aside from a faint puff of dust beneath his boots, he landed without making enough noise to draw attention.
He moved forward carefully, keeping close to the building.
Just before turning one corner, Magnus caught movement and immediately pulled back against the wall.
A heavyset man wearing a hood stood only a short distance away, fighting to stay awake while holding a rifle across his chest.
Magnus waited several seconds, then quietly returned toward the wall.
He tapped lightly against the concrete.
A few moments later, Daryl and Merle slipped through the gap Magnus had created in the wire and landed beside him.
Magnus pointed toward the corner, then tapped two fingers against Daryl’s crossbow.
Daryl understood immediately.
Merle did too.
Nearby, the sentry—Dave—shook his head hard and blinked several times.
Realizing he had nearly fallen asleep standing up, he straightened and scanned the courtyard.
Nothing seemed wrong, and after a moment he relaxed.
“Next supply run, I’m going with them,” he muttered.
“Anything’s better than standing around here all damn night.”
“Bad news.”
Dave froze.
A quiet voice came from behind him.
“You’re not getting another supply run.”
He tried to turn while bringing his rifle around, but a crossbow bolt struck him before he could finish the movement.
Magnus stepped forward immediately, catching Dave from behind and covering his mouth before the body could make any sound.
Merle smoothly caught the rifle as it slipped from the man’s hands.
“Easy,” Magnus whispered as Dave weakened in his grip.
“It’ll be over in a second.”
The sentry went limp.
Daryl crouched beside the body, planted one boot near the head, and carefully pulled his bolt free.
Once he finished, both Dixon brothers looked toward Magnus with the same cold anticipation.
Magnus said nothing and simply pointed across the courtyard.
Their motorcycles.
Daryl and Merle moved over immediately.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
They ran their hands over the bikes, staring at the spray paint covering the tanks and bodywork as though somebody had vandalized a family member.
Merle’s hand began trembling, and his expression twisted into something dangerous.
He raised the stolen rifle and started toward the building.
Magnus and Daryl grabbed him at the same time.
Merle glared at both of them.
Daryl pointed toward the motorcycles, then toward the compound’s main gate before slowly shaking his head.
Charging inside would only wake thirty armed people, and getting the bikes back would become much harder once bullets started flying.
Merle clearly hated the logic, but even he understood it.
Magnus placed one hand on each brother’s shoulder.
Then he pointed toward the vehicles parked throughout the courtyard.
More specifically, their fuel tanks.
Daryl followed his finger.
Merle did too.
For a moment, all three men remained silent.
Then their expressions changed at exactly the same time.
Three nearly identical smiles appeared in the darkness.
They had all thought of the same thing.
[Community Goals Ongoing]