“I’ll take you back to camp,” Merle said with a dark grin, adjusting the rifle he had taken from Rick’s gun bag.
“And T-Dog better have a damn good explanation for leaving me chained to that roof.” Magnus Vane walked ahead of him and gave a slight nod, privately admitting that Merle Dixon really was built for this kind of world.
The man had almost cut off his own hand minutes earlier, yet the moment he got a gun back, he was already thinking about revenge.
Merle was reckless, aggressive, and difficult to control, but that same attitude made him useful when things turned ugly.
Daryl was different, quieter and more cautious, but Magnus remembered that the younger Dixon would become just as dangerous in his own way.
Whatever kind of childhood the brothers had survived, it had left both of them unusually prepared for the end of civilization.
In a world filled with walkers, people like them had an advantage.
After leaving the department store, Magnus grabbed an Atlanta street map and unfolded it over the hood of an abandoned car.
“I’d like to head straight back to your camp too, but I’ve got something I need to handle first.” He glanced at the infection timer in the corner of his vision, which was already closing in on one hour.
If he wasted too much time, reaching the camp wouldn’t matter.
Merle looked at the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer strapped across Magnus’s back and laughed.
“What, you planning to cave somebody’s skull in with that giant bone hammer?” Magnus ignored the comment and tapped a nearby location on the map.
“I need antibiotics, and there’s a group holding a nursing home nearby.
I’m going to trade some of the guns for medicine, but I want you covering me in case they decide stealing everything is easier.”
Merle looked down at the gun bag, then pulled out a scoped rifle and worked the action with a sharp click.
A grin spread across his face.
“What the hell are we waiting for?” Magnus folded the map and started moving.
There wasn’t enough time left to argue.
About ten minutes later, Magnus and Merle reached the area around the Atlanta Nursing Home.
The infection countdown had officially dropped below an hour, and Magnus could feel the pressure building with every passing second.
He stopped behind an abandoned vehicle and looked at Merle.
“Stay hidden and watch me.
If they trade, do nothing.
If things go bad, cover me and get out instead of trying to fight the whole place.”
Merle rolled his eyes.
“You always talk this much?
Sound like some damn Boy Scout leader.” Magnus gave him a flat look until Merle finally waved him off.
“Yeah, yeah.
Trade first, shoot later.
I got it.” Once Merle disappeared into position, Magnus picked up the partially filled gun bag and walked toward the nursing home alone.
“Stop right there!” a man shouted from above as Magnus came within about fifteen feet of the entrance.
“One more step and we open fire!” Magnus stopped immediately and looked up, spotting a gun aimed directly at him from behind the barricade.
He slowly lowered the duffel onto the pavement and kicked it forward.
“Relax.
I’m here to trade.
I want to speak to Guillermo.”
The lookout studied Magnus’s combat uniform before disappearing from sight.
Less than two minutes later, the entrance opened and several armed men stepped outside, with Guillermo at the front holding a silver handgun.
Magnus recognized him immediately and kept both hands visible.
Guillermo nudged the gun bag with his shoe, glanced at the weapons and ammunition inside, then looked back at Magnus.
“I don’t remember inviting anybody over,” Guillermo said.
“Especially the Army.” Magnus shook his head.
“The military’s basically gone around here.
The uniform doesn’t mean much anymore.” Guillermo’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his attention quickly returned to the bag.
“Then what do you want?”
“Antibiotics,” Magnus replied.
“I don’t need much.
You give me enough to treat an infection, and you keep the guns and ammunition.” Several of Guillermo’s men exchanged looks, clearly interested in the offer.
Guillermo, however, raised his pistol slightly and studied Magnus.
“Why should I trade?
What stops us from taking the bag and sending you on your way?”
A few men behind him laughed.
Magnus noticed a brief reflection from a rooftop in the distance and immediately knew Merle already had Guillermo in his scope.
He let out a slow breath and smiled faintly.
“Because my partner has a rifle trained on this conversation right now.
If you try taking the bag, somebody is going down before you even figure out where he is.”
The laughter stopped instantly.
Several men began scanning the nearby rooftops and windows, but Magnus kept his hands raised.
“Nobody needs to die.
I brought something you need, and you have something I need.
That’s all this is.” Guillermo’s expression hardened.
“Tell your man to show himself.”
“No.”
Magnus nodded toward the duffel.
“You’ve got elderly people inside who can’t defend themselves.
Guns make protecting them easier.
I’m not asking for your food, shelter, or all your medicine.
Just antibiotics.”
Guillermo’s expression changed slightly at the mention of the residents.
He looked at Magnus for several seconds, then finally lowered his pistol.
“Wait here.” He bent down, picked up the gun bag, and disappeared back inside with two of his men.
Magnus stayed where he was and watched the infection timer continue ticking down.
Nearly five minutes passed before Guillermo returned carrying a small clear plastic bag.
“Three boxes of antibiotics,” he said, holding them out.
“Take them, and don’t make a habit of coming back here.” Magnus accepted the medicine and gave him a short nod.
“Deal’s done.
You won’t have trouble from me.”
He turned and walked away without looking back.
The people inside the nursing home were ordinary survivors trying to look dangerous enough to be left alone, and Magnus understood why they had to act that way.
Still, he couldn’t help them right now, especially with so many elderly residents unable to travel.
His first priority was staying alive.
Merle was waiting around the corner with the rifle resting across his shoulders.
“Damn,” he said with an approving whistle.
“Walking up to a whole armed crew by yourself and telling them somebody’s got a rifle on their boss?
You’ve got balls.” Magnus raised an eyebrow.
“I knew you were covering me.” Merle smirked.
“Damn right.”
Magnus immediately opened one of the antibiotic boxes and swallowed two pills.
For a few seconds, nothing happened, and then glowing text appeared across his vision.
[Antibiotics Consumed]
[Treatment Active]
The red infection icon immediately turned green.
[Treatment Duration: 00:30:00]
Magnus finally released the breath he had been holding.
Real-world antibiotics worked with the system, which meant the infection could actually be cured.
Merle noticed him staring into empty space and gave him a confused look, so Magnus quickly pointed toward the bloodstained tear near his lower back.
“Scraped myself earlier.
Didn’t want it getting infected.”
Merle shrugged.
“Whatever you say.”
The sun was already beginning to set over Atlanta as Magnus packed away the remaining antibiotics.
He adjusted the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer across his back and looked at Merle.
“Your camp still where you said it was?” Merle nodded.
“Yeah.
Quarry outside the city.”
“Good.”
Magnus glanced once at the green treatment icon in the corner of his vision.
“Then let’s go home.” 500 = +1 Chapter]
[Review Goal: 10 = +1 Chapter]