The engine of a Dodge Challenger roared down the empty highway as Merle Dixon drove with one hand and held a bottle of whiskey in the other.
He leaned toward the open window and let out a wild yell while the car tore along the road toward the quarry outside Atlanta.
Magnus Vane sat in the passenger seat and quietly tightened his seat belt.
Surviving a walker bite only to die because Merle flipped a muscle car would be a ridiculous ending.
Fortunately, Merle’s driving was much better than his behavior suggested.
Aside from several rough turns and a few moments that made Magnus grip the seat harder, they reached the quarry camp without crashing.
Several armed figures immediately came out when they heard the engine, and one lean man carrying a crossbow ran toward the arriving car as soon as he recognized the driver.
Magnus didn’t need an introduction to know who it was.
“Merle!” Daryl shouted as the Challenger nearly swung too close to him.
He jumped back and stabbed an angry finger through the air.
“You trying to run me over, asshole?” His voice was furious, but Magnus still caught the relief in his eyes before Daryl looked away.
Merle stumbled out of the car laughing, whiskey bottle still in hand.
“Quit bitching.
I’m back, ain’t I?” He grabbed Daryl and slapped him across the shoulder while the younger Dixon immediately shoved him away.
Merle only laughed harder before pointing toward Magnus.
“Hey, baby brother, meet Magnus Vane.
He’s the bastard who got me off that roof.”
Daryl looked Magnus over from head to toe, his eyes pausing briefly on the combat uniform and the massive Horse-Bone Sledgehammer strapped across his back.
After a moment, he gave a stiff nod.
“Thanks, Magnus.” The words sounded awkward coming from him, but Magnus understood what they meant.
“Your brother helped me afterward too.
Nobody owes anybody.”
“Magnus!”
Rick Grimes hurried over from deeper inside the camp, surprise appearing on his face the moment he recognized him.
That surprise quickly became caution, and Rick instinctively moved Carl behind him.
Shane noticed the movement as well and stepped closer, one hand resting near his sidearm.
Magnus immediately understood why.
Rick had watched him get bitten.
“It wasn’t a bite,” Magnus said before Rick could ask.
“After you left, I got back into the tank long enough to check it properly.
The walker tore open an injury that was already there, and I panicked when I saw the blood.” He opened the side of his combat uniform and showed the wound, which had already developed a thick scab after the system treatment.
Rick stepped closer and examined it.
There was no spreading discoloration, fever, or obvious sign of infection.
Some of the tension finally left his face, though his expression still carried guilt.
“I’m sorry.
I thought you were—”
“Forget it,” Magnus interrupted, giving him a light pat on the shoulder.
“I thought the same thing.”
He then looked toward the boy standing behind Rick.
“You planning to introduce me?” Rick’s expression softened immediately as he guided Carl forward.
“My son, Carl.
I was in the hospital when everything started, and I finally found my family here today.” Magnus nodded toward the boy.
“Magnus Vane.
Nice to meet you.”
The tension around them slowly faded as everyone accepted that Magnus wasn’t infected.
Daryl had Merle back, Rick had reunited with Lori and Carl, and Magnus had somehow returned from Atlanta alive.
In a world where people disappeared every day, simply seeing everyone make it back felt like a victory.
Together, they headed deeper into the quarry camp.
After introductions, Magnus was quickly accepted as another member of the group.
The combat uniform helped convince people that he knew how to fight, even though he made it clear that he wasn’t actually part of the Army.
Glenn was especially surprised to see him alive after the chaos around the tank, but Magnus gave him the same explanation he had given Rick.
By the end of the day, nobody pressed him further.
The following evening, most of the camp gathered around a fire.
Rick sat beside Lori with Carl between them, while Glenn, Andrea, Amy, Dale, Shane, T-Dog, Daryl, Merle, Carol, Sophia, and the others relaxed nearby.
Ed was the only major absence, still recovering in his tent after Shane beat him for abusing Carol earlier in the day.
Magnus had deliberately made no effort to invite him.
Carl kept staring at Magnus from across the fire.
More accurately, he was staring at the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer.
“What kind of bone is that?” Carl finally asked.
“Carl!” Lori immediately pulled him closer and gave Magnus an apologetic look.
Magnus simply waved it off.
“It’s fine.
He’s curious.” Instead of answering, though, Magnus stood and walked away from the fire.
When he returned, he was carrying several firearms and boxes of ammunition.
Rick recognized them immediately.
“That’s the bag I dropped in Atlanta.” Magnus lowered the weapons near the fire.
“Most of it.
I traded part of the haul and used some ammunition getting out of the city.
Split the rest among people who know how to use it.”
Everyone’s attention immediately shifted toward the weapons.
In the current world, guns meant security, and the camp had far more reason to value them than it would have only weeks earlier.
Magnus looked around at the people illuminated by the fire and silently counted the faces he remembered from the show.
Many of them were supposed to die sooner or later.
Glenn.
Merle.
Lori.
Shane.
Amy.
And many others.
Magnus knew the attack that was supposed to hit the quarry camp that night.
He also knew Ed would be among the first to die.
Magnus had no intention of warning him.
Since he had joined this camp, he might as well start changing the things he could.
Magnus tightened his grip on the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer resting beside him.
He had spent years working as a butcher in his old life, and now that experience had become useful in an entirely different way.
If the story really had to become a bloodbath, he would rather decide what deserved to be cut down than simply watch everything happen the same way.
Click.
Magnus’s expression changed instantly.
The sound was faint, but it didn’t belong with the fire or the quiet conversation around them.
He suddenly stood and reached for the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer.
Everyone nearby went silent.
Merle reacted first, stumbling upright despite being half-drunk.
Daryl immediately raised his crossbow, while Rick grabbed a Remington shotgun.
Shane moved closer to Lori and Carl as the others reached for whatever weapons were nearby.
“What is it?” Rick asked.
Magnus raised one finger to his lips.
“Shh.”
He slowly moved toward a dark patch of brush near the edge of camp.
Using the sledgehammer head, Magnus pushed aside several branches.
A rotting face suddenly lunged out of the darkness with its teeth snapping.
Magnus swung.
The first strike smashed the walker sideways, and two more blows crushed its skull into the ground.
Golden light flashed across his vision.
[Level Increased: Lv.2 → Lv.3]
[Skill Point Acquired: 1]
[Skill Point Available for Allocation]
At the same moment, low groans began rising from the darkness around the camp.
Then came a scream from farther away.
Carol’s face went white.
“Ed!”
Magnus barely looked toward the sound before immediately putting the new skill point into Strength.
[Strength Increased]
[Strength Lv.3 / 10 — Milk Drinker]
Heat surged through his body as his physical power increased again.
Magnus raised the Horse-Bone Sledgehammer and looked toward the shadows surrounding the camp.
More walkers were coming.
The battle had begun.