Trouble at Camp

To improve the camp's defenses, Jason, Rick, Shane, and the others decided to build some simple barricades nearby.At least that way, if zombies showed up, they'd be slowed down long enough for everyone to react.

Fortunately, a dense forest bordered the camp.It was easy work: cut down small trees and lash them horizontally between standing trunks.Since zombies didn't duck or dodge obstacles, even a low barrier could stop them in their tracks.

When it came time for everyone to pitch in, however, Ed immediately started complaining.

"Why should I have to do all this work?" he muttered, stomping back to his tent like a spoiled child.

Jason, hearing this, dropped what he was doing, his face darkening with anger.He stormed back to camp, found Ed's tent—and kicked it over without hesitation.

"Ouch!"Inside, Ed tumbled over in a heap, dazed and tangled in canvas.

"Get out here!" Jason barked.

He grabbed Ed by the collar and hauled him upright, his voice like thunder."Everyone else is working their asses off, and you're in here napping? You think this is your living room?Let me tell you something—if you don't work, you don't stay.You want food? You want shelter? Then earn it, you worthless sack of shit."

Jason's anger radiated off him like heat.Guys like Ed only understood one thing: force.If you didn't put your foot down hard, they'd rot the group from the inside out.

"I'll work, I'll work!"Ed was so scared he was practically shaking, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Rick and Shanearrived just in time to stop Jason from decking him.

"Move it, Ed," Rick ordered sharply. "Before you really get hurt."

Jason scowled but backed off, muttering under his breath.He wasn't doing this for himself.It was for Carol and her daughter Sophia.If not for them, he would've thrown Ed to the zombies a long time ago.

"What's the point of getting angry at trash like that?" Rick said quietly, clapping Jason on the shoulder."At least now he's too scared to hit Carol or Sophia. That's something."

Jason's eyes stayed cold."If he ever touches them again, I'll kill him myself."

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Daryl moved silently through the trees, his crossbow raised.Up ahead, a fat deer grazed peacefully—an easy target.

He exhaled slowly, sighting down the bolt for a clean shot to the lungs.

Plop!

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a zombie burst out of the brush, startling the deer into a mad dash for safety.

"You piece of shit!" Daryl cursed.

Without missing a beat, he fired.The bolt whistled through the air and buried itself in the zombie's skull.

Daryl jogged over, yanked his bolt free with a wet sound, and wiped it clean on the zombie's ragged clothes.He stared wistfully in the direction the deer had fled and sighed.

Canned beans again tonight.

Grumbling under his breath, Daryl radioed back to camp."I found a walker in the woods. Y'all stay sharp. They're out here."

The bad news was, there was never just one zombie.Their mottled, bark-like skin could blend into the forest, making them easy to miss—until it was too late.

Back at camp, Dale stood atop the RV, keeping watch with his telescope.He slowly scanned the tree line, then the road beyond.

Something in the distance caught his eye.He froze, adjusting the focus.

His heart started to pound.