A Shot in the Forest

Deep in the forest, beside a narrow creek, lay the bleeding body of a deer. Just a few steps away, someone was lying flat on the ground, shaken.

"Are you freakin' crazy? You trying to kill me?!"

Daryl scrambled to his feet, fury written all over his face. He stormed toward the overweight man who had just emerged from the trees, grabbed him by the collar, and shouted, "Didn't you see there were people here? You fired without checking?!"

He wasn't just angry—he was furious. If Jason hadn't shouted just seconds earlier, Daryl would have been hit by the bullet that had passed through the deer's body.

"I—I didn't know anyone was out here!"

Otis, the man in question, was visibly terrified. He waved his hands frantically, his voice cracking as he stammered, "I haven't seen a living soul in months! I swear I didn't mean to—honest!"

He wasn't lying. Other than the folks on the farm, Otis hadn't seen anyone for ages—and certainly not in this stretch of woods.

Jason stepped forward then, placing a hand on Daryl's shoulder to calm him down. He had a pretty good idea who this guy was. In the original timeline he remembered, this man—Otis—was the one who accidentally shot Carl. And now, he'd almost killed Daryl. If Jason hadn't recognized the moment in time… this could have ended very differently.

"I really am sorry," Otis said, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. If this was before... I'd be facing serious jail time. I didn't know..."

"We'll take your word for it," Jason said, his tone cool but firm. "But you still owe my buddy an apology."

"Absolutely." Otis quickly turned and bowed his head to Daryl. "I'm sorry, man. Really. I swear, I never would've pulled the trigger if I knew you were there."

Daryl didn't respond. He was still breathing heavily, his expression unreadable. It wasn't easy to forgive someone who nearly killed you—even if it was an accident.

Jason changed the subject. "You work on that farm, right?" he asked, pointing to Otis's worn-out uniform. "Can you tell me how to get there from here?"

Otis, still looking shaken and maybe trying to make amends, gave them the directions. As it turned out, the map they were using was more than a decade out of date. The forest had grown in since then, and the roads had been rerouted. No wonder the path had vanished.

Armed with the new directions, Jason pulled out his walkie-talkie and radioed Rick. "We've got a way in. Bring the convoy to these coordinates. We'll meet you at the farm."

With Daryl beside him, Jason followed Otis across a meadow, out of the forest and toward the promise of real shelter.

Soon, the three of them emerged into the open, and there it was—an actual farm, standing intact like a relic from the old world. Wooden fences, horses, a stable, and the warm scent of hay in the air.

The convoy wasn't far behind. In the distance, the sound of engines broke the quiet.

"You…" Otis turned suddenly, eyes wide as he spotted the approaching vehicles. "You didn't say there were this many people."

Jason smirked. "You didn't ask."

He raised both hands in mock innocence. "Hey, you brought us here. Not my fault if your neighbors get nervous. Besides, we're not here to cause trouble—we just need a place to rest for a bit."

Of course, what Jason really meant was: I came here for Maggie.

The sound of approaching vehicles drew attention from inside the farmhouse. The front door creaked open, and people began stepping outside to see what was going on...