[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 418 - Scouting Terminus

"Last time we didn't get to go because we had to bring Rebekah back."

"This time, I'm definitely twisting their heads off one by one and using them as bowling balls!"

Merle rubbed his hands together.

"No."

Leon shook his head.

"What a waste."

"Having them join us is so much better."

Shawn understood immediately.

Turn those living, breathing people into Mutants Leon could control at will.

"You mean..."

Shawn licked his lips.

"Contaminate their water supply?"

"Bingo."

Leon snapped his fingers.

"I just need to find their drinking water source, and then... invite them to have a drink."

"Once they swallow it, they'll find they've become my most loyal soldiers."

"Victory without bloodshed."

"Fuck."

Merle got it. Far from finding it cruel, he let out an excited whistle.

"Boss, you're a goddamn genius!"

"This is way more fucking interesting than just gunning them down!"

"Low risk. Easy money."

Abraham cracked a wide grin.

"I like it."

Leon was satisfied with their reactions.

"But," his gaze swept over each of them, "we can't just force this."

"We need to scout Terminus first. Especially where their water source is."

"To be safe, I need a few people with me."

His eyes moved across the group. He started calling names.

"Ten people. That's enough."

"Everyone else stays at the prison and keeps building the walls."

"Get ready. We move out in 10 minutes."

......

3 modified Military Humvees followed the abandoned railroad tracks east.

Outside the windows, the Georgia wilderness peeled away behind them.

Every now and then, a lone Walker stood in the distance, motionless, likely sunk into its dormant state.

Before long, the billboards appeared along the railway line.

[THOSE WHO ARRIVE AT TERMINUS SURVIVE]

The vehicles stopped inside a small patch of woods.

Terminus was still roughly 3 kilometers out, according to the map. Beyond the tree line was open ground. Driving through it would make them live targets.

Leon grabbed his binoculars and jumped out. The others climbed out after him and fanned out, covering the perimeter.

Through the lenses, Terminus came into full view.

It was a massive compound. An abandoned train station at its core, reinforced with countless shipping containers and old rail cars welded and stacked into walls. A ring of high chain-link fencing wrapped the whole thing tight. It looked impregnable.

4 watchtowers rose at the corners of the compound.

All empty.

The entire place was dead quiet.

But Leon knew exactly what lived underneath that quiet.

His gaze swept the compound fast, hunting for one thing in particular.

He found it near the center. A massive cylinder, painted in red and white stripes.

Water tower. There it is.

"How does it look?"

Rick kept his voice low.

Leon lowered the binoculars and handed them over.

"Not good. They're not drawing from a river. They depend on that tower for transport."

"See for yourself."

Rick took the binoculars and looked.

He saw it immediately. A standalone tower. Completely self-contained.

To add anything to it, they'd have to get inside the compound and reach the tower directly.

"But this place looks... like nobody's home?"

Leon shook his head.

"There are people. We get closer and read the situation first."

"We just can't walk over there like this."

"Same as always."

......

Half an hour later.

A stomach-turning stench hung over the hillside.

Merle smeared Walker guts across his arms and chest, cursing the whole time.

"God fucking damn, this smell..."

"Doesn't matter how many times I do this. It still hits like a truck."

"Boss, can we grab a fresher one next time? This particular guy's got a real strong personality."

Glenn held his breath so hard his face had gone green.

He didn't feel like he was in disguise. He felt like he was being marinated.

Leon didn't acknowledge either of them.

He worked methodically, coating every inch of himself with the stuff that masks a living person's scent. Then he slowly adjusted his posture. His steps went stiff. His torso tilted forward at that familiar dead angle.

The others fell in line, copying him.

They'd done this enough times. It was second nature now.

Within minutes, a shuffling column of ten "corpses" lurched out of the tree line, drifting into a loose pack of Walkers wandering nearby, blending in without a word.

Leon steered a small cluster of Walkers out ahead, nudging them toward the Terminus gate in a slow, brainless drift, while keeping his people hanging back.

20-odd Walkers, maybe. Not even worth calling a herd. For a fortified compound with walls and wire, it barely registered as background noise.

As expected.

The watchtowers were empty. Not a shadow.

At the main gate, 2 men stood with cigarettes hanging from their lips, leaning against the fence, talking. The straggling dead shuffling toward them didn't earn so much as a second glance. They couldn't even be bothered to raise their guns.

They only lifted their eyes occasionally to track the rotting shapes getting closer. The look on their faces was pure, easy contempt.

Leon relaxed.

He let the lead Walkers drift off to one side, then raised one hand in a slow forward gesture.

Merle and the others caught it instantly. Every one of them leaned deeper into the performance, shoulders rolling, limbs dragging, shuffling forward in that loose-jointed Walker gait like they were going for a goddamn Academy Award.

As they closed the distance, the inside of Terminus came into focus.

Rows of shipping containers converted into low-slung housing. In the open yard between them, people moved through their routines. Someone hanging laundry. Someone crouched over a tool, working at it with both hands. A cluster of women off to one side, sorting through what looked like food supplies.

On the surface, it had the look of a functioning community. Orderly. Self-sufficient. Stable.

But Shawn's brow pulled tighter and tighter.

Something's wrong.

Too quiet.

Too clean.

And the faces. That was the thing that really got to him.

These people didn't look like survivors. Survivors had a certain edge to them, a rawness that never quite went away.

These people looked scared.

What the hell were they scared of?

There's something seriously wrong here.

Shawn nudged Leon with his elbow, barely moving, and let the words grind out through his Walker-slack throat in a low, mangled rasp.

"Something's off, Leon."

"I count at least 50 people. I can see armed sentries tucked into corners all over the place."

"With just us, forcing our way in is the same as dying."

He pulled back a half-step, eyes sharp behind the dead-man act.

"Maybe we fall back. Go get the rest of our people and just roll right over this place."

"Mow every last one of them down. Clean and done."

Leon let out a low, wet growl from the back of his throat. Walker-standard.

"No."

"The losses would be too high."

Merle snorted.

"Boss, since when did you go soft?"

"These bastards eat people. What exactly are we showing mercy for?"

Leon turned his head and cut Merle a flat look.

"I'm talking about their losses."

"Those 50-plus people are all top-grade labor."

"Killing them all would be a waste."

Right then.

An engine rumble rolled in from down the tracks.

Here we go.

A beat-up pickup truck came around the bend, a small cargo van trailing close behind, both rolling in from the far end of the rail line.

They pulled up at the Terminus gate and stopped.

Several men dropped out of the vehicles, road-dusted and worn, but moving with energy.

"We're back!"

The one out front, a big man with a heavy beard, threw his voice toward the compound.

A moment later, a man appeared from inside.

Robert. The head of Terminus.

"How'd it go?" Robert walked toward them, smiling.

"Not bad."

The bearded man slapped the side of the pickup bed.

"Good haul. Food, some medical supplies."

He stepped to the cargo van and hauled open the rear doors.

3 people were packed inside.

2 men and a woman.

They looked wrecked. Hollow-eyed from hunger, moving slow. Their faces carried the particular daze of people who had been through something bad and couldn't quite believe they'd made it out.

"They spotted our signs on the tracks and followed them in."

The bearded man gestured toward the three.

"Welcome to Terminus."

Robert's face opened into the warmest, most genuine smile a man could produce. He spread his arms wide and pulled all 3 of them into a long embrace.

"Don't worry. You're safe here."

"We have food. Water. Warm beds."

He turned back toward the compound and raised his voice.

"Someone get out here!"

A heavyset middle-aged woman came out carrying a plate of roast meat, steam curling off it, the smell reaching clear across the yard.

"Come on, kids. Eat first."

"Look at you all, you're starving."

The 3 newcomers stared at that plate and forgot how to move. One of the men started crying, just standing there, tears running down his face.

They took the meat and tore into it. Heads down, both hands, shoving it in, mumbling their thanks between mouthfuls.

The whole scene looked so warm, so human, so genuinely moving.

Like something straight out of a fucking movie.

➤ Next: The Unlucky Newcomers