[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 420 - Gerr, Living in Hell

The woman's scream was cut off as Robert shoved his hand over her mouth.

Then he pushed her toward the two men behind him.

"Wash her up good."

"I want her first tonight."

A greasy grin spread across his face. He patted her backside, satisfied with the feel of it.

"After that, split her however you want."

"Thanks, boss!"

The two men laughed, low and filthy, and hauled the struggling woman deeper into the shipping container.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

The voice cut through everything.

It was Gerr.

The grin on Robert's face went still.

He turned around. Walked toward Gerr, one step at a time.

The air went quiet.

Every man in the yard stopped what he was doing and watched. Leaned in a little.

A show was starting.

CRACK!

A hard slap across the face.

Gerr's head snapped sideways. Blood welled at the corner of his mouth instantly.

"The fuck did you just say?"

Robert grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up off the ground, eyes full of nothing but violence.

"Say it again."

"I..." Fear flickered across Gerr's face. He gritted his teeth anyway.

"I said we shouldn't—"

CRACK!

Another slap.

Harder.

Gerr's nose burst open. Warm blood ran down his chin and dripped onto his clean shirt, spreading dark and wide.

"You forget what the hell you are?"

Robert's voice was pure contempt.

"Forget your mother on her knees begging me?"

"Forget that worthless little brother of yours?"

"You think you've grown wings?"

"You actually have the nerve to lecture me?"

Gerr's body was shaking. Not from pain. From humiliation.

"I haven't forgotten."

He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"I just... I just don't want to keep doing this."

"Luring people here, then slaughtering them like pigs..."

Robert's eyes narrowed.

He let go of Gerr's collar. And smiled.

"No difference?"

"Fine."

"Since that's how you feel, I'll give you what you want."

He turned and jerked his chin at one of the men behind him.

"Bring Mary out."

Gerr's pupils shrank to a point.

"No! Robert! Don't touch her!"

He lunged forward. Two men seized his shoulders and drove him back down. He couldn't move an inch.

"Don't touch my family!"

He screamed it raw.

Robert didn't even look at him.

"Family?"

"In this place, I'm your fucking family."

A moment later, a woman in her fifties was brought out.

Mary. Gerr's mother.

She had on just a sweater, her face tight with fear and confusion.

"Gerr? What's happening?"

She saw her son's bloodied face and tried to go to him. Robert stepped in front of her and stopped her with one hand.

"It's nothing, Mary." The smile was back on his face.

"Your son's just being a little difficult."

"I need to teach him some manners."

"Sorry to say, you're the teaching aid."

He reached out as he spoke and ran his hand over the thick sweater.

"Take it off."

Mary's body locked up.

Gerr's eyes went red.

"Robert! You fucking dare—"

"Off."

Mary looked at Robert's eyes. Animal eyes. Then she looked at her son, held down and helpless. Tears ran down her face all at once.

She trembled. Reached for the hem of her sweater.

One piece at a time.

The sweater. The shirt. The bra.

Until she was standing bare in the freezing air, nothing left.

Winter wind raked across her skin like broken glass. Goosebumps rose everywhere.

The men around her stared. Every set of eyes felt like a needle going in.

"Turn around."

Robert's voice was soft. Almost gentle. Like something that lived at the bottom of a dark place.

Mary closed her eyes. Two lines of tears ran down from the corners of her wrinkled eyes, hot against her cold skin.

She turned.

"Kneel."

"Higher."

"Yeah. Just like that."

She obeyed every command. What else could she do.

"No... please, no..."

Gerr made a sound that didn't sound human anymore.

He threw himself against the two men holding him. They didn't budge. Their hands were iron. He wasn't going anywhere.

All he could do was watch. His own mother. In front of everyone. Used like a prop, degraded for sport.

"You seeing this, Gerr?"

Robert walked over to him and patted his face with the hand that had just been on Mary.

"This is what happens when you don't listen."

"Today's just a little lesson."

"If you ever bring up something I don't want to hear again..."

His voice dropped low.

"That little brother of yours, Alex? I'll have my boys take their time with him. One cut at a time. Every piece."

"As for your mom..."

He glanced at the woman still kneeling on the ground. Licked his lips.

"I'll find ten men. No, twenty. The biggest ones I've got. She won't be getting out of bed."

"I promise she'll be having so much fun she'll forget her own son's name."

Gerr broke.

The fight went out of him all at once. He sank, boneless, to the ground. A man reduced to nothing.

"I was wrong... I was wrong, Robert..."

He was crying. Begging.

"I won't do it again... I'll do whatever you say... anything you say..."

He looked at the men standing around watching and pointed at them, his hand shaking.

"Please... make them... make them stop looking..."

Robert was satisfied.

This was exactly what he wanted.

He waved his hand. The men who had been watching started moving toward Mary.

"No! Please!"

Gerr saw it happening. He shook his head, wild with it.

"I can still bring people in! I'll bring back more than ever!"

"There's a church! That priest, he promised me, he said he'd have people ready!"

"Give me one more chance! I can do it! I'll find more people, I swear!"

Robert looked at him. Let the silence stretch.

Then he raised his hand.

The men who had already started unbuckling their belts stopped.

"Fine."

He nodded, like he believed it.

"See? Wasn't that easier?"

"I didn't want it to go this far either."

He walked over to Mary, shrugged off his own jacket, and dropped it over her shivering body.

"Get back inside."

Mary clutched the jacket like a lifeline, still warm from his body. She didn't walk. She scrambled, half-crawling, and didn't stop until she was gone.

Robert smiled. He turned and started toward the container where the new woman was locked up.

Time to enjoy his dinner.

He made it two steps before he stopped.

He looked out past the chain-link fence.

A dozen walkers were pressed against it from the other side, fingers hooked through the links, staring in at the whole scene like curious bystanders who had wandered up to watch.

Robert's brow creased.

"These rotting pieces of shit are killing the mood."

He turned and looked at Gerr, still on his knees in the dirt.

"Hey."

He pulled the machete from his waist and tossed it. It landed at Gerr's feet with a dull CLANG.

"Go clean up that garbage outside."

Gerr stared at the blade. Dark stains dried into the metal. He looked up at Robert's face, that expression of flat, satisfied contempt.

He had no gun.

Nobody here had a gun except Robert's inner circle. That was the rule.

The men around him were all watching with the same look they'd had the whole time. Waiting for the next part of the show.

Waiting to see how this soft bastard, the one who'd tried to play hero five minutes ago, was going to go hand-to-hand with a dozen walkers armed with nothing but a machete.

Gerr reached down and picked it up.

He got to his feet.

And then he walked. One step. Then another. Like a dead man who hadn't stopped moving yet. Toward the chain-link gate.

➤ Next: We Are the Living