At dusk, Merle drove a pickup loaded with hardware supplies and food toward the Quarry Camp.

Between swigs of liquor, Merle kept glancing over at the passenger seat.

The kid looked pleasant enough. But when swinging a blade to clear walkers, the kid was barely human.

Back at the hardware store, Merle had felt it clearly, some strange excitement rolling off Lin Feng while putting down the walkers. A satisfaction that didn't quite fit.

Tsk. This kid... couldn't have been some kind of serial killer before all this, right?

Nah. East Asians were usually pretty mild-mannered, far as Merle knew.

Feeling the eyes on him, Lin Feng opened his own and frowned. "Seriously, Merle, why do you keep looking at me instead of watching the road?"

"Buddy... what did you do before all this?"

Lin Feng rolled down the window, letting the booze smell out, and said, "Butcher at a slaughterhouse. Why? Scared?"

"Oh, come on, little bro. You actually think your Uncle Merle would be scared? At your age, when Uncle Merle was carrying a rifle, you were still nursing in your mama's arms!"

"Whatever." Lin Feng rolled his eyes. "Just drive. Flip us and that'll be real hilarious."

Hearing the vote of no confidence, Merle leaned on the horn in protest.

The blare rang out sharp and long down the empty highway, stirring the walkers trapped in abandoned cars into a frenzy along the roadside.

"Holy shit! Merle, I swear, you pull that again, I will beat your ass black and blue the second we stop!"

Merle couldn't care less. Merle burst out laughing. "Bring it, buddy! But first you'd better buckle up, I'm hitting the gas!"

"Fuck!"

Lin Feng cursed, but his hands were already moving, snapping the seatbelt into place with practiced speed.

Merle saw no resistance coming and floored it, the truck surging forward while Merle roared with laughter. "I knew it! I just knew it! You and me, no, I should say we are cut from the exact same cloth!"

What the hell are you on about? Just drive the damn truck!

After a bone-rattling ride, Merle brought the truck up near the Quarry Camp. Before it had even stopped rolling, several fully armed people came running over.

Brakes shrieked. Merle brought the pickup to a firm halt off to the side.

Lin Feng had been thrown forward and yanked back by the seatbelt, and his stomach was doing full rotations. Before Lin Feng could get a word of cursing out, Merle had already grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle and hopped out.

"Hey! Little bro — running out that fast, you miss me?"

"Fuck! I came out to collect your corpse!"

"Hahahaha. Then you'll have to wait for next time."

While the two of them were talking, Lin Feng finally clawed his way free of the hellhole known as the passenger seat.

"Fuck! Merle, I swear I am never riding in the same car as you again. Fuck!" Lin Feng punctuated it with a kick.

Merle shifted back and let it sail past.

Taking in Lin Feng's pale face, Merle laughed and held out the bottle. "Don't be so pissed. Rinse your mouth, buddy."

Watching this, Daryl had a slow-rising question mark practically visible above his head.

Had Merle undergone a personality transplant?

Get treated like that and not blow up. Offer to share the liquor on top of it.

Merle hadn't gotten bitten, had Merle? Was that why Merle was being this friendly?

Then Daryl's eyes dropped to the broken half of a handcuff still on Merle's wrist, and something clicked.

"That's right," Merle said. "This is the kid who saved me. Name's Lin Feng. Used to be a butcher."

Daryl looked toward Lin Feng. That cold, hard face pulled into a smile that wasn't pretty, but the words that came out were completely sincere. "Thanks, Lin Feng."

Lin Feng waved a hand, already pushing away the bottle being offered. "Don't mention it."

So it was true after all. The Dixon brothers had a strange, awkward way of getting along, each quietly holding the other in the softest corner of their heart.

But honestly, in this day and age, tsundere was a dead meta. Long past its expiry date.

Rick stood not far off, watching the whole thing with a measuring look.

Close to six-two, solidly built, easy-going face. No shifty look in the eyes, no unfocused drift of someone hooked on something. Probably not an addict.

Young, too. Spoke with a smile. None of Merle's greasy, reckless edge. If anything, Lin Feng looked more like a rookie who'd barely made it out into the world before everything went sideways.

Rick filed it away. Years on the force had built that instinct, and Rick trusted it.

Rick stepped forward past Merle's hostile stare and extended a hand. "Hello. I'm Rick Grimes."

Lin Feng took the hand, smiled. "Lin Feng."

Rick gave a quiet nod. Not bad. Easy to talk to. Probably not the kind of dangerous element that splits a camp down the middle.

"I'm grateful for what you did," Rick said. "And you're welcome here. We're having a little welcome gathering tonight, care to join?"

Lin Feng blinked, then nodded. "It'd be an honor."

Merle suddenly seemed to remember something. A smirk crossed Merle's face. Merle shoved the bottle into Daryl's hands and walked off into camp.

Rick felt the bottom drop out of the moment and abandoned any thought of further small talk. After two quick polite words with Lin Feng, Rick turned and hurried back.

It didn't take long.

Merle's furious shouts and mocking questions, T-Dog's cries and explanations, Rick's reprimands and defenses, the gasps from the camp women, the clatter of something smashed to the ground, all of it tangled together into one churning mess.

"Ah—"

"You thought I couldn't get out without a key?! You **?!"

"No! I didn't mean to—"

"Still talking back?! You picking a fight with me? Then you'd better pray another Mr. Sheriff shows up to bail you out!"

Merle's left hand locked onto T-Dog's collar. The right drove a brutal fist into T-Dog's face.

"Stop, Merle! It wasn't just one person's fault! You got a problem, you bring it to me!"

"Ah, "

...

Late that night, everyone gathered around the campfire for dinner.

After introductions and a round of catch-up, the camp welcomed Lin Feng in.

A capable solo survivor joining meant one more layer of protection. Nobody was going to argue with that.

Word had gotten around that Lin Feng was from China and had never had venison. So Merle had dragged Daryl off into the woods, claiming they'd hunt a deer, give the new kid a proper taste, broaden his horizons a little.

The real reason wasn't hard to read.

Merle wanted to show some gratitude. And to show off while doing it.

See? Even at night, in the woods, those damn walkers can't touch us Dixon brothers. And we'll bring you back a whole deer on top of it. So, what do you say? Feel like running with me?

Lin Feng could already picture the smug look on Merle's face. He shook his head to clear it.

That said, the Dixon brothers really were something else. Those two seemed like they'd been built from the ground up for the end of the world.

The older one was brutal and relentless, still a force to be reckoned with even down a hand. The younger one was a flat-out cheat code, stepped into the woods like stepping through his own front door.

"Hey, Lin, you Japanese?"

Lin Feng glanced over. Old Dale really knew how to insult someone without trying.

Before Lin Feng could answer, Glenn spoke up. "Probably not. My guess is Chinese. Right, Lin Feng?"

Andrea tilted her head. "How can you tell?"

"They aren't that tall."

➤ Next: Sudden Night Raid of Walkers

Chapter 4 - Sudden Night Raid of Walkers

Shane sat on the other side of the campfire, clutching a bottle of liquor.

The spot was carefully chosen, close enough to keep an eye on Lin Feng, close enough to watch over Lori and Carl.

But the gaze that was usually sharp as a hawk's was clouded now. Sluggish. Unfocused.

Shane couldn't even bring himself to look directly at Rick.

Right now, the only thing Shane wanted was to drown the past month in alcohol and forget it had ever happened.

As for how well that was working, well, anyone who's been there knows the answer.

Carl, by contrast, was completely fixated on Lin Feng, eyes wide with childlike curiosity and wonder. Carl kept squirming to get a better look, but Rick held on tight, and with Lori posted on the other side, there was no escaping. Lori's gaze toward Lin Feng was neither warm nor cold, just guarded. Anyone who could laugh and joke with an old bastard like Merle had already been filed away in Lori's head under keep your distance, watch carefully.

Ed had taken a serious beating from Shane that afternoon. Ed hadn't come out of the tent since.

Carol had brought Sophia to the gathering, but both of them wore that same look, eyes that couldn't quite settle anywhere, always sliding away.

T-Dog, Glenn, and Jim sat together, trading the occasional low murmur.

Dale, as ever, wore an easy smile. Dale drifted between groups, pulling out old stories from younger days whenever the mood dipped, coaxing a little warmth back into the air.

The Morales family sat close together, voices hushed, expressions tangled, determination mixed with hope mixed with something that hadn't found its shape yet. Almost certainly still chewing over whether to make the trip to that uncertain relative's place.

Crack.

A dry branch snapping somewhere beyond the treeline. Small sound, swallowed almost immediately by the murmur of conversation, but Lin Feng caught it.

Lin Feng looked up.

A shriek split the night.

Everyone froze for half a second, then lurched to their feet, heads turning toward Ed's tent.

Under the pale wash of the camping lantern, a dark shape pressed down over another. The figure underneath was thrashing wildly.

Then a burst of blood hit the tent fabric and began to slide.

"Holy shit," T-Dog said. "Walkers!"

Lin Feng's eyes swept the camp instantly. "Where's Amy?! Did Amy go to the RV?!"

Andrea snapped out of it. "Yes — Amy's in the RV!"

"Then stop standing there! Elderly, kids, women, get in the vehicles now and lock the doors. Don't open them for anything until it's clear. Dale, you too. Their safety is on you!"

Lin Feng wasn't finished speaking when a walker lurched out from the dark tree line, throat making a wet, choked rasp.

Horror broke across Andrea's face, because the RV door had swung open, and a pale hand was reaching out into the dark.

"Amy — get back! Shut the door! Don't come out!"

The shout made Amy hesitate, foot half-raised.

That half-second was enough. Amy's eyes found the gray-white shape moving in the darkness.

"Aah—!"

The scream came before the thought.

Amy stumbled back, threw all weight into slamming the door, but not quite fast enough.

A gore-streaked hand shoved through the gap, fingers raking blindly at the air.

Amy's mind went white. Eyes clamped shut, Amy pressed both hands against the door, shaking.

Lin Feng was already there.

The Bowie knife drove horizontally through the walker's temple. The blade punched almost clean through, half the tip showing out the other side.

The walker stopped moving, a machine whose switch had been cut. Stillness, instant and total.

Lin Feng pulled the blade free and spoke through the door, voice firm but measured. "Hey. Amy. It's done. Stay quiet for me, alright?"

A long beat. Then Amy cracked both eyes open, saw the bloody hand hanging limp and motionless, and the breath left in a rush. Both hands flew up to cover Amy's mouth as Amy slid down to sit on the floor.

The door pressure released. The walker's arm dropped free. Lin Feng put a boot into the thing's chest and launched it several meters back, then turned toward the camp.

"What are you all waiting for? Get in the vehicles!"

Lin Feng didn't notice the look in Amy's eyes, the way that tearful, trembling gaze held something else underneath. Something that flickered like a light turned on for the first time.

On the other side of camp, more walkers broke from the trees.

Shane took one look and hurled the half-finished beer bottle at them with a snarl.

Still not enough. Shane's hand went to the hip, came back with a pistol, and racked the slide.

"Shane! Don't!" Lin Feng's voice dropped low and hard. "You fire that gun, you'll pull in every walker for half a mile. You want to trigger a herd on this camp? We can run. What about the women and kids?"

Lin Feng locked eyes with Rick for one instant, then turned and moved toward the walkers alone, knife in hand.

Rick understood. Rick grabbed the gun barrel and forced it skyward. "He's right. Put it away. Shooting only brings more."

Shane went still. The pupils tightened slightly. Then, without resistance, Shane let Rick take the pistol.

But Shane didn't stand down. Shane turned, picked up the wood-splitting axe from beside the camp, and walked toward the walkers.

Rick pocketed the pistol and felt unease settle into his chest.

That moment just now. That look on Shane's face. His partner was carrying something unshared.

No time for it now. Rick organized the others, snatched a shovel off the ground, and headed into the dark.

T-Dog and Glenn stayed with the vehicles, both armed, engines ready to turn over. If the walkers came in numbers too great to hold, they would move immediately, get everyone out and gone.

Lin Feng moved through the walkers with quiet efficiency. Blade angled up from beneath the chin, driving through into the brain. A slight twist to finish it. Knife out, step to the next one.

[Walker killed ×1. EXP gained: 1.]

Lin Feng filed that away and kept moving, the faint firelight the only guide.

Six points in Perception wasn't night vision, not even close, but it was enough to work with in this kind of low light.

In peripheral vision, Shane drove a kick into a walker's chest, dropped it, and brought the axe down in one clean stroke.

Head off.

No hesitation. No wasted motion. Brutal and exact.

Lin Feng watched and quietly acknowledged it. Shane had adapted to the end of the world faster than almost anyone, in fighting ability and in mindset. Both first-rate.

No exaggeration: Shane already had everything it took to become a king.

If Shane hadn't died out on that farm, if Shane had gone out into the world instead, the two futures Lin Feng could imagine were both extreme. Either Shane would have forged a small crew of absolute killers with Shane as its unquestioned center, or Shane would have become something like the Governor. Only harder. Meaner. More effective.

Shane could survive this world. Shane could thrive in it.

Rick caved in the side of a walker's skull with the shovel and took a breath, scanning the field. A dozen or so walkers. Manageable.

Especially with that one.

Lin Feng had planted himself directly in the walkers' path. No rushing, no overcommitting, just reading the timing and letting the blade rise and fall, rise and fall, each cut landing clean and lethal.

No wonder Merle had accepted Lin Feng. It wasn't just the debt of being pulled out of that department store. It was this. This particular kind of calm, precise, absolute ruthlessness.

Rick tagged Lin Feng quietly in the back of his mind: deadly up close, operates without hesitation.

Then Rick began drifting toward Shane.

Compared to the one cutting clean paths through the dead, Rick was more worried about the old partner whose axe swings were growing wilder, each one carrying more weight than the walkers required.

Shane was venting. Something was tearing from the inside.

Was it Rick coming back? The leadership fracturing?

Rick reached Shane, drew breath to speak, and then the brush off to the side caught the light.

Something moved.

➤ Next: Feeling A Bit Heavier On The Head