"What the fuck are you doing, man?!" Bradley struggled to free himself, but Farley had a solid hold on the man's coat. Farley pushed, holding Bradley's upper body over the edge. "Help! He's gonna kill me!"
From behind him, Tanner was yelling. "Farley, what the hell?! Get back here and help us, we're about to be overrun!" Farley pretended not hear. In a fit of desperation, Bradley sunk his teeth into the soldier's hand hard enough to draw blood. Farley remained strong, pushing him further into the air.
"Please don't! I thought we were friends!"
"I'm sorry Brad, but I gotta do this." With a final, massive push, Farley sent Bradley completely over the edge. As the man fell, he let out a desperate, continuous scream that trailed off the closer he got to the ground. Within seconds, Bradley had completed his express journey to the street below. The horde sensed food that was within reach, and hundreds of walkers began to drag themselves toward the nearly unrecognizable remains that had just landed in their midst, oblivious to the battle raging above.
Beth's scream momentarily drowned out the moans of the dead. "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU MURDERED HIM!"
Pushing her aside, Farley grabbed Conner's sleeve and made a break for the fire escape, towing his friend along with him. "Cram it, sister! They're distracted right now, so if we haul ass we can reach the truck." The walkers on the roof continued to close in, spurring the others into action. As swiftly as they could they followed Farley down the fire escape, with a clear path to their vehicle.
"Hey man," a voice greeted, startling Farley out of his thoughts. "What are you doing out here? Lynch doesn't like it when people screw around near the barn."
"Whatever." Legs stretched out in front of him, Farley barely bothered to glance at the man. His back was against the wall of the barn, just to the left of the padlocked doors and the ladder leaning up against them and leading into the loft above, providing an entrance from the second story. It was just another barn on another farm in a world full of them.
The man persisted, extending a hand toward him. "Seriously man, Lynch doesn't want anyone but guards around the barn. Come with me."
"I refer you to my previous statement," Farley dismissed. "Just give me a smoke or get out of here."
"Actually…" For the first time Farley looked up at the man standing above him. Another one of Lynch's bandits, obviously, but there was something different about this one. Farley didn't feel that same overhanging savagery as he did around Willard, or the cold and detached ruthlessness of Amy and Lynch. This guy was different. "Here you go." Farley snatched the cigarette from the man's hand almost immediately and brought it to his mouth in an unsteady hand. The man took out his lighter and flicked it on, giving Farley his badly needed light.
"Thanks," Farley said as he gave a deep drag. The shaking in his hands subsided but he had a feeling it would be back. "You would be…?"
"Josh," the man answered. "So what's up?"
Farley inhaled again and pointed upward. "The stars."
"Cute. Seriously, tell me what's wrong."
"What do you care?"
"That was my last cigarette."
"Oh." Giving a thoughtful pause, Farley decided to give in and get something off of his chest. "I just… well, I'm sure you heard all that screaming, right?" Josh nodded.
"That was me and Willard in the shed. We were trying to get some answers from someone. The guy used to be my friend." Expecting an interruption Farley paused, but Josh continued to stare. "Things, well," Farley continued, "they didn't go so great in there."
"In the torture shed? The hell you say." Farley's look of contempt was sudden. Josh held up his hands apologetically. "Sorry, sometimes I can't help myself."
"Whatever." Taking a deep breath, he went on. "Things were pretty complicated between us even before the world went to hell. I was always watching out for him, and sometimes it was difficult."
"Why were you looking out for him?"
"His sister asked me to, and he was already my friend. And-" Farley stopped in mid sentence. "I… uh… I can't really seem to find the words here."
"It's alright, just do your best."
The uncertainty in Farley's voice was almost physical, and he hesitated before speaking up again. "I really don't know how to put this, but Conner, um, well, he's always...uh…"
"Was he… different?" Josh ventured.
"That's about as close as I think we'll get. He's always had some… I can't think of the words again. Embarrassing, right?" Farley wracked his brain for the proper terminology as he smoked. "Well, the words that come to mind are "anger issues", but even that's not quite right. It goes a little beyond that, but I sti-"
A banging noise from inside the barn startled Farley and he was on his feet in the span of second, hand reflexively shooting down toward the pistol holstered on his hip. He had just unclasped the the holster when Josh tugged his arm away from the weapon. Something pushed the doors out from the inside, but they were stopped by the lock. The noises became more furious and concentrated as the inhabitants of the barn were denied their freedom.
"Josh," Farley said with measured words, "what the fuck is that?" Several sets of scratching noises were now weaving their way through the gap between the locked doors. It was a familiar sound. Almost as familiar as the deathly moan that assaulted his hearing.
Josh began to lead Farley away by his arm and toward the central house. "I think I need to explain something to you. Just try to keep an open mind, okay?"
"I'll keep it open as long as those doors stay closed."