A/N: I've always thought that Shane would have gone a little crazy with or without what happened with Lori. He seemed to be ready and willing to let his morals slip away when the walkers appeared, and in this story that slipping is noticeable. When things are going sort of okay, do you make bad moral decisions to keep them that way? Or do you sacrifice some things in the name of goodness? Shane faces that dilemma in this chapter.

XxX

Chapter 13.

The Line.

Rick.

It was midday when Rick found the first sign of another group of survivors. He signaled to his companions to stop, watching through the trees as five walkers fed on a fresh body – so fresh that it was still bleeding, occasionally convulsing. On the other side of this gruesome scene, another pair of eyes was watching, wet with misery. It was a man. He looked ready to charge out.

Rick saw where this was going immediately.

He tipped his hand, pulled a machete off of his belt, and stood up, just as the other survivor jumped out of the bushes and screamed, wielding a metal pipe. He was skinny, gaunt, sunburnt, in no shape to be fighting anything. But there were others behind him, a woman wielding a hatchet, and a teenager who seemed reluctant and afraid.

His shout alerted the walkers and they stirred at the sound, turning toward the three survivors.

"Shit," Rick cursed. "Hey! Hey!"

He charged out of the trees, shouting, "Hey, over here! Hey!" He streaked toward them, arms pumping, catching the first walker in a full-force blow across its skull. His machete got wedged in its eye socket and he was nearly dragged down as the body collapsed.

Shane appeared behind him, bashing the second walker with a bat, stopping it just a foot away, and then kicking it so it rolled over the first one. Morales was right behind him. He hit another walker with a pipe, shouting furiously. Rick freed his machete and stumbled over the dead walkers, putting his machete through the skull of the last one before it could reach the three newcomers. It fell to the ground between them, leaving them standing there, looking at each other.

When the danger was gone, the small group fell upon their dead companion. It looked like another teenager, but the face was already gone. Rick stepped away, glancing meaningfully at Shane, hoping he grasped the gravity of this situation.

For a little while, no one said anything.

"I'm sorry about your friend," Rick said. "I'm Rick, and this is Shane and Morales."

"What do you want?" the woman snapped. She was the only one who looked up at them, an intense rage in her eyes. She was like a cornered animal who chose to fight.

Shane frowned, "Uh, to save your lives?"

"We were fine," she responded quietly, looking back at the body.

Rick cut in before Shane could respond, "Maybe you were, but we're the helpin' sort. Listen, we have a camp with more people, more survivors. We have food and shelter, and protection."

"We have our own camp," the woman responded curtly, not turning. Rick was talking to the back of her head.

"Audrey," the man said, finally peeling himself away from the corpse. His voice was trembling, and tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm Michael, and this is Audrey, and Claire," he gestured to the teenager, "and… Duncan."

"I'm sorry," Rick said again.

"Our camp isn't far. We'll be fine." Michael pulled himself to his feet, wiping his eyes on his shirt. "Audrey, can you give me a hand, please?"

She scowled, "Leave him here."

"I can't," Michael whimpered.

Audrey shook her head, looking away cruelly. Rick thought he saw tears in her eyes.

"We can help," Rick offered, looking again at Shane. He was nodding. "We can help you bury him. Pick him up on three."

It was a short walk, made longer by the body the men carried between them. Rick studied the new people as they went, noting that Michael had a distinct and almost crippling limp. Claire was quiet, terror living permanently in her eyes. Audrey was the strongest of them, appearing young and healthy, but it seemed that Michael called the shots. He wondered who they were to each other – if they had just stumbled together, or if they were a family, or friends, or coworkers.

Their camp was a clearing edged up to a boulder. It was badly exposed. Rick set the dead boy down and got a look around, his mind suddenly alert. It was not a normal camp. There was a pallet with a tarp over it, laden with supplies – freeze-dried meals, water jugs, medicine, tents and sleeping bags. And there were tents set up all around, with little overhands with chairs beneath them. And the ground was worn down where many feet had once tread.

But there were only three of them here now.

It was a ghost town.

Audrey must have seen the look on his face. She said, sadly, "We're all that's left."

"What happened to everyone?" Shane asked, as if the answer were not obvious.

"A lot of them came through, like a herd of… infected." Michael retrieved a shovel and started digging off to the side, speaking while huffing for breath, "It was the middle of the night."

Rick could only imagine the terror they must have felt, being suddenly overrun. He swallowed, shaking it away. "We have a group. You three are welcome to join us."

"We're fine on our own," Audrey said. She seemed confident in herself, but the anger in her tone made him think she was rejecting his offer out of pride.

Morales nodded toward the pallet, restless. "Do you guys have antibiotics?"

"None to spare," Audrey answered quickly. Her expression changed, and suddenly Rick realized she was feeling threatened.

He kept his tone light and friendly, and pleading, "We have a sick little boy back at our camp. His name is Louis. He's eight. He has a sinus infection and a bad fever. We were out today heading down the mountain to look for medicine – that's why we ran into you."

Michael looked at Audrey, "We could-"

"We're not a charity," Audrey interrupted.

"We saved your lives," Shane said hotly.

"We're grateful, we really are," Michael said, reluctantly going along with what Audrey had decided. He stopped making eye contact with them. "But this stuff is all we have. It's all we have."

"We don't want the whole pallet, just some pills for a sick kid," Shane insisted.

"And I said no," Audrey responded flatly.

Shane snorted, "Yeah? And what's stoppin' me from takin' it?"

Her hand moved subtly toward her hip, and Shane rested his palm on the hilt of his gun. Rick stepped between them, "Whoa, hey. We're not doing that. That's not who we are." Both of them were hotheaded, ready to lock horns. He said, "It might be safer for all of you if you came back with us. We can offer you protection. We have people to keep watch, people to look for food. But it's your choice. It's completely your choice."

"I said no," Audrey said again, scowling at Shane, who returned the look from behind Rick. "We don't want to join your softball team and we're not giving you any of our shit. So fuck off."

Rick really, really, really wanted this to go differently.

Morales said, "What about Louis?"

"We'll keep looking," Rick said, suddenly wanting to get far away from these people and their pallet of supplies. It was rough enough having to fight the walkers – he didn't want to start fighting other people, too. But Shane seemed as ready as ever. "Come on. Let's go."

He led a reluctant Morales away from the camp, but they didn't get fifty feet before Shane stopped.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"We can't take whatever we want," Rick said hotly, allowing himself to be angry now that it was just the three of them. "It's not who we are. What right did we have to-?"

"You keep saying that," Shane snapped, "But was any of that theirs two weeks ago? Huh? Was any of that theirs before this started? You think just anybody can just claim anything now? We got a sick little boy back there, and who we are is people who ain't lettin' him die while those stupid assholes sit on enough supplies for twenty people!"

"We got no right-"

"Oh, you wanna talk about rights now? What right-?"

Rick cut him off, "What do you want me to do, Shane? You wanna attack them? You wanna take their stuff? Do you think they won't fight back? Huh? You wanna hit that little girl? And if we do take it, and by some miracle nobody gets shot, do you think they won't retaliate? What if we put our people in danger? If they came back at us we would have to fight them, maybe kill them. Is that what you want? Is that what we do now?"

His words drove Shane to silence, and the other man scowled at the ground.

"Is that what we do now?" Rick repeated quietly, "We take shit, and if people don't like it, we kill them? Is that who you wanna be, Shane?"

Morales looked miserable, "Louis needs those meds."

"I know. I know that." Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "We're not stopping until we find some antibiotics. We're not going home without them."

"If we're moving on, let's move on," Shane said, his tone suddenly neutral.

Rick looked his friend in the eye – his best friend – and for the first time in his life he felt a vain of distrust wiggle into his heart. Did he even realize he had crossed a line? Was he really willing to hurt innocent strangers to save Louis?

Was the new normal to have the strong rule, and the weak fade away?

It made Rick wonder how far he was willing to go, as well. Would he be making the same arguments as Shane if this were his boy who was sick?

He didn't want to think of it.

He didn't want to think of those people in that camp ever again.