It's second nature for Shane to do a headcount once he and Jimmy arrive at the veterinary office on the outskirts of town. Everyone's arrived, even Abraham's people, with one glaring, notable exception. He strides over to the idling Humvee, keeping a wary eye out for stray walkers or segments broken off from that massive herd. It doesn't surprise him that Maggie's hot on his heels.
"Abraham? Where's Eugene and the kids?"
The army sergeant sighs, looking both pissed and worried at the same time, and in the passenger seat, Rosita is studying a map as if that will produce the missing people through sheer will. "Eugene's orders were always to get as far from the source of danger as possible. He'll be following that map the Greenes made for the schools that might be safe spaces."
"In which direction?" Maggie asks, because her family had been pretty damn thorough, and others had marked their own areas, too.
"East, as best as they can, then north. End game is somewhere with government lab facilities, after all. Michonne's with him, plus my kids and her little boy."
Shane understands, and having Beth already mentally slotted as one of his own and now out of sight and protection makes his skin crawl. "Can you get them on the radio?"
When Abraham shakes his head, Shane's stomach curdles, and he feels Maggie's fingers slip into his. He squeezes them lightly, offering and drawing comfort both. "After a certain range, sometimes the radios can get spotty, especially if there's a storm coming. Something might have taken down that repeater we put on the farm, too."
"Daddy said the barometer's been dropping all day," Maggie remarks, and that makes Shane look toward the west. It's hard to see anything with dusk rapidly falling, but keeping an eye on the weather is another complication added to their evening.
"My orders to Eugene were for him to stay radio silent. Not everyone out there is a friendly, and it's even more important when it's just two adults and four kids." Abraham tries the radio again, but there's no reply. "Best coordinate those maps to where we start first. Driving at night isn't ideal, but staying put when we know there's a herd in the area is foolhardy."
Shane nods, and once Abraham points out where Eugene would try first on his copy of the map, he and Maggie go inform the others. Everyone's good on gas, so they don't need to shuffle anyone just yet. Just as he's leaving Maggie at her car, a piercing scream echoes from the south.
"That's a kid!"
Frustration floods through Shane at Maggie's words, because instinct is to go save the person in danger. But with his shoulder only two weeks out from major bone repair to the collarbone, he's a disadvantage in this situation. Others aren't as hampered, so Shane takes up guard duty even as Maggie jumps in the Cherokee as Rick speeds off. Once it would have been a surprise to see Daryl roaring after them on the motorcycle, but not after he helped look for Sophia, and T-Dog doesn't hesitate either, taking Glenn along for the ride.
Part of Shane wants to send Dale on his way, maybe with Abraham's two Humvees as escort, but separating the group further is just too damn risky. He can't bring himself to get back in the truck, though, standing warily with his hand on his weapon and damn glad he spent years making sure he's as accurate with his left hand as his right. Dale's pacing near the RV, equally tense, with Lori sitting behind the wheel. He's glad to see Patricia scooted over into the driver's seat of Maggie's car without anyone making the suggestion.
Gunshots ring out, along with shouting, and it's apparently all that Abraham can handle waiting through. The Humvee disappears in the direction Rick and the others went, followed by a crashing sound of metal on metal.
"Load up, Dale! Give it sixty seconds and then go. We rendezvous at that high school." Shane shouts, following his own orders by jumping into the passenger seat. There's not enough fighters left in the others, although Abraham's two he left behind are unknowns to Shane, and it feels like that point back in the quarry when Glenn's group got trapped in Atlanta. Getting the half-trained women and remaining kids out of harm's way is priority.
Just as the time is nearly up, the unmistakable sound of Daryl's motorcycle approaches, and he has passengers. Maggie is holding onto a struggling child sitting between them, but the kid calms as soon as Daryl all but slides to a stop near Maggie's car. Maggie yanks the boy with her, shouting at him to get into the back seat.
Daryl revs his engine, turning to roll to a stop on the passenger side of the truck. "Abe said get the hell outta here," he shouts, but Shane doesn't really need the direction, because Maggie's car is leaving, with Hershel's Suburban right behind her.
The rest of the vehicles fall into line behind Maggie's car for their second emergency evacuation of the night, but this one goes less smoothly. Hershel's cattle managed to escape their fields and flee ahead of the herd. The problem with that is the four-legged herd fled due south, drawing a considerable number of the ravenous two-legged herd after them. Shane's group is forced to reverse course from heading east.
Before they can find an alternate going north or south, they come across the smaller caravan of Humvee, Cherokee, and Hyundai. When Abraham slows to a stop to converse with Maggie, Shane hopes that means whatever danger they were supposed to flee from is no more. Maggie and Patricia lead them away, with the three other vehicles making U-turns to follow.
It's a zigzagging pattern of back roads that only a local would know, weaving their way northwest. The wind picks up and lightning starts to appear on the horizon, making Jimmy and Shane exchange an uneasy glance. Georgia may not get hit with as many tornadic thunderstorms as states further west, but they get just enough for any native of the state to be wary when winds pick up like this.
Then comes the hail.
"Jesus Christ," Jimmy mutters. "This shit can take out windshields, can't it?"
"Yeah." Snagging the CB, he keys the mike. Not everyone has a CB installed, since that had been a later thing for their preparation list, but key people do. "Hershel?"
"We're flashing our lights for Patricia to let us take the lead, Shane," Hershel replies calmly. "I know a farm about a mile from here with an equipment barn to park the more vulnerable vehicles and the house itself has a basement. House was clear last time Otis was there."
Acknowledging the plan with relief, Shane signs off. "You good to keep driving in this?"
Jimmy is whiteknuckled on the steering wheel, fighting wind bursts and peering through the now-pouring rain, but he nods. "I got this."
Luck holds for the teenage driver, and despite waves of pelting hailstones large enough, they make it to their destination with the only casualty of the hail being Maggie's car's back glass. Maggie and Otis jump out, running to pull large pieces of farm equipment out from under the sheltering roof. The equipment barn doesn't have walls, but anything is better than being out in the open. At least a storm like this will screw any walkers as badly as humans.
The basement is one hell of a tight fit, never meant for this many people, so they settle the women and kids below to try to get some sleep, and along with Hershel, Otis, and Dale. The newest child goes nearly batshit when told to take cover in the basement, so Abraham finally waves off the concerned mothers and settles the kid at the kitchen table. There's a clear view to the west, and Abraham takes up a post near those windows.
"What the hell happened?" Shane asks, eying the wary boy who acts damn near feral. He's pale-skinned with wide, dark eyes and dark hair just an inch beyond being termed a buzz cut. Shane hopes this poor kid hasn't been alone all this time, although at least the kid looks well-fed and clothed.
Maggie, Daryl, Rick, T-Dog, and Glenn are all blood spattered in different amounts, agreeing to take turns to change in the downstairs bathroom. Rick goes first, so covered in gore that Shane doesn't think Rick's clothes are salvageable. None of the blood has that darker color and stench of walker blood, making Shane really need the explanation everyone's been putting off.
"Close to a dozen assholes had the kid cornered, taunting him where he climbed out of their reach and retracted the fire escape ladder on the side of a building." Maggie sounds torn between exhaustion and horror as she wets down a dish towel and offers it to the kid. "Says his name is Jude, but hasn't said a peep about why the men were chasing him."
"You killed them," Jude says heatedly, but he doesn't sound offended. He sounds absolutely, ruthlessly delighted as he scrubs at his hands and face with the wet dish towel. "All of them are dead, right?"
"Yeah, we killed every damn one of those fuckers," Glenn says, sounding as vicious as Jude, but he looks haunted and near tears. Before Shane or Abraham can ask, he starts talking again. "They were the worst sort, Shane. Taunting Jude about what they'd done to his sisters and dad."
"Bastards deserved to die," Daryl agrees. "Kid barely let Maggie touch him. Wouldn't let me or Glenn."
That explains why it took both Daryl and Maggie to remove Jude from the situation, and why Jude was still fighting Maggie when they got back.
"We're not like those men," Shane tells Jude, taking a seat in the chair opposite so he's better on Jude's level. He guesses the boy is about eight or nine, remembering Carl at the same age. "Me and Rick, the man that went to the bathroom? We were deputies before. Abraham and Rosita are military. We look after people."
Jude doesn't respond, but he doesn't look like he entirely believes it. Maggie rummages in the pantry and brings a can of soda to the table. Jude doesn't push it away, instead opening the can and drinking deeply.
"When did you eat last, Jude?" Shane asks, drawing those wary eyes back his way.
"My dad was cooking lunch when the men found our camp." Jude thinks hard. "Two days ago."
"Jesus," Maggie mutters, going back to the pantry and snagging a couple of cans. They haven't tried to start the house's generator, so the only light is from candles and camp lanterns and the stove is electric. She makes do, dumping a can of peaches into one bowl and chicken and dumplings in another. Jude starts on both, while Shane eases away from the table to gather near the living room.
"Just how bad was it?" he asks. Glenn's careful wording makes Shane imagine the worst.
"Whatever you're thinking? It's worse than that, and they were proud of it." Relaying the story of what the monsters said they'd done to Jude's father and sisters makes Glenn look like he's going to throw up. Daryl and T-Dog look equally sickened, and Shane doesn't blame him.
"You got all those bastards, right?" Shane asks, glancing between them and back to where Maggie's in the kitchen keeping an eye on Jude.
"The ones we didn't shoot, Abraham ran over with his fucking Humvee. Some tried to run once they realized outnumbering us didn't matter. Ole Abe pinned two of them to the side of their own damn truck." Daryl sounds grimly pleased by their fate, and it explains the crash they heard.
Considering Abraham had no information at the time he'd joined the others, it shows that he's decided to trust their judgment and protect them.
"Think there's any more of them out there?" Shane asks, watching the other men shudder.
"Could be. Storm will fuck them over as much as us." Daryl shrugs the idea off.
"We'll need to keep an eye out," Abraham says from his post near the window. He sounds too damn calm for a man separated from his kids, but then again, his group has been fighting their way across the US for weeks. It might not be the first time they've been apart. "But it makes it our priority to find Eugene, Michonne, and the kids."
"First thing in the morning, or as soon as the storm passes?" There's no way to predict how long it can last. Some of these summer thunderstorms are swift, moving along as fast as they arrived. Others can last for hours. Without radar, there's no way to know.
Abraham grunts softly, fiddling with an unlit cigar that he tucks away instead of lighting. "Too many damn factors out there tonight. We ought to wait until dawn."
With that settled, Shane returns to the kitchen as Rick emerges from the bathroom for Maggie to take her turn. Settling back in the seat across from Jude, Shane doesn't press the boy for any information beyond what the adults provided. He prays that somehow Jude is young enough not to understand what happened, especially since the bandits don't seem to have captured him.
"You're really a cop?" Jude asks after a few silent bites to finish off the peaches. His bowl for the chicken and dumplings is already empty.
"Ever since I graduated from college. Deputy back in King County." It's close enough Jude might have some grasp of geography in the area. "Rick and me, we graduated high school and college together before we became partners in the sheriff's department."
Jude glances at Rick, who is leaning in the doorway, careful to stay in the boy's line of sight. Then he eyes Shane's injured shoulder. "What happened to you?"
"Hunting accident. One of the girls in our group got lost in the woods after some of the dead chased her. When we were looking for her, we crossed paths with a hunter and a deer at the wrong moment."
"What he's not saying is that he tackled my son out of the way of the bullet," Rick says, correcting Shane's abbreviated version of the shooting. "He's the boy whose arm was in a cast. It got broken when they hit the ground."
Absorbing that information, Jude lays his fork down and sighs. "They said my daddy and sisters are dead. Do you think they lied?"
"It's possible," Shane admits. "Do you remember where you camped?"
"Yeah. I could show you. I remember the road name and everything, because my sisters thought it sounded funny." Jude pushes away the bowls and fiddles with a tattered leather bracelet on one wrist. "I was in the tent when the bad men came. Daddy screamed at us to run, and I did. I got out the back of the tent and ran and ran, but they found me today anyway. I should've stayed."
The first emotion other than anger flashes across Jude's face, grief and guilt warring for dominance. "I should've stayed," he repeats vehemently.
Shane reaches across the table with his good hand, feeling relieved when Jude not only lets him take his hand, but grips it tightly. "You did the right thing, Jude. The only thing your daddy would regret is that all three of you didn't get away."
Rick twitches, and Shane understands the feeling. The urge to hug the boy tightly is strong, but with the level of trauma, it feels like it needs to be Jude's choice. He's already fought against being too close to Daryl, and barely tolerated Maggie in close contact. Even Carol and Lori set Jude off, although Shane suspects the idea of being in the basement with no exit bothered Jude more than the women themselves.
As much as Shane expects tears, he's also not surprised when Jude somehow isn't able to cry. He just sits at the table, holding Shane's hand like he's a lifeline to the world, until finally everyone's changed clothes. Jude's jaw cracking yawn makes Shane wince.
"How about you set up on the loveseat as long as the storm holds off sending us any tornadoes?" Shane suggests.
"Will she stay?"
Since the only 'she' upstairs right now is Maggie, Shane looks over, unsurprised when Maggie nods.
"I'll sleep on the couch, and you get the loveseat. And the others will keep watch and take turns sleeping."
After Jude agrees and lets go of Shane, Maggie takes him to do more than a towel cleanup. Abraham treks out into the storm and fetches some of AJ's clothes while he tries the radio. From his unhappy expression when he returns, Shane doesn't even have to ask if he got through or not.
Maggie and Jude are both settled to sleep, while Shane takes first watch in the living room, leaving Abraham to arrange the watches for the west-facing kitchen. Rain, wind, and bursts of hail still obscure most of the view, so there's not much for Shane to see while Daryl rolls into a pallet in one corner of the living room. T-Dog eyes the recliner before stretching out to sleep with a sigh, and Rick and Glenn disappear down the hall along with Abraham's off duty folks. It's not ideal if a tornado does approach, but Shane can only pray they get warning signs.
The problem of the basement is that there aren't any bathrooms down there, so Shane isn't surprised to see Jimmy venture up around two in the morning. He wanders over, careful and quiet, standing next to where Shane is using an ottoman as a perch to keep an eye on the winding driveway and expansive front yard of the farmhouse. The storm has died down quite a bit, to the point that Shane's no longer worried about a twister, at least.
"Do you think they found shelter?" Jimmy whispers, crouching down and brushing his shoulder up against Shane's good one in that hesitant manner that Shane suspects is him building up to actually hugging Shane. It'll happen on whatever timeline Jimmy choses.
"Yeah. Michonne and Eugene both seem to have good heads on their shoulders, and you know Beth knows how to read the weather. She'd think of a safe place to go."
Shane has been trying really hard not to think about there being more of the monsters Rick and the others eliminated tonight. Not sure how much of what happened has been communicated to Jimmy, he doesn't want to add the worst details if Jimmy doesn't ask.
"Beth's smart like that." Once Jimmy was certain he had a safe place with someone other than Hershel, his clinginess toward Beth evaporated as if it never existed. It puzzles Shane a little bit, but he's just glad that Jimmy and Beth appear to have pulled quite a little friendship out of the boy's apology after he moved in with Shane.
Jimmy glances surreptitiously toward Jude. "Is he going to be okay?"
"I hope so." Shane bumps Jimmy's shoulder and smiles. "Get some sleep, kiddo. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."
Once Jimmy disappears back to the basement, Shane checks the time and decides it's time to turn the watch over to T-Dog. He stands and stretches as best he can. There's no way he can sleep on the floor like Daryl, so T-Dog is drawing the short straw tonight.
"Please don't leave."
The barely voiced plea is so softly spoken that Shane thinks he imagines it for a moment. When he turns, though, he can see Jude blinking sleepily in the dim light of the camp lantern.
"I'm not going far, Jude," he explains. "Just gonna trade spots with T-Dog so he can keep watch. I'll be in the recliner, I promise."
"No. That's too far."
It's puzzling that Jude focuses on him rather than one of the men who actually were part of the attack on the bandits, but maybe it is the cop effect. Jude is at an age where kids who haven't had any negative interactions with police often have a storybook hero ideal about them.
"Do you want me to sit with you?" The loveseat has a high back. It won't be the best sleep Shane's ever had, but he can make it work.
"Please."
Waking T-Dog takes just a few moments, with Jude sitting up and watching his every move. Shane takes a seat on the end nearest Maggie, and he honestly expects Jude to curl up on the other side and doze back off. Kids are remarkably flexible in how they sleep, after all.
Instead, Jude creeps closer before flinging his arms around Shane's chest. "I want my daddy."
Those words unleash the dam on Jude's trauma and grief at last, and the boy sobs brokenly, clinging to Shane. All he can do is rub Jude's back, praying they can somehow help Jude heal from the horrors he's seen beyond the dead walking the earth.
Maggie reaches out and rests her hand on Shane's knee as she watches mournfully. "Those bastards died too easily."
"Fuck yes." Daryl hasn't rolled over, but his sentiment is clear, and T-Dog echoes it, too.
Hopefully hell truly exists, because Shane hopes they're burning eternally now.
A/N: A flip of the Randall group encounter, with Judith making her appearance by being teleported from season 9. No relation to Shane or Lori this time...
Just how long before they realize that Jude is Judith? We shall see...
