Just Gone

17: The Dead Next Door

Rick and Shane stared at Hershel. Rick stepped closer, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes at the older man, "dead ones? What do you mean dead ones?!"

"You know, the Dead Ones," Hershel responded as if it was common knowledge, "all these people up and walking around when they shouldn't be, the ones that are causing all this trouble."

There was a long silence before Shane stepped in. He opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, but still hesitated. This new information didn't seem to be getting into their heads.

"And you're keeping those . . . things in your barn. On your property, right next to where you sleep?" Shane finally got out.

"We're keeping them in the barn until we can figure out a way to help them." Hershel answered in a calm voice. He looked at the two men, then briefly glanced at Daryl, "what have you been doing with them?"

"The hell you think we've been doin' with them? You said yourself they should be dead. Shootin' 'em in the head fixes that," Daryl explained, pointed a finger to his temple in exasperation.

Hershel's jaw dropped, he was horrified. "You've just been killing them?!"

"We're putting them out of their misery and keeping them from killing us! Those things aren't human, they're undead monsters. They're trying to eat us for God's sake!" Shane said loudly.

"You don't know why! You don't even know what's wrong with them. Nobody does, we don't know a damn thing about what happened or what's going on!"

Rick had put his hands on his head at Hershel's response, looking away as if not sure what to do or say. I watched him shake his head a couple times and rub his eyes, thinking.

"I know those things are trying to kill us and that the less of them there are out there the safer we'll be!" Shane argued with Hershel, I could hardly even think with the new information and the arguing.

Rick gave a single nod, "it's not smart to have a mess of them pinned up not thirty feet from your house."

"Not smart? Not smart! It's insane!" Shane turned red in the face, pursing his lips as he glared at Hershel, "what in God's name is wrong with you?! Having those things near your kids! Your home!" Shane turned to Rick, and even looked at Daryl. It was easy to tell he was checking for support. "We should go in that barn right now and shoot every Goddamned one of them in the head!"

I looked up at Daryl, his eyes held a hard expression. I knew he was angry, he just hadn't really shown it yet. He nodded quickly at Shane's words, pulling his crossbow off his shoulder and positioning it firmly in his hands, as if preparing.

In the distance, behind the men arguing, I could see some of the group. I saw Carol and Lori peering our way, slowly coming forward.

I couldn't tell if Hershel looked more angry, or more horrified, "No-"

"-It's not safe for them to be here! We need to kill them before they kill us!" Shane shouted.

"My son is in there, damn it!" Hershel yelled. He glared hard at Shane and Rick, who were shocked into silence. After a moment, Hershel took a deep breath and hung his head low.

"Your son?" Rick repeated, as if looking for confirmation or denial.

"Shawn was bitten," Hershel's eyes were closed, he kept his head down. His voice trembled as he spoke. "I-I couldn't help him. After a few hours . . . he died, and turned into one of them. I didn't know what else to do, so we put him in the barn. He attacked, tried to kill us, he bit my wife . . . I couldn't kill him . . . I couldn't bring myself to do that. I couldn't kill my wife. She wanted so badly to know what happened to him, why it happened. She kept saying we can fix this. I told her I would-they-us . . . it'd be fixed before . . . she . . ."