The Return of Shane Vol 2: The Walking Dead (Final Cut)

"The Farm"

Chapter 2

"So you mean to tell me that you lied to your best friend's wife about her husband being dead, then you slept with said wife on multiple occasions, resulting in a pregnancy. Then, after the friend is reunited with his family, that you attempted to steal from him, you lure him into dark field in an attempt to kill him? Am I following this correctly?" Phillip was astonished by Shane's story. How could someone who had been friends as long as Shane claimed he'd been friends with Rick betray him in such an awful fashion? It made Phillip wonder if saving Shane had been a huge error.

"That's not exactly how it happened," Shane argued, "You're just condensing it to make me look like an asshole."

"Make you look like an asshole?" echoed Phillip. "You're doing a fine job of that for me."

The two men were still sitting in the tight water truck. By then, a few walkers had wandered into the roads. It was only two so far, but Phillip knew their buddies weren't too far behind. The walkers were not only drawn to the living, they were also drawn to each other.

During his confession, Shane never once looked Phillip in the eyes. He was very embarrassed. Even when providing his own spin to the events, he still looked like the villain. The fact that Phillip was able to lance through his wall of bullshit to locate the crux of the situation was much to Shane's dismay.

Shane's smooth-talking and bullying had had no affect on the soldier. Phillip had extensive training in human psychology, and Shane's narcissism didn't go unnoticed.

"It's your turn!" retorted Shane. "I've shared enough for one night; time for you to 'fess up."

"To what?" replied the coy Phillip.

Shane turned to Phillip, his eyes tightened to a scowl. "You promised. This isn't a game. You just twirl around like this isn't life or death... What's your fucking malfunction?"

Someone's testy, thought Phillip. The young soldier leaned back in his seat comfortably, with a pleased smirk on his face. "You think you're strong because you can turn it off—being human. You think that makes you more capable in dealing with our current apocalypse. Turning yourself into a golem doesn't make you strong, Shane. I smile, I cry, I sneeze. You want to know why? Because I'm alive. You should try adopting that approach, or you could end up like them. Just because the whole world goes crazy doesn't mean you should join in." Phillip nodded in the direction of the walkers dragging their feet as they attempted to locate the men.

Shane scratched the back of his buzzed head before catching the gaze of Phillip. "What makes you think I wasn't always like this? Maybe I was always a bad guy."

"Bullshit," Phillip dismissed. "I thought we were being honest here."

"I've always fucked things up; I'm like a walking curse." Shane was surprised how introspective he was. For some reason sharing what had transpired between Rick, Lori and himself made him feel better. A burden was lifted from his chest. But Shane realized something—he was the only one confessing anything. Any time it was Phillip's time to share, he would find a clever way to redirect the focus back to Shane. "What are you?"

"I'm a waitress," Phillip replied coyly. Shane's frown, even through the darkness of night, was very obvious. "I take it you weren't a True Blood fan."

"No more games," demanded Shane.

"Fair enough. My mother happened to be of Irish and Welsh descent, and my father was Creole. But based off your ever-deepening frown, I don't think that's what you wanted to know."