The Third Dixon [The walking dead]

Chapter seven

Measi sat next to Nathan, a piece of chicken halfway to her mouth, enjoying the brief pause in the chaos. Most of the camp ate in quiet, an almost surreal peace settling over the Greene family's yard, the hum of cicadas punctuating the afternoon. She was about to take another bite when Glenn cleared his throat, the sound sharp enough to make her pause.

"Um, guys," Glenn said, eyes darting nervously toward the barn. Measi turned her head, fork halfway suspended in midair, her eyes narrowing. "The barn... it's full of walkers."

The words hung in the air, heavy and wrong. A shiver ran up her spine.

Shane jerked back instinctively, a few walkers already at the edge of the barn door, their groans carrying across the yard. Measi's fingers closed tightly around her sniper, her knuckles whitening.

"You cannot tell me you're all right with this, Rick," Shane barked, his voice sharp enough to make heads turn.

Rick's jaw tightened. "No, I'm not. But we're guests here. This isn't our land."

Shane's eyes flashed. "This is our lives!"

Nathan placed a hand on Shane's shoulder, murmuring something, trying to calm him. Measi's voice cut through next, low and measured but carrying its own weight.

"Lower your voice. The walkers in there will be restless. Yelling's only going to draw them out."

Andrea stepped closer to the barn, eyes wary. "We can't just sweep this under the rug."

Shane scoffed, pacing in frustration, then pointed toward the barn. "It ain't right. Not remotely. We've either got to go in there, or we've got to leave. And we've been talking about Fort Benning for a long time."

Rick shook his head. "We can't go."

"Why, Rick? Why?" Shane pressed.

Carol stepped forward, voice firm as she glared at him. "Because my daughter is still out there."

Shane laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Okay... okay. Maybe it's time we all start considering the other possibility."

"We're not leaving Sophia behind," Measi called out, loud and clear, her voice cutting through the tension. Shane froze, momentarily caught off guard. Daryl stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder in silent support.

"I'm close to finding this girl," Daryl growled. "I found her damn doll two days ago."

Shane's laugh was sharp. "You found a doll, Daryl. That's what you did. A doll."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Daryl shot back, moving forward. Shane stepped closer, hands tense, and Measi shoved him back with the butt of her sniper, eyes blazing with warning.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said," Shane spat. "You get a good lead, it's in the first forty-eight hours. Let me tell you something else—if she saw you coming all method out with that buck knife, she'd run the other way!"

Daryl lunged, and Measi, T-Dog, and Rick stepped in, holding him back. Meai's grip on the sniper tightened.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel," Rick said, his voice calm but firm. ''Let me figure it out.''

"What are you gonna figure out?!" Shane barked.

"If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear that barn," Rick said, glancing at the door, "I have to talk to him first. It's his land."

Dale's voice cut in, quiet but full of weight. "Hershel sees them as people—sick people. His wife, his stepson." Some of the others frowned, but Measi just scoffed softly, eyes on the barn, listening.