Chapter 4 – Journey to the Greene Farm
The morning fog hung low over Atlanta, blending with the hum of distant traffic. Nia sat quietly in the passenger seat of the old truck, staring out at the city slowly fading behind them. Dale drove steadily, hands tight on the wheel, the weight of months of planning pressing on both of them.
"We'll be safer out here," Dale said, breaking the silence. "Closer to open land, away from the chaos that's creeping into the city."
Nia nodded, her mind replaying the strange dreams she'd been having for weeks—the city engulfed in fire, people turning into monsters, screams carried on the wind. It had all felt like a warning. That warning had driven them to this moment: buying a small farm outside the city, a defensible refuge.
"I just hope we'll be ready," she said, voice quiet.
"We will," Dale reassured her. "We've trained, prepared… and now we've got a place to survive."
By midday, they arrived at the Greene farm. The fields stretched out in neat rows, livestock scattered across the pens, and a farmhouse stood at the center, sturdy and calm against the horizon. Hershel Greene was outside, tending to a small herd of goats, while Maggie and Beth carried water from the well.
Hershel noticed the truck and raised a hand. "Good afternoon. You must be the new neighbors."
Dale stepped out. "Dale Horvath, and this is my daughter, Nia. We just purchased the property next door."
Hershel studied them for a moment. "I see. Smart timing. You'll need to understand the land and the routines quickly if you plan to stay."
Nia's eyes scanned the fences and garden walls, noting weak points and potential areas to reinforce. "We plan to stay," she said simply. "We'll do whatever it takes to keep it secure."
Beth peeked around her sister. "You'll live here full-time?"
"Yes," Nia replied. "We want a defensible place, away from the city, where we can prepare for whatever comes."
Maggie nodded. "I'll show you around. The farm has its routines, and you'll need to learn them quickly."
Dale followed, while Nia observed quietly. Every fence post, every gate, every line of sight was catalogued in her mind. Her training—and the subtle enhancements of the golden finger system—made her acutely aware of weaknesses, threats, and opportunities.
Hershel led them first to the barn and pens. "Keep a careful eye on livestock," he advised. "Animals can be just as telling as humans for detecting unusual activity."
Night fell over the Greene farm, quiet but tense. Nia and Dale had inspected traps, reinforced weak points, and arranged patrols. Even with no immediate threat, the distant rustling of wildlife kept them alert. Nia stood on a ridge, scanning the tree line, while Dale organized supplies inside the farmhouse.
"Tomorrow we'll start regular patrols," Nia said softly. "Check the fences, traps, and boundaries every hour. Even a small lapse can be deadly."
Dale smiled faintly. "You've grown into someone I can trust with this. I'm proud of you."