**THREE MONTHS LATER**
Micah Bell leaned casually against a post outside the motel, his eyes fixed on Carley as she moved about, tending to her tasks with Katjaa. He flashed her a cocky grin, the kind that made her skin crawl. "Hey there, Carley," he called out, his voice dripping with insincerity. "You know, if I were to pick a partner in this hellhole, it'd definitely be you. I mean, just look at you—smart, resourceful, and a real knockout."
Carley rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him as she focused on checking supplies. "Fuck off," she shot back, her tone icy.
Undeterred, Micah followed her around the motel, his footsteps echoing behind her. "Come on, don't be like that. You could do better than these idiots. I'm a guy who knows how to survive. I could keep you safe." He leaned closer, a smirk still plastered on his face.
Carley's stomach churned at his words. Micah's blatant sexism and underlying racism were repulsive to her. "I don't need your help, Micah. I can take care of myself," she snapped, quickening her pace.
Just then, a loud shout echoed from outside the motel gate. "Get the gates open! We've got wounded!" Lee's urgent voice cut through the tension.
Micah frowned, annoyance flashing across his features as he pulled out his revolver. "What the hell's going on here?" he muttered under his breath, irritation creeping into his tone.
The rest of the group rushed towards the gates as Lee and the other newcomers approached. Lee shoved aside one of the dumpsters blocking the entrance, and the group flooded in, their voices overlapping in a chaotic rush of questions and concerns.
"Shut up, all of ya! Everett, who the hell are these two damn kids?" Micah barked, his scowl deepening.
"Hey, you wanna calm down for a damn minute?!" Kenny shot back, his voice rising.
Micah pointed a finger menacingly at Kenny. "You best shut that trap of yours before I lay you out flat again."
Kenny clenched his jaw, visibly frustrated, and looked down, exhaling heavily.
"Jesus Christ," Mark sighed, shaking his head.
"He would've died if we left him!" Lee argued vehemently.
With a cold smirk, Micah retorted, "You think I care if he lives or dies? Out here, weakness gets you killed. If we left him, that's one less mouth to feed, one less liability."
"Well, hang on! We haven't even talked to these people yet! Maybe they can be helpful!" Carley interjected, trying to mediate the escalating situation.
"Help? You really think these folks are any different from the rest of them? They'll stab you in the back the moment you turn around. Trust is a luxury we can't afford," Micah replied dismissively.
"You know, you like to think you're the leader of this little group, but we can make our own goddamn decisions! This isn't your personal dictatorship!" Kenny shot back defiantly.
Micah's eyes narrowed. "Oh, so you think you can just take your little family and ride off into the sunset, huh? Go ahead. See how far you get on your own. This world isn't built for dreamers, Kenneth. It's built for survivors." His expression hardened.
"I'll do that," Kenny replied through gritted teeth as he stormed off.
Carley followed suit, her heart racing. She shot Micah a final glare, her disgust evident. Katjaa went to tend the shot teenager, and Clem dragged off the other teenager. It left only Lee and Micah standing near the RV. Lee felt a knot in his stomach. Micah's presence was unsettling; he exuded a malevolence that made Lee's skin crawl. Yet, as Micah spoke, Lee couldn't shake the feeling that there was a twisted logic to his words. Was he being manipulated? Lee doubted it. Micah didn't strike him as the intelligent type.
Micah stepped closer, leaning in conspiratorially. The scent of stale tobacco and something foul wafted from his breath, and Lee instinctively recoiled. "Look, Everett... I know that we don't have the best... uh, relationship," Micah began, licking his lips as if savoring the moment.
"And you're racist," Lee shot back, glaring.
"Well, whatever. I just don't like your kind... But listen. If Kenny leaves, what are you gonna do?" Micah's tone shifted, a predatory glint in his eyes.
Lee gulped, uncertainty flooding his mind. "I'll leave. With Clem," he replied, his resolve wavering.
Micah's smirk widened, the manipulation evident in his voice. "You really think you can protect her by yourself? Kenny won't help you. He and Katjaa will be too busy with their own son, and if it came down to it, Kenny would choose his wife over Clementine without a second thought."
Before Lee could respond, Micah leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You know Kenny's type. He's only friends with you because you always side with him. The moment you don't, he'd leave you for dead. You think he's your ally, but he's just using you."
Lee's heart raced, doubt creeping into his mind. Micah continued, "But me? I wouldn't leave you behind. You're useful, Lee. You're a survivor, and I need people like you around. Think about it—who else is going to keep you and Clem safe?"
Lee's mind swirled with conflicting thoughts, the weight of Micah's words pressing down on him. "I... I'll think about it," he finally admitted, uncertainty lacing his voice. Micah smiled, a predatory grin that sent a chill down Lee's spine, but at that moment, Lee felt trapped in the web of manipulation that Micah spun, uncertain of his next move.
Lee took a deep breath as he approached Kenny, who was leaning against the RV with his arms crossed.
"Hey, Lee," Kenny said, his voice strained. "You got a minute?"
"Yeah," Lee replied, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he felt the tension in his gut. "What's up?"
Kenny uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, his face taut with emotion. "Look, I know things are a bit crazy right now, but I want to talk about what happens next. If this place isn't safe, we need to figure out our next move."
Lee nodded, trying to keep his thoughts straight. "Right. I was thinking the same thing."
Kenny hesitated, then continued, "Katjaa and I, we're planning to take Duck and get out of here. You and Clem are more than welcome to join us."
Lee felt a rush of conflicting emotions. He knew he should feel relieved, that Kenny was offering them a way out, but something nagged at him. "I... I'm not sure yet," he said slowly, avoiding Kenny's gaze.
"Not sure?" Kenny's tone turned incredulous. "Why the hell wouldn't you want to leave this shitshow behind? Micah fuckin' crazy! You think he's going to keep you safe? He's just waiting for the moment to stab us in the back."
Lee caught himself wanting to defend Micah, but he knew deep down that Kenny was right about the danger. Still, he worked to maintain a neutral stance. "I just—"
"Just what, Lee?" Kenny interrupted, his voice rising with frustration. "You think sticking around with Micah is going to help you? That guy's a snake, and you know it. Why would you even consider staying with him?"
The defensiveness in Kenny's tone began to grate on Lee's nerves. "I'm not siding with anyone, Kenny! I'm just trying to think this through," he shot back, feeling anger bubbling up inside him.
"Think what through? That you might be better off with a guy who doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself?" Kenny's face was flushed, a mix of anger and desperation. "You think that's gonna keep you and Clem safe? You're better than that!"
Lee took a step back, his heart racing as he felt the conversation spiral out of control. "I'm not saying I want to stay with him!" he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I just don't want to rush into anything!"
At that moment, Carley approached, sensing the rising tension. She grabbed Lee's arm and pulled him away from Kenny. "Hey, what was that about?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
Lee sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Kenny wants us to leave with him and his family. He's worried about staying with Micah, but… I don't know. It's complicated."
Carley's expression hardened. "You're not seriously considering sticking around with Micah, are you? That guy is trouble, Lee. He's got his own agenda, and it doesn't involve keeping us safe."
"I know that," Lee replied, frustration creeping into his voice. "But I don't want to make a rash decision right now. It's not that simple."
Carley crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "It seems pretty simple to me. You can either trust Kenny, who has your back, or you can stay with someone who would throw you under the bus without a second thought."
Lee felt a pang of guilt at Carley's words, but he also felt a surge of anger at the situation. "I'm just trying to figure out what's best for Clem," he stated, his tone softer now. "And right now, I don't know what that looks like."
Carley's expression softened slightly, but she still looked concerned. "Just be careful, Lee. You can't let Micah get into your head. He's playing a game, and you can't afford to lose."
Meanwhile, Micah noticed Katjaa leaning against the truck, her hands smeared with blood as she stared down at the shot teenager, Travis. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and when she heard him approaching, she turned to face him, her expression a mix of exhaustion and sorrow. "He... didn't make it," she said softly, her voice trembling.
"Okay. So?" Micah shrugged, his indifference palpable.
Katjaa scoffed at his casual demeanor. "What about the other kid?" She glanced over at the other teenager, Ben, who was standing with Clementine and Duck; Ben's face drawn tight with anxiety.
Instead of answering, Micah drew his revolver in one swift motion, aimed, and fired. The crack of the gun echoed through the air, and Katjaa gasped in horror, believing for a fleeting moment that he had shot her. But as she turned to look, she saw the zombified teenager—Travis—slumped lifelessly in the truck bed, a bullet hole in its head.
The sound of the gunshot drew the rest of the group over, their faces a mix of confusion and alarm. Micah holstered his revolver, a smug smirk plastered across his face as he turned to Lee. "Well, well, looks like you brought someone here who was bitten," he said sarcastically. "Nice job, partner."
Lee gulped, shaking his head in disbelief. "He didn't tell us he was bitten."
Kenny stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with anger. "Why didn't you tell us he was bitten?!" he demanded, glaring at Ben.
"What?!" Ben stumbled back, panic evident in his voice.
"He was bitten and you didn't say a goddamn word!" Kenny shouted, his frustration boiling over.
"But he wasn't bitten, I swear!" Ben squeaked, desperation lacing his words.
"Well, look at that! Your little 'not-bitten' buddy here just decided to spring back to life, didn't he?" Micah chimed in, his tone dripping with bravado and sarcasm.
"What?! Wait, you all don't know?" Ben's eyes widened, confusion etched on his face.
Kenny's irritation spiked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Ben took a breath, his voice trembling. "It's not the bite that does it! You come back no matter how you die. If you don't destroy the brain, that's just what happens. It's gonna happen to all of us. When I first saw it happen, we were all hiding out in a gym and everybody thought we were finally safe. But one of the girls, Jenny Pitcher, I think, I guess she couldn't take it. She took some pills, a lot of them. Someone went in the girls' room the next morning and... God..."
Before anyone could respond, Carley suddenly shouted, "Back off!" Her gun was aimed at two men standing outside the fence, their hands raised in surrender. One of them held a gas can.
"Whoa, lady, relax! Me and my brother, we... we just wanna know if y'all can help us out," the man in the black sweater, Andy, said nervously.
Micah sauntered over, his gun already drawn and pointed at them. He shot Carley a glance, his lips curling into a smirk as he whispered, "Shoot one."
Carley looked at him, shock washing over her. "What?"
Micah's smirk widened. "Shoot." He turned his attention back to the men.
"So... can we put our hands—" Andy started, but his words were cut short as Micah pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing the man's skull.
The other man, Danny, dropped the gas can and instinctively reached for his rifle. Micah could have easily shot him too, but instead, he lingered, watching Carley's reaction.
In that split second, Carley's instinct for survival kicked in, and she squeezed the trigger, the gun firing with a loud crack as she shot Danny before he could react. The weight of what she had just done settled heavily in her stomach, and she felt sick for taking a life, even in self-defense.
Micah, however, seemed unfazed by the chaos he had instigated. He stood there, nonchalant and dismissive, as the group erupted in anger and confusion.
"What the hell, Micah? Why did you start shooting?" Kenny shouted, his voice laced with outrage.
"Yeah, you didn't have to do that!" Carley added, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and revulsion.
Micah shrugged, exuding a careless bravado. "Just eliminating threats, folks. You can't be too careful out here," he replied, taking a slow drag from a cigarette he had pulled from his pocket. He lit it with a flick of his lighter, the smoke curling around him as he walked away.
As he ambled past Lee and Mark, he tossed out a nonchalant order. "You two clean up the bodies from the street," he said, a sinister smile playing on his lips. He paused and patted Lee on the shoulder, a gesture that felt oddly manipulative. "Thanks for your help, partner," he said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie, a stark contrast to the racial slurs he usually hurled at him.
Lee felt a chill run down his spine as he processed Micah's words. The dismissive attitude, the casual violence, and the way he had tried to manipulate him..