Chapter 63: Story
After dinner, the group set up a simple camp circled by tents. Looking around, they were too excited to sleep. The little ones all gathered around Shawn, pestering him to tell them what had happened over the past two days.
Seeing that the adults in the team were also interested, Shawn began to tell a half-true, half-false story.
"Whoa—!"
"That night, it was earth-shattering! It moved ghosts and gods!"
"Women cried when they heard it, children stopped crying, and old men slapped their thighs!"
"Even those two pigs we brought back would have tucked their ears and hidden in their sty if they heard it!"
"To be honest, with children present, I really shouldn't be telling this story. But I can't resist the kids' enthusiasm."
Although he said he 'shouldn't say it', from his expression, it was clear that he was getting more and more into it. The children listened intently, and the old folks grinned from ear to ear. The adults were purely listening to it as a story. Who could blame them, with Shawn's exaggerated tone?
Carol, working on some trinkets she had brought along, watched with a smile as the firelight reddened Shawn's face. He sat there, telling a tall tale that left the kids completely stunned.
"It all happened in the blink of an eye!"
"I saw no less than a hundred walkers, all charging at me!"
"You wouldn't believe it, but these walkers were different from the usual ones. They were even faster than people!"
"But who am I—The Great Shawn!"
"With my strength, a few hundred years ago, I would have at least been respectfully called 'King Shawn'!"
"Facing a hundred walkers, I grabbed two dried fish from my side and looked at the label on the tail!"
"Guess what I saw?!" Shawn's tone dropped, his expression mysterious and profound. The children closest to him held their breath. Carl asked cautiously, "What did you see?"
The flames of the bonfire danced in Shawn's eyes. He scanned the crowd before speaking mysteriously. "I took a closer look, and I saw a few large words written on it!"
"Made in Florida!"
Fl… Florida?! The children's eyes widened, feeling that Shawn was unfathomably profound.
"That's right!" Shawn said with conviction.
"I thought to myself, since it's dried fish from Florida, it must be something special!"
"So I slapped my thigh and decided to hold a dried fish in each hand."
"In an instant, thunder roared! Lightning flashed! Sand and stones flew! Dark clouds gathered!"
"A hundred walkers, their eyes red, had already charged into the church!" Shawn's tone suddenly became heavy, scaring the children into shrinking back, their faces filled with trepidation.
"But I told you, who am I? King Shawn! How could I be afraid of these beasts?"
"The moment they got close, I used the two dried fish as a pair of nunchucks!"
"I attacked from both sides, beating them back with a flurry of blows."
"After two rounds, they were so beaten up that they turned around and smashed their own heads against the wall!"
At this point, Shawn's tone softened. He reached out and beckoned Carl closer, "Do you know why I used dried fish as nunchucks?"
Carl shook his head repeatedly.
Shawn looked around at everyone, and only after confirming that they were all listening intently did he nod in satisfaction.
"Heh—"
"These walkers smelled the scent of death on the dried fish and thought I was their walker daddy."
Huh?
"Hahaha, Shawn, you're so bad!" Beth laughed so hard she couldn't close her mouth. Who would call themselves a walker's daddy?
The adults in the camp also grinned, taking his story as a joke. But in the crowd, Daryl and Merle exchanged a strange look.
"Little brother, do you remember the almost-dried blood on Shawn when he came to save me?"
"You mean…"
"I don't think this is a story, although it sounds a bit too bizarre."
"That's true. How can walkers run so fast? And using dried fish to fight them is too ridiculous."
"No, no, what I mean is: walkers can actually kill themselves by running into walls?!"
"Go to hell, Merle. Are you teaming up with Shawn to mess with me too?"
The yard was suddenly filled with laughter. The atmosphere was completely different from when Shawn was not around.
Lori was lying in Rick's arms. He freed a slightly numb hand and raised his beer bottle to Shawn in a toast. Shawn looked over from a distance and raised his own beer in return. The two of them tilted their heads back and drained their beers in one go.
"Hah—" Shawn let out a long breath, the faint smell of malt and alcohol lingering in the air.
"Although it's not as good as a cold one, with this environment and these conditions, I don't know how many survivors out there would be jealous."
Buoyed by the alcohol, Shawn felt a little smug. But he had a right to be. Only he knew what had happened in the church. No one else had seen him in the disgraceful state of being nearly pushed to the brink by the Ferals. With a little embellishment, it became a completely different story.
Whether the others believed him or not, it didn't matter. Shawn had no intention of telling them the truth anyway. Even if he did, they might not believe him. So, for now, it was fine to treat it as a fun story. After all, wasn't he the one who always carried the weight, never asking about the future?
"I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight"
Shawn humming a song, shouldered his Stone Sledgehammer and cheerfully began to patrol the yard again. The worst thing you can do is celebrate halfway through and ruin all your previous efforts. So even though he was a little drunk, Shawn still forced himself to check every corner of the yard again, making sure there were no loopholes that would let walkers in.
After all, the story was the story, but reality was reality. Who knew if some small detail had been overlooked in reality. He considered this place his future base, so naturally, he had to be more careful.
But what Shawn didn't notice was that a figure from the crowd had silently followed him.
"Shawn."
The sudden voice from behind startled the slightly dazed Shawn. He swung the sledgehammer in a reverse grip, arcing it around to strike the person behind him. The hammer stopped, the barbed wire less than 5 centimeters from the person's face. Shane could even smell the rust and the thick scent of blood coming from it. Shawn had just killed people with this hammer this afternoon.
Shane looked at the hammer, secretly swallowed, and quickly said, "I just want to talk to you."
"What could we possibly have to talk about? I'm not Lori."
Hearing Shawn's words, Shane's pupils suddenly dilated. But he saw Shawn's face held a half-smiling expression, not at all like he was drunk. Shane even had a feeling that Shawn had actually discovered him when he had been sneaking up just now, but had simply chosen not to point it out.
*****
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