Micah, Lee, and Mark trekked through the dense forest, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. Micah's revolver rested securely in its holster at his hip. Lee held his rifle firmly in his hands, the weight of it both comforting and burdensome, while Mark casually slung his rifle over his shoulder.
"So, Micah... uh, what did you do before all this?" Mark inquired, breaking the silence that enveloped them.
"Before all this? I was just livin' the good life, you know? A little bit of trouble here and there, just like now. Ain't much changed, really." Micah shrugged, a nonchalant grin spreading across his face as if reminiscing about the past brought him joy.
Lee shook his head, a weary smile tugging at his lips. "Why am I not surprised?"
"What can I say? A man's gotta make a living somehow. Might as well have fun doin' it, right?" Micah replied with a hint of sarcasm, his eyes glinting mischievously.
"Why are we in the forest again?" Lee frowned, adjusting the rifle.
"We're in the forest 'cause we're lookin' for the place those two guys lived at. You know, the ones we took care of. Can't leave loose ends, can we?" Micah smirked, the dark humor of the situation evident in his tone.
"I guess we can't," Lee sighed, a big frown etching deeper into his features.
"Why did you even start shooting?" Mark raised his voice, frustration evident in his tone.
Micah chuckled darkly. "Told ya. I just took care of the threat, plain and simple."
"They could've helped us or something," Lee interjected, a spark of hope flickering in his voice.
"Yeah, how would you know they were a threat?" Mark frowned, glancing at Micah with a mixture of disbelief and concern.
"I saw it in their eyes, ya know? Been around all kinds of folks since I was a kid. You pick up on these things," Micah replied, his smirk unwavering. "Anyway, Everett, you think about what I told ya?"
"I think... I-I'm takin' Clem with me and leaving with Kenny," Lee said, determination creeping into his voice.
"Ugh, you're a damn idiot. What the hell's his plan, anyway?" Micah groaned dramatically, his frustration palpable.
Mark chimed in. "I heard that he's planning to go to Savannah and get a boat."
Micah laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the trees. "You really think that's some kinda unique idea? I'll bet ya my nuts that every single boat's been taken or sunk. That's a dead plan, my friend. Look at us—we've been makin' it together for three months, right? And I'm the one callin' the shots. You starved in that time? No? You really think you'd be doin' that good followin' Kenneth? He's just lookin' out for himself and his little family."
As the words hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloped them. Lee's heart raced, his mind a tumult of conflicting emotions. Deep down, he couldn't shake the gnawing doubt that Micah might be right. He wanted to believe in Kenny, to hold on to the hope that his friend wouldn't abandon him and Clementine when it mattered most. But what if Micah's words held a kernel of truth?
Lee's thoughts spiraled, questioning everything he thought he knew about Kenny. If Micah was right, was Kenny truly the type of person who would leave Lee for dead if he didn't side with him just once? Could he trust him, or was he just a selfish survivor, willing to sacrifice anyone for his own survival? The weight of uncertainty pressed down on Lee's chest, making it hard to breathe. He didn't want to believe it, but the seeds of doubt had been planted, and they took root in the darkest corners of his mind.
Nearby, the tension in the air thickened as the sounds of an argument pierced through the dense foliage.
"You think you're gonna cut me outta this?" a man shouted, his voice laced with anger.
Startled, the trio crouched down, instinctively moving closer to the source of the confrontation. Mark and Micah swiftly drew their weapons, the metallic clicks echoing.
"No one is trying to cut you outta anything!" another voice responded, defensive yet strained.
"You and Gary are always pulling this shit! Don't think I haven't noticed!" the first man retorted, the frustration in his tone unmistakable.
"Hm..." Micah hummed thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation.
"Calm down, your paranoia is pissing everyone off!" the second man snapped, his voice rising in desperation.
Lee felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he shifted his weight, changing knees to lean on. He glanced at Micah, uncertainty etched across his features. "...What's your call?"
Mark looked at Lee in shock, his disbelief evident. The tension between the men grew palpable, and Lee's heart raced as he awaited Micah's decision, unsure of where his allegiance lay.
Micah's grin widened, a gleam of satisfaction flickering in his eyes. He relished the chaos, the opportunity to manipulate the situation to his advantage. "Well, boys," he drawled, his voice low and steady, "looks like we might have some unwanted company. And you know what they say about loose ends."
He glanced at Mark, then back at Lee, gauging their reactions. "I say we let them know we're not to be trifled with. A little fear goes a long way, don't ya think?"
Lee's stomach churned at Micah's words, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. While he understood the practicality of taking control, there was a nagging voice in his head warning him against Micah's ruthless tendencies. Was this really the kind of man he wanted to align himself with?
Mark shifted nervously, his grip on his weapon faltering. "You're not serious, right? We can't just go around shooting people like that!"
Micah shrugged, an air of indifference washing over him. "What's the alternative? Let 'em walk away? No way. We need to send a message, and I'm the one to do it."
Lee swallowed hard. He felt the weight of Micah's gaze on him, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air. If he didn't act, would he be seen as weak? But if he did, what kind of person would he become?
Lee's mind raced, the conflict gnawing at him. He had to make a choice. Was he willing to embrace Micah's dark approach for the sake of survival? Or could he find another way, one that didn't compromise his humanity?
With a sudden surge of energy, Micah sprang to his feet, his movement a blur that startled both Lee and Mark. In a split second, he had his revolver drawn, the weapon glinting ominously in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He took aim, his focus unwavering. The argument had escalated, and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
The crack of gunfire echoed through the forest, sharp and final. The bandit who had been shouting crumpled to the ground, a clean shot right between the eyes. Blood splattered against the nearby trees.
The second man, now a witness to the violence, took a step back, eyes wide and panic-stricken. He raised his shotgun, the barrel trembling as he aimed it at Micah. "What the fuck!?" he shouted, his voice a mix of shock and fear.
Mark and Lee instinctively stood up, rifles raised and aimed at the man, their hearts racing. The tension in the air was palpable, a standoff brewing in the depths of the forest. "Don't move!" Lee barked, his voice steadier than he felt.
The man cursed under his breath, sweat beading on his forehead as he looked between Micah and the two rifles aimed at him. "Fuck!" he spat, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado.
Micah stepped forward, a sly smile stretching across his face as he basked in the control of the situation. "You really think you can just cursing at me? That ain't how this works, pal." He gestured dismissively at the body on the ground. "Now, are you gonna drop that piece, or do I have to make you?"
With a shaky breath, the man's grip on the shotgun faltered, and he cursed again, frustration mingling with fear. "Fine! Just... just don't shoot!" He dropped the weapon, the clatter echoing in the silence that followed.
Micah's eyes glimmered with a predatory satisfaction. "Smart choice," he taunted, leaning in closer. "Now, I suggest you take a long walk back to wherever you came from, and tell ya men to stay away from here. Otherwise you all with end up like that one." He points at the dead man.
The man's anger flared, but it was quickly snuffed out by the realization of his situation. He nodded furiously, eyes darting between Micah, Lee, and Mark. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just let me go."
"Good," Micah replied, a triumphant smirk on his lips. "Now scram."
The man took a step back, his gaze locked on Micah, then turned and bolted into the trees, leaving his shotgun behind in a hurried escape.
"Mark, grab that gun," Micah ordered, his tone commanding as he watched the man disappear into the underbrush.
Mark hesitated, glancing at Lee, who gave a slight nod of encouragement. With reluctance, he bent down to pick up the shotgun.
Lee took a breath, trying to process what had just unfolded. "Weren't we looking for the place those other men were staying at?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion.
Micah shrugged, casually holstering his revolver with an air of nonchalance. "Those two weren't with the one I shot. Trust me on that."
Mark straightened up, still grappling with the implications of their encounter. "How do you know?" he pressed, the skepticism clear in his voice.
Micah shot him a sidelong glance, his smirk returning. "I saw it in their eyes," he replied, the confidence in his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You get to know folks pretty well when you've been around as long as I have."