Chapter 86: Seasons
The ranch was quiet in the afternoon.
Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the barn, drawing golden streaks across the haystacks.
Glenn sat as still as a log on the chestnut mare. His hands gripped the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his knees were pressed so hard against the horse's belly that it grew impatient. The horse snorted and pawed at the ground with its front hooves.
Glenn swayed slightly, and his expression changed.
"Relax."
Maggie stood beside him, arms crossed, a forced smile on her lips. "If you squeeze it too hard, it'll be the first thing to throw you off if it starts running."
Glenn took a deep breath and tried to relax his knees.
The horse calmed down a bit, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"So?"
"Much better."
Maggie walked over and patted the horse's neck. "At least you're not like the first time, lying on the horse's back yelling for help."
Glenn blushed.
"Don't mention that time. It was an accident."
"An accident? When you mounted the horse, your legs couldn't even reach the stirrups, and you were hanging under its belly. Did you scream for help, or did the horse scream for help?"
"I didn't shout for help." Glenn's voice was muffled.
"You did."
"That was me talking to the horse."
Maggie laughed loudly.
Glenn's heart skipped a beat when he saw her smiling face. He lowered his head, pretending to adjust the reins.
Maggie stopped laughing and looked at his profile. Something flashed in her eyes.
"Glenn."
"Hmm?"
"Do you want to hurry up?"
Glenn looked up, still not quite understanding.
Maggie had already climbed up using the stirrups and was sitting right behind him. Her arms wrapped around him, gripping the reins, her body pressed against his back.
Glenn stiffened like a fully drawn bow.
He could smell her scent—hay, sunshine, and a faint hint of horse.
His ears turned red.
"Ready, cowboy?" Maggie's voice was close to his ear, warm and ticklish.
Glenn's brain short-circuited.
"Pre… ready for what?"
Maggie chuckled and squeezed the horse's belly with her legs.
"Drive—"
The horse charged forward.
Glenn's screams echoed across the pasture, startling a flock of birds. Maggie's laughter followed his scream and disappeared into the woods.
Hershel sat in a rocking chair by the door, a beer in his hand, watching the horse carry two people into the grove. He took a slow sip with his eyes half-closed.
Otis sat next to him in a chair that was too small; his body was stuck between the armrests, and the chair creaked whenever he moved.
"I've been watching that Asian kid these past few days," Otis said, placing the beer on his stomach. "He genuinely likes Maggie. What do you think?"
Hershel swirled the glass, watching the amber liquid inside.
"That guy is a good person. Maggie will be happy with him in the future."
He paused. "But he still doesn't dare to confess to Maggie. When he sees me, he won't even look me in the eye, and he can't even greet me properly."
Otis smiled.
"Isn't that great? He's obviously a complete novice when it comes to dating. That's much better than some smooth-talking veteran who could steal your daughter away, right?"
Hershel glanced at him.
"No, it won't be."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll shove this shotgun down the throat of any lying kid."
Hershel patted the double-barreled shotgun leaning against the chair.
Otis paused for a second, then laughed.
Hershel smiled too. The two men clinked their bottles together and took another sip.
The side door of the house opened, and Beth and her boyfriend Jimmy stepped out.
Beth wore cropped cowboy shorts, her hair flowing down and shimmering gold in the sunlight. Jimmy followed behind her, wearing cowboy pants and a plaid shirt, his hair slicked back and shiny.
"Dad, let's go for a walk." Beth waved at Hershel.
Hershel nodded and glanced at Jimmy. Jimmy forced a smile, but it looked stiff.
"Hello, Uncle."
Hershel gave a short grunt in response.
The two of them walked toward the water tower.
Otis watched them go, set his beer on his stomach, and sighed.
"I don't really like that kid."
"Which one?"
"Jimmy. He's timid and hesitant when facing problems. His legs tremble when he sees danger. He has no manliness at all."
Hershel shook his head.
"I don't like it either, but Beth does. What can I do? Shove a gun into his mouth?"
Otis thought for a moment.
"Let's just shove it into that Asian kid's mouth instead. At least he looks better."
Hershel didn't respond. They continued drinking.
Next to the water tower was a small grove of trees. The trees were not dense, and sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
Beth walked in front, and Jimmy followed behind, keeping a distance of two or three steps.
"Beth…"
Jimmy suddenly spoke. "Do your family members not like me very much?"
Beth turned around.
"No, they just…"
"What? They look at me like I'm garbage. I was just scared when I first saw a bloody scene, wasn't I? Later, when those people from Umbrella Corporation came, didn't I stand up for them?"
He had hidden behind the crowd before, ready to run at any moment if things went wrong.
Beth stepped back and took his hand.
"They just need time."
Jimmy looked at her, remained silent for a moment, then pulled her into his arms.
Beth leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Jimmy's hand slowly slid down her back to her waist, paused for a moment, then continued downward, resting on the buttons of her cowboy shorts.
Beth stiffened slightly but did not push him away.
Jimmy lowered his head and kissed her forcefully, his hands beginning to unbutton her clothes.
A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.
It wasn't Beth's.
The hand was strong, with large knuckles and black dirt embedded under the nails.
Jimmy thought it was Hershel and was terrified.
He opened his eyes and saw a grayish-white face with sunken eye sockets, cloudy eyes, an open mouth, and black bloodstains on its teeth.
He screamed as his hand was bitten.
The teeth sank into the flesh, and the bones made a sickening crunch.
Blood spurted from between his fingers and splattered onto Beth's skirt.
Beth's scream shattered the afternoon silence.
She picked up a stick from the ground and struck the Walker on the head.
Once. Twice. Three times.
The stick broke, but the Walker did not stop.
Jimmy was dragged down as the Walker pinned him and shifted its bite from his hand to his chest.
Beth grabbed a rock and smashed it into the Walker's temple.
The stone was sharp and pierced the skull.
The Walker's body twitched, then released its grip and collapsed on top of Jimmy.
Beth pushed the body aside. Blood gushed from Jimmy's chest; his shirt was soaked red. His mouth was open, and his eyes stared blankly at the sky.
"Jimmy! Jimmy!" Beth shouted.
No response.
Beth stood and ran toward the house.
Her legs trembled, and after a few steps she fell, scraping her knee on a rock.
She got up and kept running.
More grayish-white figures emerged from the shadows of the trees behind her.
They were drawn by the screams and the scent of blood.