The Walking Dead : Lee Everett

Chapter 23: Chapter 22 : Responsibility and Rescue



With Glenn's departure, the remaining members of the group turned their focus to improving the farm's defenses. The sense of responsibility weighed heavily on Lee's shoulders. Though Glenn's decision to leave had been difficult, there was no time for hesitation. The world outside was dangerous, and the farm needed to be fortified—perhaps more than ever.

Lee's father, a seasoned carpenter with experience in construction, had been quietly observing the state of the farm's defenses. He had been making small improvements over the past few days, strengthening doors, securing windows, and reinforcing whatever structure they could salvage. But as the sun rose one morning, he proposed an idea that would set the group on a new course. The electric fences surrounding the property were a good deterrent, but he knew that even electricity wasn't always a foolproof solution. The walkers were relentless, and a large enough group might be able to overcome the shock.

"I've worked on construction sites before,"

Lee's father said one evening, looking out at the fence lines.

"We need something stronger. We need to build a concrete foundation beneath the fences—something solid that will hold up against the pressure of a crowd. And we can swap out these old fences for metal plates. We can use the scraps from the city."

Lee thought about it for a moment. The idea made sense. A concrete base would anchor the fences firmly, preventing them from toppling over if a horde pushed against them. The metal plates, scavenged from the remnants of the city, would provide an impenetrable barrier. They could do it. They just needed the materials.

And so, they set to work. For several days, Lee, Kenny, and Natasha helped build the foundations, pouring the concrete in the early mornings and allowing it to set in the heat of the day. It was grueling, back-breaking work, but it was progress. However, as the days wore on, it became clear that their stash of metal scraps wasn't going to be enough. They had stripped the local area as much as they could, but the metal plates required for the fence were still in short supply.

Lee knew they had to make a quick trip into the city. Time was of the essence. They could either risk the trip now, or wait until the situation became even more dire.

The morning they left, the sky was clear and bright, a sharp contrast to the heaviness in their hearts. The air was still, the silence of the farm pressing against their senses. Lee, Kenny, and Natasha gathered their gear, each of them with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a supply run—it was a risk. The city was a dangerous place, and they didn't know what would be waiting for them. But there was no other option.

Kenny drove the truck, its engine roaring to life as they pulled out of the farm's gates. Lee sat in the back, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Natasha was in the passenger seat, rifle at the ready. She had a sharp eye, and Lee knew that her presence made them all a little safer. But there was no foolproof plan—every step outside the farm was a gamble.

The roads leading into the city were a twisted mess of abandoned vehicles and rubble. As they drove through the outskirts, Lee noticed the remnants of old life—torn up signs, overturned grocery carts, and empty buildings. The once-bustling streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind or the distant groan of a walker.

"Keep your eyes peeled,"

Lee said, his voice steady despite the tension.

"We don't know what's out there."

Kenny grunted in agreement, navigating the truck around the debris with practiced ease. The city was a maze now, but they knew where to go. They had scouted the area before, marking places where scraps were likely to be. There was a warehouse they'd seen on previous trips, full of abandoned equipment. That's where they were heading—if they could get in and out without attracting too much attention, they could secure what they needed.

When they reached the warehouse district, the familiar sight of decaying buildings and broken windows met them. The place had an eerie stillness to it, the streets empty but for a few scattered, shuffling walkers. Kenny parked the truck at a distance, and the three of them climbed out.

The air smelled faintly of rust and decay, and Lee's boots crunched against the gravel as they moved swiftly toward the warehouse. Natasha took point, her rifle held ready as she surveyed the area. Lee and Kenny followed closely behind, their eyes darting over every corner. The city, once a thriving center of life, now felt like a tomb.

They reached the warehouse without incident, though the tension in the air was palpable. Lee pushed open the rusted door, and the hinges creaked in protest. Inside, the warehouse was dim, its high windows coated in grime. Piles of discarded metal, broken-down vehicles, and shattered crates littered the floor. It was a treasure trove of materials—but it was also a potential deathtrap.

"We'll need to work fast,"

Lee said, his voice low.

They set to work immediately. Lee and Kenny scoured the wreckage, hauling large metal plates from abandoned vehicles and broken machinery. Natasha kept watch, her sharp eyes never leaving the entrance. The faint groans of walkers echoed from the streets outside, but there was no sign of immediate danger.

After what felt like an eternity, they had enough scrap metal to fortify the farm. The truck was loaded, the heavy plates strapped down with rope. Lee took one last look around the warehouse, making sure there were no surprises waiting for them. Then, with the load secured, they made their way back to the truck.

The return journey was tense, but uneventful. As they drove back through the city, Lee couldn't shake the feeling that something was lurking just beyond their vision. The city was full of surprises—good and bad—and he knew they had gotten lucky this time.

When they finally reached the farm, the weight of the day's journey settled into their bones. The scrap metal was exactly what they needed to finish fortifying the fence. The concrete foundations were strong, and now, with the metal plates in place, the fence would hold against even the most determined walkers.

But Lee knew that, no matter how strong the fences were, there would always be more to do. The world outside was unforgiving, and the group had to remain vigilant. Every decision was a step toward survival. And with each step, they were getting closer to making the farm a place where they could continue to live—if only for a little while longer.

In the days that followed, the farm began to take on a new rhythm, a sense of purpose that hadn't been there before. With the reinforced fence now in place, the farm was much safer, but there was still work to be done. Everyone pitched in to make the place more sustainable for the long term.

Hershel's family, who had always been skilled with animals and farming, were a vital asset. The farm had always grown crops, but now it had to do so with a new urgency. People began working the fields in earnest, planting vegetables that could sustain them for the coming months. The air was filled with the sounds of planting, digging, and the occasional banter as the group worked side by side.

At the same time, others were tending to the animals in the barn—feeding them, milking the cows, collecting eggs from the chickens. Dairy became a precious commodity, and with the supply of fresh milk, cheese, and butter, their meals gained a new richness that had been sorely lacking in their diet. The smell of fresh milk and the clatter of hooves became part of the farm's daily soundtrack, a reminder that even in the midst of chaos, life could still thrive.

Despite the bustling energy around him, Lee pushed himself harder than anyone. The task of making the farm not just a safe haven but a functioning home weighed heavily on his mind. He moved from one task to the next with relentless determination—repairing tools, checking fences, helping with the crops, coordinating the care of the animals. There was no task too small or too large for him to take on. He was everywhere at once, his hands constantly busy.

Lee barely took a moment for himself. He would pause for short breaks, catching his breath, but only long enough to replenish his energy and then return to his work. His hands were calloused, his muscles sore, but he pushed through it all as if it was second nature. There was something in his eyes—a fierce determination that made it clear he was not about to stop. But to those around him, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Lee was pushing himself too far.

Kenny, Natasha, and even his father started to notice the strain in his movements. There was no visible sign of rest, no moments when Lee allowed himself to simply relax and recover. His body showed the wear of constant labor—his shoulders hunched, his face drawn with fatigue—but it never stopped him from continuing.

"I don't know how he does it,"

Kenny said one evening, looking out over the field as Lee carried a heavy bundle of firewood. His face was flushed, sweat dripping from his brow, but his pace never slowed.

Natasha shook her head, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I've seen people burn out before. He can't keep this up forever."

Lee's father, who had been quietly observing his son for days, walked over and placed a hand on Lee's shoulder, stopping him mid-step.

"You need to rest, Lee," he said, his voice rough but gentle.

"We're all working hard, but we've got to take care of ourselves. The farm won't survive if we burn ourselves out."

Lee nodded but didn't slow his pace. He was too focused, too driven by the urgency of their situation. They needed more food, they needed the farm to be fully operational, and he was determined to make sure that it happened. It wasn't just about survival for him; it was about proving to the group—and perhaps to himself—that he could keep it all together.

"I'm fine,"

Lee said with a tight smile, though his voice was strained.

"Just need to finish this last round, and then I'll take a break."

His father looked at him, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing more. He knew Lee too well to push him too hard, but the concern was evident in his eyes.

In the evenings, as the sun began to set and the work slowed down, the group would gather around the farmhouse for dinner. The atmosphere was heavy, yet there was a quiet sense of accomplishment in the air. The animals were fed, the fields were growing, and the fences stood strong—everything was moving toward a future they hadn't dared to hope for until now.

As dinner wrapped up, Lee stood, his chair scraping against the floor, and without a word, he headed toward the door. He didn't linger. He didn't allow himself the comfort of rest. There was always something else to be done. Natasha, who had been watching him closely, stood up and followed him outside.

"Lee,"

She said, her voice gentle but firm.

"You're pushing yourself too hard. We all see it."

Lee paused for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly as the weight of her words sank in. He knew she was right. He had been at it for days now, and yet, every time he tried to slow down, his mind wouldn't let him. The guilt, the sense of responsibility—it all pushed him forward, constantly driving him.

He turned to her with a weary smile.

"I know. I'll take a break so—"

"I'm not saying it to stop you,"

Natasha cut him off, her tone soft but with an edge of concern.

"What's the matter? Why are you in such a hurry? That's what I want to know."

Lee glanced at her, noticing the worry in her eyes. It wasn't just about the work anymore. She could see through the exhaustion, the determination that was bordering on obsession. There was something deeper, something he hadn't shared with anyone else. He sighed deeply, the weight of it all pressing on him.

"I'm planning to go to Atlanta,"

Lee said quietly, his voice carrying the burden of his decision.

"What?"

Natasha asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. She quickly lowered her voice so no one else would overhear.

"You know how bad the city was when we left. By now, it must be crawling with Walkers. Why would you wanna go to that hellhole?"

Lee didn't respond immediately. He turned his gaze away, staring off into the distance, his mind racing. He knew the risks. He knew how dangerous it was. The city was a death trap now, overrun by the undead.

"I want to look for Carl's parents,"

Lee finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I drove the car away and separated the kid from his family. It's my responsibility to at least look for them."

He gave her a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was already turning back to the barn, eager to finish what he had started. There wasn't much to do anymore, not with the farm secure. But his mind kept racing, the need to make things right overshadowing everything else. After tonight, he could leave and not worry about the farm falling apart. The others could manage. He had to do this, even if it meant leaving everything behind for a while.

Natasha didn't speak immediately. She stayed quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. She had been sitting next to Lee when they drove away—unaware of what was happening, unaware of the family they were leaving in the chaos. She could have checked the backseat. She could have known. But now, that unknowing felt like a mistake, a regret she couldn't undo.

As Lee returned to the barn, his footsteps steady but heavy, Natasha followed after a few moments of thought. She joined him, her presence a quiet reminder that she wasn't letting him carry this burden alone.

"You don't have to do this alone, Lee," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

"I'll help. We'll find them together."

Lee turned to her, a flash of surprise crossing his face. He had expected resistance, or at least concern, but Natasha's words were unwavering. She wasn't backing down, not this time.

"I can handle it,"

Lee replied, but Natasha wasn't convinced. She had seen the weight of the situation in his eyes, and she wasn't going to let him walk into danger alone.

"This needs to be done quickly," she said, her voice steady.

"And we have to find Carl's parents. I'll go with you, Lee. You don't have to do this on your own."

Lee opened his mouth to protest, but Natasha's determined smile silenced him.

"It's not just your responsibility, Lee. It's mine too. We're in this together. Let's do this together."

He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in a long while. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no fear. Just the same quiet determination he had seen in her all along. She was ready to face whatever came next, just as he was. And for the first time in days, Lee allowed himself to breathe, to let the weight of the decision settle in a little.

"Alright," he said finally, a sense of peace washing over him.

"Let's get it done."

And so, side by side, they returned to their work, the burden of the journey ahead lighter in their shared resolve. They would find Carl's parents, no matter what it took. Together.

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Lee entered his room and let the door close behind him with a soft thud. Without a second thought, he threw himself onto the bed, his body sinking into the worn mattress as the weight of the day threatened to crush him. He let out a long sigh, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, his mind replaying the moment he had just endured.

The group had been gathered in the living room, the atmosphere tense but expectant. He had made the announcement about his trip to Atlanta with Natasha. He explained his plan to search for Carl's parents, his voice steady, even though his heart felt anything but. When he mentioned that Carl would accompany them, the boy had looked at him with a mix of surprise and determination. Lee had expected that reaction.

What he hadn't expected was Clementine's quiet, hopeful gaze.

As he spoke, Lee had felt her eyes on him. That small, fragile hope that flickered in her expression cut deeper than he cared to admit. He had tried not to look at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking, what she was wishing for. Clementine's parents. Her mind had surely raced to Savannah, to the faint possibility that her mom and dad could still be alive, waiting for her. That hope was a fragile flame she carried, one that Lee couldn't bring himself to extinguish—not outright.

But Lee knew the truth.

He closed his eyes, letting out another sigh as the memory of her hopeful expression replayed in his mind. He knew Carl's parents were still alive. The question he had been answered after all.

Carl was the son of Rick Grimes, The Protagonist of this World.

Also because of this prompt given by the System

[Go to Atlanta and join the main group

Reward: The Apocalypse Pack]

He remembered from the reels and some of his friends about how Rick Grimes, The Protagonist starts in this world after the month of its beginning, This was also one of the reasons why he was risking to go to Atlanta, He wanted to see the reward from the System and also get to the Main group.

This was why he knew that Carl's parents were alive. But Clementine's parents… Lee knew they were gone. They had been gone for a long time, and no amount of searching would change that.

"Kenny, Hershel, and Carly will lead the group while Natasha and I are gone,"

Lee announced, his gaze moving from face to face.

"Kenny, you've got the strength and experience to protect everyone. Hershel, you know this farm better than anyone, and your wisdom will guide them. Carly, I trust you to stay sharp and handle whatever comes your way. The three of you together will make sure everything runs smoothly."

Kenny gave a firm nod, his face set with determination. Hershel's lips thinned, but he gave a silent acknowledgment. Carly, arms crossed, met Lee's gaze and offered a quick, confident nod.

Lee's eyes shifted to Lily, who stood slightly apart from the rest, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She didn't look pleased but didn't argue either. For all her standoffishness, she hadn't made any move to leave the group. Whether it was loyalty or stubbornness, Lee wasn't sure, but he chose to trust her—for now.

"Lily," he said, his voice softening slightly.

"I'm trusting you to help keep things in order here. We all want the same thing—safety, and stability. Let's make sure we don't lose sight of that."

Lily didn't say anything, but her stiff posture eased slightly. A small nod was all she offered in return. Lee could tell she wasn't entirely on board, but for now, it was enough.

Before wrapping up, Lee pulled Shawn aside, away from the others. The younger man looked at him curiously, his brows furrowed as Lee leaned in slightly.

"I need you to keep an eye on Lily,"

Lee said in a low voice.

Shawn blinked, surprised.

"Lily? Why? She's been keeping to herself mostly. I don't see her causing trouble."

Lee placed a hand on Shawn's shoulder, his expression serious.

"It's not that I don't trust her, but I've seen people snap under pressure before. You don't need to confront her or anything, just… be aware. Watch her."

Shawn hesitated, still puzzled, but there was something in Lee's tone that made him nod.

"Alright. If you think it's necessary, I'll do it."

"Good,"

Lee said, patting Shawn's shoulder.

Lee's parents tried to stop him but Lee calmly convinced them.

Maggie approached him. Her jaw was set with determination, her voice firm as she announced,

"I'm coming with you."

Lee froze mid-motion, glancing up at her.

"No, Maggie. You're staying here."

"Lee, you need all the help you can get, and I'm not just going to sit here while you and Natasha head straight into danger," she shot back, her tone heated.

Before Lee could respond, he caught a glimpse of Hershel standing nearby, his expression betraying his unspoken fears. The older man's face was lined with worry, his lips pressed into a tight line as if he wanted to intervene but couldn't find the words.

Lee turned his attention back to Maggie, his voice calm but firm.

"Maggie, you're needed here. This group relies on you. If something happens while I'm gone, they'll need your strength and leadership. You're one of the few people they can always count on."

"But—"

Maggie began to protest, her voice faltering.

"No,"

Lee interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"You're staying. The farm needs you more than we do out there."

Maggie hesitated, her determination wavering as she glanced at her father. Hershel gave Lee a subtle nod, his gratitude evident in the way his shoulders relaxed just slightly. The thought of losing his daughter was more than he could bear, and Lee had spared him from having to voice that fear.

"Fine,"

Maggie muttered, though the frustration in her voice couldn't mask the worry in her eyes.

"But you'd better come back, Lee. All of you."

Lee gave her a small smile.

"That's the plan."

To which Maggie threw herself in his arms as she hugged him hard for a while.

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The Next Morning

The hum of the engine filled the air as the jeep rumbled along the empty roads, broken only by the occasional crackle of debris under the tires. The once-bustling highway was now a stretch of desolation, dotted with abandoned cars, remnants of shattered lives, and the occasional walker shambling aimlessly in the distance. Lee kept his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes scanning the road for any signs of danger.

Behind him, Carl sat with his backpack hugged to his chest, his face lighting up at the thought of seeing his mother again. His excitement was palpable, a spark of innocence amidst the weight of their journey.

"How long will it take us?"

Carl asked, his voice breaking the quiet tension inside the jeep.

Lee glanced at him briefly through the rearview mirror, his expression softening.

"Three hours at most," he said.

"Sit tight till then."

Carl nodded, bouncing slightly in his seat, his eagerness contagious. Natasha turned her head, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. She knew how much this trip meant to him and hoped for his sake that it would bring him the closure he needed. Reaching toward the center console, she rifled through Lee's collection of CDs until she found the one she liked.

"Let's see if this thing still works,"

She said with a grin, popping the disc into the car's player. A familiar, upbeat pop song crackled to life, its cheerful rhythm cutting through the stillness. Natasha leaned back in her seat, glancing at Carl, who was already mouthing the lyrics, the excitement in his face growing.

Lee's fingers tightened momentarily on the steering wheel as the music filled the jeep, his focus briefly shifting from the road to the scene unfolding beside him. Natasha and Carl were gearing up to sing, their expressions lighter than he'd seen in weeks. For a second, he thought about turning the music off to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but something stopped him.

He caught himself smiling—a rare, genuine smile that he didn't even try to suppress. The melody was cheesy, the voices slightly off-key, but in that moment, it didn't matter. He didn't have the heart to interrupt. They deserved this moment, this fleeting bit of normalcy in a world that had taken so much from them.

Natasha nudged Carl, and the two broke into song, their voices filling the car with laughter and lyrics. Carl's high-pitched notes clashed with Natasha's playful attempts to harmonize, and Lee couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. For a brief moment, the weight of their journey lifted, replaced by something lighter, something that almost felt like happiness.

The road ahead was clear, and for now, the area wasn't overrun. Lee also joined in singing after Carl looked at him which was a look of expectant to join in as well.

The sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting long shadows over the deserted landscape. They were lucky—for now.

As the song ended and another began, Natasha leaned back in her seat, catching Lee's eye.

"You've got an interesting taste in music, Lee,"

She teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lee smirked but kept his eyes on the road.

"Hey, don't blame me. These CDs were in the car when I bought it."

"Sure they were"

Natasha said with a grin, exchanging a knowing look with Carl.

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"Hey! Stop that!"

The voice echoed sharply across the rooftop as tensions flared among the group. A tall man in a worn cop uniform stepped between and stopped the problem with violence.

One of the men, a wiry figure with a nervous energy, huffed in frustration and walked toward the edge of the rooftop, gripping the rusted parapet. He peered down at the chaos below—a sea of walkers shuffling aimlessly, their grotesque figures crowding the street like a slow-moving tide of death. The sight sent a chill down his spine, and he stepped back slightly, muttering a curse under his breath.

"We're stuck up here,"

Someone else said, their voice tinged with desperation.

"There's no way we're getting through that. Not without turning into one of them."

The group stood in tense silence, each of them racking their brains for a solution. Ideas were thrown out—creating a distraction, waiting it out—but none seemed plausible. The weight of their predicament pressed down on them, the hopelessness growing heavier with each passing second.

Then, faintly at first, they heard it—a low, distant rumble. The sound grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable growl of an engine. Heads turned as they strained to locate the source of the noise.

"What the hell is that?"

The wiry man whispered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the street below.

A vehicle came into view, navigating the maze of abandoned cars and shambling walkers. It was a jeep, its engine roaring defiantly against the silence of the apocalyptic city. The sight of it sent a spark of hope through the group, though it was tempered by caution.

As the jeep maneuvered closer, the wiry man's radio crackled to life, startling everyone. He snatched it up immediately, his hands shaking slightly as he brought it to his mouth.

"Hello? Anybody there?" 

He said, his voice trembling with equal parts hope and desperation. For a moment, there was only static. The group held their breath, the anticipation thick in the air.

Then, a voice finally came through, smooth and familiar, laced with just the right amount of teasing confidence.

"Hey Glenn, you missed me?"

Glenn froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. Recognition washed over him, and a smile broke across his face—a rare, genuine expression of relief and joy.

"No way..." he muttered, gripping the radio tightly.

"Lee? That you?"

The voice on the other end chuckled softly.

"Who else would it be? Thought I'd swing by and see if you needed a lift."

Lee wasted no time outlining his plan to get the rooftop survivors to safety. His calm and steady tone gave Glenn confidence, though the rest of the group remained skeptical.

"I'm going to use the jeep to lead the walkers away,"

Lee said through the radio.

"I'll keep honking the horn to draw their attention. While I'm doing that, you all find a way down and get to a vehicle."

The group on the rooftop exchanged uncertain glances. Most of them had never heard of Lee, and trusting a stranger during a crisis wasn't an easy decision. But seeing no other option, they nodded in agreement. Even the cop, though visibly hesitant, decided it was worth the risk.

"We'll give it a shot,"

Glenn replied into the radio.

"Just... don't get yourself killed, alright?"

"Wouldn't dream of it,"

Lee said with a hint of a smile in his voice before the radio cut out.

Lee immediately began executing his plan. Driving slowly down the road, he tapped the jeep's horn at intervals, the sound reverberating through the streets. The walkers, like moths to a flame, turned their attention toward the noise. Their grotesque forms shambled after the jeep, leaving the area around the building significantly clearer. Lee kept the vehicle at a steady pace, just far enough ahead to avoid danger but close enough to hold their attention.

Meanwhile, back at the building, the group scrambled down to the lower floors. Every creak of the old stairwell and muffled sound made their nerves tighten. At the back of the building, the cop spotted a large delivery truck parked near a loading dock. Its condition looked rough, but with a quick check, the engine sputtered to life. Relief washed over the group.

"Found us a way out,"

The cop said, motioning everyone toward the truck.

They moved quickly, quietly piling into the back of the vehicle. Glenn took a spot near the front, his radio clutched tightly in his hand. The truck was now positioned at the back entrance, safely out of sight of the remaining walkers still milling around the area.

Glenn quickly radioed Lee, Telling him the location of his group's base which is right outside of the city, nearby.

Lee kept leading the walkers for a while and with one last horn, He took off to the base Glenn had told him about.

He was about to meet the Main Group.

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[A/N]: Hi Guys, Sorry for not publishing Chapter for such a long time, I was busy in setting my Pa7r30n, The Chapters of the Walking Dead are available there as well now and the further updates of the Chapters will be published on the Pa7r30n first.

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