NOVEL WEB Chapter 27: Woodbury II
GOT: The Dangerous Traveler 27
Lyn Corbray
Year 2010 A.D. – Georgia
Lyn knelt beside Merle's corpse, observing the man's face with a mix of interest and disdain. "Guess I can make use of this," he muttered to himself as he unsheathed one of his daggers.
With surgical precision, Lyn began to cut the skin from Merle's face, removing it in a methodical and calculated process. His movements were efficient, almost indifferent, as if he were performing a routine task. Once finished, he held the bloodied skin and examined it. "Perfect," he said with a twisted smile. He carried out the same ritual he had done with Randall. The young man also took the opportunity to collect the map.
Finally, Lyn stood up, stepping back a few paces to put on the mask. As he did so, his body began to change. His frame adapted to match Merle's; his height adjusted, his shoulders broadened slightly, and, most notably, his hand disappeared so that Merle's prosthesis fit perfectly. The transformation was quick, but every detail was adjusted with precision.
To complete the scene he wanted to portray, Lyn took one of his swords and lightly cut his cheek, leaving a trail of blood that added authenticity to his disguise. "Now we're ready," he said softly, admiring his distorted reflection in the blade of his sword. "Time to head back."
Lyn returned to the camp where Ciri and Maggie were waiting. As he approached, he kept his head down, letting the hood conceal part of his face. Ciri was the first to notice him, her hand instinctively moving toward her sword. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously.
"Who do you think?"
Lyn raised his gaze, letting the firelight illuminate his new appearance. Maggie stepped back, confused and alarmed by the unfamiliar presence. A glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes.
Ciri frowned, observing him more closely. Something about Lyn's tone, his posture, felt familiar. "Wait... Lyn, is that you?"
He smiled, his voice adopting its usual tone. "Who else would it be, my dear Ciri?"
Maggie stared at him, still incredulous. "What the hell is going on here? How did you do that? How are you Lyn?"
Lyn ignored her question and handed his swords to Ciri. "Take care of these for me. I can't take them where I'm going."
"How long will your stupid game take?" Ciri asked.
"Shouldn't be more than a couple of days. Maybe I'll wrap it all up in one. No need to miss me," Lyn said with a chuckle.
"That's not why I'm asking, idiot. And don't cause too much chaos."
"That's like asking gravity to make things fall slower," Lyn replied, and Ciri didn't bother trying to convince him further.
Within minutes, Lyn was walking through the forest, following the directions on the map he had found on Merle's corpse. Each step brought him closer to the spot marked as the weapons stash. The terrain was rough, with roots protruding from the ground and thorny bushes scratching his clothes, but he moved forward with unshakable confidence.
Finally, he reached an area where the trees were less dense. Ahead of him stood an old shed covered in moss. The wooden planks were worn, but the structure seemed sturdy enough to withstand the passage of time. Lyn pulled out the map and compared it to the surroundings. "This must be the place," he murmured.
Carefully, he pushed the shed's door open, which creaked loudly. The interior was dark, but a beam of light filtering through a hole in the roof illuminated one corner. There, under a pile of tarps and old boxes, he found several sealed metal containers.
Lyn opened them one by one, revealing an arsenal: rifles, pistols, ammunition, and explosives. "Well, Governor," he said with a twisted smile. "Looks like you were ready for a war."
After ensuring everything was there, Lyn closed the containers and dragged one of them out. He couldn't carry everything, but he made sure to take enough to make his rescue mission seem credible. With a final glance at the shed, he headed toward Woodbury.
At the gates of Woodbury, Lyn adjusted the makeshift mask and raised his voice. "Open the damn gate!"
From atop the wall, Martinez and Noah spotted him. "Merle," Martinez said, though there was a hint of doubt in his voice. "Where are the others?"
"Dead," Lyn replied, his tone brusque and convincing. "We've got serious problems. I need to see the Governor, now."
Noah frowned, studying him closely. "What happened?"
"It's urgent," Lyn insisted, ignoring the question as he showed the container of weapons. "Are you gonna let me in, or do I have to break the gate down?"
Martinez exchanged a look with Noah before opening the gate. "Alright."
Martinez escorted him to the Governor's office, while Noah stayed behind to guard the entrance. When they arrived, Martinez knocked on the door. "Merle's here. Says it's urgent."
The Governor was seated behind his desk, toying with a glass of whiskey. He looked up as Lyn entered, his expression calm but alert. "Merle. Didn't expect to see you so soon. Where are the others?"
"Dead," Lyn replied, placing the container on the table, a slightly mocking tone slipping into his words. "We were ambushed on the way back."
The Governor frowned, but his tone remained controlled. "Who ambushed us?"
"A woman," Lyn said, leaning forward. "Black, with a katana. Moved like a damn ghost."
The Governor took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving Lyn's. "And the weapons?"
"Managed to save this," Lyn replied, pointing to the container. "But she took Tim and Crowley. I had no choice. Don't know if the attack was specifically for the weapons; maybe they're still out there."
"You had no choice?" The Governor's voice took on a dangerous edge, though he was still smiling. "Merle Dixon, the man who can fight a dozen walkers, had no choice against a woman?"
Lyn clenched his teeth, maintaining the facade. "She wasn't just any woman. That katana cut through flesh like it was sand. I barely escaped with my life. She came within inches of taking my eye," Lyn added, pointing to the cut on his cheek.
The Governor stood up, circling the desk calmly. "So you're telling me we lost men and possibly most of our arsenal... because of a woman with a sword?"
"What I'm saying," Lyn replied with a defiant tone, "is that we need to be ready. Because if she's out there, we don't know what else might be coming."
The Governor watched him for several long seconds, his smile slowly returning. "Maybe you're right. But this, Merle... this can't happen again."
"I assure you, it won't," Lyn promised.
"Do you know the woman's name?"
"No. She's black, and her eyes were dark brown, I think. Not sure. I managed to land a few good punches, so she probably looks as attractive as a walker now."
"Was she alone?"
"Seemed like it."
"Do you think it'd be a good idea to hunt her down?" the Governor asked, letting the idea hang in the room, even though he was alone with Merle. "If it's worth it."
"Don't know. She was agile, very agile. Could be anywhere in the forest, waiting to ambush us."
"Alright. I'll think about what to do with her. For now... get some rest. I might send you after her."
"Yes, sir," Lyn replied, and he left the office.
The young man then began walking through the streets of Woodbury. His posture perfectly mimicked the arrogance and relaxed menace that Merle Dixon naturally exuded. Some residents greeted him nervously, while others barely looked up, busy with their daily tasks.
The settlement was far more organized than Lyn had anticipated. The streets were clean, the houses well-maintained, and the people seemed to have clear assignments. However, beneath the appearance of normalcy, Lyn could sense an underlying tension, as if everyone were walking on eggshells.
As he walked, Lyn stopped by a small weapons stall. A burly man with a leather apron and oil stains was adjusting a rifle. "Merle," the man grunted. "Thought you were with the Governor."
"Already saw him," Lyn replied in a rough tone, leaning slightly over the counter. "Just taking a look around."
The man nodded but not without giving Lyn a critical once-over. Lyn walked away before raising further suspicions.
He continued his stroll, nodding slightly to the guards patrolling the walls. The surveillance in Woodbury was strict; Lyn noticed how every corner was covered and every exit well-guarded. He made a mental note of the positions.
Near the main square, he encountered a group of women distributing food. One of them, a young redhead with a kind face, offered him a bowl of stew. "Here you go, Merle," she said with a tense smile. "Get your strength back."
Lyn took the bowl and muttered something unintelligible before walking away. He leaned against a nearby wall, watching the people move around him. The social structure of Woodbury was peculiar. Everyone seemed to have a role, but the dynamics were clearly influenced by respect—or fear—for the Governor.
During his exploration, Lyn also crossed paths with Noah, one of the guards who had greeted him at the entrance. Noah seemed surprised to see him alone. "Where are the others?" he asked.
"Didn't make it," Lyn said indifferently. "Ambush." He didn't elaborate, and Noah, though intrigued, didn't press further.
Meanwhile, Lyn approached a small shop where several children were playing under the supervision of an older woman. The atmosphere here was different, more relaxed, almost warm. Lyn observed in silence, wondering how long this calm could last before chaos took over this place, as it had in so many others.
Later, Lyn noticed something peculiar. A section of the settlement was clearly set apart from the rest. An improvised fence and additional guards marked the perimeter. He decided not to approach immediately, opting to observe from a distance.
It was then that he saw a man emerge from the restricted area. He was thin, with neatly combed hair and glasses that gave him an intellectual air. Lyn watched as the man walked toward one of the houses, clutching a notebook tightly to his chest.
"Interesting," Lyn murmured to himself. "What do you have there, friend?"
Seizing the opportunity, Lyn discreetly approached the restricted area. The guards seemed distracted, but he knew trying to sneak in would be risky. Though confident in his abilities, he also understood that any mistake could compromise the entire operation.
Lyn retreated, finding a quiet spot to think. Sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree, he pulled out a small mirror he carried with him. He looked at his reflection, now transformed into Merle's face, and smirked. "Can't go in directly," he thought. "Too risky. I need something... something that can see for me."
Lyn then decided to use his warging abilities, but he needed to find a suitable target, something that could infiltrate the restricted area without raising suspicions.
Standing up, Lyn began to roam Woodbury again, this time looking for something specific. An animal, perhaps, or even an object he could move subtly.
Unable to find a suitable animal to possess within the settlement, Lyn sat under a tree and closed his eyes, focusing deeply. He extended his senses, searching for something, anything that could be useful. Gradually, a connection formed. It was faint at first, like a whisper in the distance, but it soon grew clearer.
When he opened his eyes, Lyn found himself staring at a white, sterile ceiling. The air around him was heavy with the smell of disinfectant and rusted metal. He tried to move his limbs but realized he was strapped to a gurney. He attempted to lift his head, and a blurry figure approached him. It was then that he understood: he had taken possession of a walker.