A/N: A shorter chapter, but I haven't updated for a month now, so here we are.
Hosea Matthews keeps his hands raised at chest height as Agent Milton shouts loudly next to his ear, demanding Dutch to the leave the bank where the gang is in. Milton and Dutch exchange heated words, their voices clashing in the tense atmosphere.
But Hosea doesn't absorb their words. A gnawing feeling in his gut tells him something is very wrong. Suddenly, he feels the cold barrel of a gun leave his temple, followed by a hard shove against his back.
He stumbles into the middle of the road. As he regains his balance, he catches a glimpse through the bank's window and locks eyes with Arthur, a young man who feels like a son to him, and his best friend, Dutch. Hosea straightens his back a bit, mustering his courage, and looks back at Agent Milton, who is still pointing his gun directly at him.
Then, without warning, a gunshot rings out. A sharp, searing pain pierces through his chest. "Augh...!" Hosea gasps as he stumbles backward and collapses onto the ground, landing on his side. He struggles for a moment, desperately trying to catch his breath, but the air refuses to fill his lungs. As darkness begins to close in around him, he falls limp. Just before his hearing fades away completely, he can still hear the shouting and gunfire echoing around him.
Hosea Matthews blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He felt a chill run through his body, an unsettling mix of confusion and disbelief. "What in the world...?" he murmured, glancing down at his bloodstained suit. The memory of the gunshot came rushing back, but here he was, alive and standing in a strange place.
As the sunlight beat down on him, he shielded his eyes and surveyed the open field. No trees, just a vast expanse of grass and the distant outline of a forest.
Suddenly, a loud rumble interrupted his thoughts. He turned to where the sound came from and saw large vehicles speeding down a road nearby. "Automobiles?" he wondered, his mind racing. "What kind of world have I stumbled into?"
Before he could ponder further, one of those vehicles pulled up right in front of him. The door swung open, and a man jumped out, looking both concerned and confused. "Sir? What're you doin' out here?" the man asked, rushing toward Hosea. "Didn't you hear it's not safe?" He grabbed Hosea by the arm, urgency evident in his tone.
Hosea shook his head slightly, still trying to wrap his mind around everything. "Safe? You think I'm worried about that? I just... I was shot. I shouldn't be here." His voice was hoarse, but he managed to add a hint of the stubbornness he was known for.
"Come on, old man. I'll get you somewhere safe." The man didn't seem to hear his words, and opened the passenger door for Hosea, who hesitated but then climbed in, feeling the strange sensation of leather beneath him. "There's a prison, real close. I'll drop you off, and the guards there will get you somewhere safe, okay?" The man started the engine, and as they began to drive, Hosea couldn't help but stare out the window, astonished at the speed they were moving.
"These contraptions move like a devil on fire," Hosea muttered, glancing at the man beside him.
"I'm not arrestin' you or anything. But I have to go into the city to deliver some things to the army... And I can't take you there. So the security guards'll look out for you until things are figured out."
Hosea leaned back in his seat, trying to process it all. "I reckon I don't have many options right now." He sighed, his mind racing. "Just make sure they don't lock me up for good, alright?"
———
Arthur, Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Daryl walked through the dark hallway, occasionally spraying bright paint on the walls to mark their path. The paint made it easier for them to find their way back later.
They kicked open the door to the cafeteria, and the space was large and empty. "Keep your eyes up!" Daryl shouted, aiming his crossbow in front of him. The group peered into the kitchen and saw eight men standing there, looking just as surprised as they were.
Arthur lowered his shotgun when he recognized one of the men. The man was in his 50s, had white hair, and was wearing a suit that seemed out of place in this setting. Rick and Shane noticed Arthur lowering his weapon, their eyes darting between him and the stranger.
"Hosea…?" Arthur said, his voice shaking as he felt a wave of emotions wash over him. Tears threatened to spill as he looked at the man who had been like a father to him.
Hosea's eyes widened in shock, and he too lowered his weapon, unable to find the words to express what he was feeling. The tension in the room hung thick, filled with surprise and disbelief as they stared at each other.