Recap of The Walking Dead, season 10, episode 19: “One more”
My skepticism meter was off the charts as the opening scenes for this episode unfolded. There’s Gabe and A-Aaron, here in these woods covering grasshoppers and all kinds of flora with plasma. (“Blood on a Dandelion” sounds like the title of one of Beta’s albums.) They’re looking for food and draining themselves in the worst possible way. Instead of a house that might contain supplies, they find nothing but rubble and the charred remains of the skeleton of what appear to be two adults and a child holding each other. Aaron wonders what happened here; Gabe happily says they’ll never know. Or will they do it? It may have started slowly, but this dark and depressing side quest turns out to be the most compelling Season Ten bonus chapter yet.
There are a lot of signs early on that something dark is coming. Gabe shows ingenuity – throwing a self-winding kitchen timer to get zombies out of their hiding in the tall grass – and there’s a good fear of jumping as he’s dragged into the mud by another. stealth walker. (I must love a chance lightning storm to wash away all that gunk. Father Gabe is cleaned up, amen!) But otherwise, it’s one depressing picture after another. In a convenience store full of zombies, Gabe discovers a dismal rooftop view: two more corpses locked in an eternal embrace and a moan tied up nearby. Earlier he found a bullet casing on the ground, and we see at least one body with a hole in its skull.
Gabe isn’t interested in detective work (at least not yet). They’ve been on the road for two weeks now with nothing to show. So when they stumble upon an abandoned warehouse that wasn’t marked on the map, it sounds too good to be true. In fact, the signs that things are not as they appear are everywhere: a boar is locked in a room, a counterfeit Pappy Van Winkle bottle is hidden in a desk, and there is a spooky stack of Bibles with it. pages torn off. Gabe opens one and sees a passage from Samuel with a handwritten note on “mourning.” (This particular scripture is a message from the Lord telling Samuel to stop crying over Saul and “get on the road” – whose spirit seems to be misinterpreted by someone we will meet soon.)
You know a night of card games and lapping is not going to end well. Gabe and Aaron follow suit as the priest recalls a valuable lesson his mentor gave: “True ministry is not in preaching from the pulpit. It’s talking to people individually, on their own terms. Continuing on the theme of sadness and death, Gabe doesn’t have much faith in what’s left of humanity. “Bad guys are no exception,” he says. “They are the rule.
Worse than a whiskey hangover is realizing that your friend with the very useful spiked mace hand is gone. Worse yet is seeing that the guy who probably took him away is the Terminator. As the mysterious stranger relishes the leftovers from last night’s meal, Termy – gun in hand, horribly scarred face – asks Gabe a good question: did you think that pig had locked himself in? There is a heated exchange as Termy says he uses the holy book as toilet paper: Gabe suggests he should start reading the Bible instead of wiping his ass with it. Termy replies that he did and that’s why he does it. Say whatever you want about his rather blatant profanity, but I’m starting to like this guy’s moxie.
That’s when any hint of rugged individualistic charm takes a tough turn towards a creepy serial killer. Termy – who had been listening to poker night all night – shares Gabe’s belief that there are no more good people in the world. Unfortunately, he set up a sick test to prove his point: a game of Russian roulette, with the ability to point the gun at your opponent instead of yourself before you pull the trigger. After three extremely tense clicks, Termy admits that his grim outlook was shaped by his brother, who stole his food and attempted to kill him. Termy “handled it,” he says, and won something that day, which seems like madness.
Gabe appears to be making good use of his ministry as he somehow talks to Termy about his murderous ledge. With tears in his eyes, moved by the promise of a better life and perhaps the last good people on Earth, Termy puts the gun away, unties Aaron and, in a humanizing gesture, reveals his name is Mays. It is precisely at this point that Gabe attacks Mike Trout with Aaron’s club hand and crushes his skull. Aaron goes from “Holy shit, Gabe’s sermon worked” to “Holy shit, I’m wearing this guy’s brains on my shirt.”
At first, it seems all Gabe’s talk about the ministry was bullshit, but he actually stuck to his words pretty much. He spoke with Mays on his terms, knowing the guy was capable of killing his own family, and viewed him as bad despite a brief moment of possible repentance. Perhaps the ballistic evidence Gabe witnessed along the way – gunshot wounds, bullet casing – suggested that this guy could be involved in a lot of dirty acts. Mays is no exception. He’s a mad dog that needs to be slaughtered. (This requires a procedural fallout of the crime, CSI: Alexandria.)
Aaron was probably relieved to find Gabe was right. A quick search for where Mays was hiding reveals the horrible truth: his twin brother was actually alive – shaggy, handcuffed and held captive with the corpses of his wife and daughter at his feet, each with a single hole bullet in the skull. “He made me play,” the man mutters repeatedly. There is terrible poetry in the brother who steals Gabe’s pistol, carries it to his head, and pulls the trigger.
In the process, Aaron seems scarred for life, while Gabe calmly busies himself with picking up cans to take home. Earlier, they wondered if they should go wrong and investigate a water tower. Now there is no argument. As much, right? What’s the worst that can happen?