Chapter One:
Dead Men Walking
When Rick woke up the first thing that registered was the noise, or lack thereof. The normal background music of voices, footsteps, and beeping of any hospital were missing. Gone was the almost indecipherable buzz of electricity. It was as if the man made world had suddenly died and stopped it's under the breath humming. His throat was parched and he hoarsely called for a nurse but there was nothing. He forced himself to turn and reached for the vase of flowers he had at one point remembered his partner bringing him, then again he thought, that might not have happened. He thought that his wife had called Shane, 'love at one point too but he was lost in his coma dream right? Whatever it didn't matter right now, right now he had to figure out what was going on and get out of here.
The vase he reached for was mostly empty with just a small barely there trickle of water, he didn't care tipping the drops into his mouth before attempting to get off the bed. His legs didn't obey his brain and he collapsed to the floor pulling on the IV line on his arm. He slowly peeled away the tape that held the needle in and slid the metal from his arm before grasping the IV pole to pull himself back to his feet. It took no little effort but eventually he gained more control over his body forcing it to do as he wished.
The small washroom attached to the room was his first stop. The tap turned easily and the water that flowed from the faucet was a godsend for his parched throat. He drank his fill and splashed water on his face trying to wash the feeling of grime and sweat away. His chin was bristly and coarse from the facial hair that had begun growing. He looked up in the mirror eyes wide. How long had he been in the hospital for?
He was gaunt and pale, with stringy looking curls of hair. His face had beard of at least week if not more. That didn't tell him how long he had been in the hospital though, merely how long till whatever had happened, happened. When he had been in to get his appendix removed and had complications a nurse had come in every two days to help him shave for the three weeks he had been in. He shakily moved back to the main room looking for something, anything that would give him the date, nothing.
Rick moved towards the door and twisted the knob pulling it open carefully. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on but he didn't like it and didn't want to be caught unawares by whatever it was. A gurney had been pushed in front of his door and he surmised that, it was most likely one of the reasons he hadn't been discovered by whoever had turned the hospital into a third world war zone. Papers and blood littered the floor and bullet holes riddled the walls. Although given the silence and the fact that no one had known he was here for at least a week Rick stayed quiet in case whom ever had done this was still here somewhere. He made his way slowly towards the nurse's station leaning against walls to counteract the nausea he was feeling.
The halls were dark and but windows filtered in small amounts of light, leaving somewhat sinister shadows in the nooks and corners. He leaned on the counters of the station and felt around for the phone he knew would be kept here. He pulled it up and held the receiver up to his ear moving to punch the buttons when he heard it, silence. There was no dial tone. Whomever had done this had not only cut the power but the phone lines as well he thought as he searched for anything that he could use to help him get out. His fingers grasped at a small matchbook kept to light small scentless tea light candles that some priests and pastors used when visiting during their prayers. He also grasped a small paperclip before a buzzing and flickering caught his eye. He moved towards the closed hallway where he could see one of the hospital's emergency lights flickering.
The double doors of the hallway were closed and he peered into the hall taking in the destruction before looking down at the ground closer to this side of the door. The top half of a body lay on the ground. Rick swallowed thickly as he recognized the face of the woman he knew as Nurse Amy the woman who had helped the doctor with Carl's cast when he was seven and jumped from the shed roof trying to be superman.
He backed away quickly stumbling a little, as he moved down the opposite hallway towards the cafeteria area. Red spray paint covered the chained doors with words. It took him a moment to fully register the words, 'Dead Inside, Do Not Open'. His eyes narrowed and breath caught as the chain and door rattled. A females hand inched through the opening, pale and lifeless. He moved a little closer trying to peek into the small opening. Eyes pale and foggy stared back at him and the door violently rattled as groans filled the air.
He stared at the door as several more hands reached through before turning around and quickly moving away. He made his way towards where he knew the stairwell to be and opened the door listening for more of the groans he had heard from the cafeteria but there was nothing. He pulled out the match book from his hospital gown pocket and swiped the head of one match lighting the small flame. He could barely see but he moved slowly down the stairs searching for the exit to the outside world.
Finally he pushed the door and sunlight flooded his eyes as he tried to block some of it with his arm when his eyes adjusted. When they had he almost wished they hadn't. On the parking lot were hundreds of bodies covered with white sheets, flies buzzing around them. The artificial noises of mankind were missing out here too. Whatever had happened had affected the whole town which meant that Lori and Carl might be hurt somewhere. He had to make it to the house and see if they were alright.
Slowly he made his way out of the hospital parking lot and down the street. He walked on the sidewalk even though no cars moved along the road. Nothing moved along the road, it was if he was the last living person in the world. He watched carefully for any movement as his ingrained police instincts began to kick in. He had been almost too foggy before to understand anything but the longer he was awake and moving the more his head seemed to clear. He felt in his gut that somehow he was in danger and began scanning the streets as though he was looking for a hiding perp when he saw it, movement. Twenty or thirty meter's in front of him to the left something was moving slowly across the ground. He carefully made his way forward and it quickly became apparent that the movement was a woman, or part of one. Like Nurse Amy the lower half of her body seemed to be missing. Unlike Nurse Amy however she was still alive and moving. Rick made his way forward as if to help her somehow but stopped as she turned her head towards him.
Her eyes held the same pale fog of the things that were in the cafeteria of the hospital and her teeth gnashed together. She reached for him but his instincts screamed at him to run, flee, and get as far away as possible from this thing on the ground because it certainly wasn't human, not any more. He swallowed bile and moved towards the slightly rusted red bicycle that leaned against the guardrail on the side of sidewalk. Although rusted it moved easily and he could use it to get to his home faster, if he could keep his balance that is.
Finally he arrived at the driveway of his house. Although shaky he had kept his balance well enough to make good time. He quickly moved up the driveway to the front door and twisted the doorknob. It was unlocked which was strange given that crime had risen in their neighborhood, vandalism and such. He had even installed a small camera on the front porch for two weeks before he got shot but nothing had occurred on his street yet so he hadn't had to check or change the film. It was probably dead and the memory full so it couldn't record any further. He called out as he entered the house but no one answered. The house looked as though it had been ransacked, but he noticed the photo albums were missing. Lori was the only person who would have a truly vested interest in the albums which meant she had gotten out with Carl. The burden of fear fell from his shoulders for a moment and then fell back on even harder. If they weren't here where were they?
He moved back to the entry and closed the door before moving around the house filling a bag full of things he might need. Canned food and the first aid kit from the bathroom made their way to the bag before he moved to the bathroom to change his own clothes and pack some in his bag. Once he was in a clean uniform he moved to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer looking for his personal side arm. It wasn't there, but he didn't panic as he moved to check Lori's nightstand. There was the possibility she had moved it when he was in the hospital to feel safer or even that she had taken it with her.
He opened the drawer and pulled out the sheaf of papers that were on the top and peeked under them, nothing. He went to put the papers back when he glanced at the letter head; 'Carson & Carson Divorce Attorney'. His body stiffened as he began looking over the forms. She had already signed along with her lawyer almost four weeks before the day he had been shot. He sat on the bed staring at the papers for a moment before moving into action once more. He knew that their marriage was rocky before he was shot but he hadn't believed they were anywhere close to a divorce. He tried to push down the doubts he had about her fidelity. About a year ago he had seen her get into her vehicle at a nearby motel on his way home and asked her about it when she had gotten home, she brushed it off saying a friend of the her family had contacted her and was leaving town tonight so she had gone over to say hello while he was coaching Carl's baseball. At the time he had brushed it off but now he wasn't so sure. He walked towards the front door, opening it to step onto the small porch. He moved to the corner where the camera was and stood on his tip toes to unclip it from its stage. Bringing the camera close as he regained his balance Rick moved back towards the door of the house, closing it once more behind him.
He moved towards the bedroom as he tried to switch it on but as he had thought before it was dead. He went to throw it but before he could cock his arm back he saw the laptop sitting on the desk by the window. He turned the camera in his hands looking for the memory chip slot. Finding it he slid the chip out and turned to the laptop. He hit the power button hoping it still had a charge. It powered on and he slid the chip into the side of the computer and allowed it to load clicking on the first hours of film as he sat down on the chair. The first three days there was nothing but normal day to day events. Then came the first Tuesday after he had installed the camera, the day of Carl's baseball practice, it was shifted slightly by a hand so it viewed more away from the door by someone who had stood in its blind spot. He remembered this; although he hadn't realized it had been done on purpose he remembered moving it to view the porch better only a few days later before he left for Carl's baseball practice. He almost fast forwarded through the shots he needed to see. Pausing and rewinding slightly he hit play.
He let the entire scene play trying to find some way to deny it in his own head. As it finished he fast forwarded to the next time he was out of the house with Carl. His anger became more and more evident the further he watched. His wife was sleeping with his best friend and partner. He slammed the laptop closed and laid his head on the table as he fought with his emotions.
Finally he got a hold of his emotions and breathed in deeply. If his they had made it out as the missing albums suggested they had there was a very good possibility that they would see each other once again. He opened a desk drawer searching for a pen and took the papers from the bed. He looked at them for a moment before bringing the pen to the paper and signing. He stuffed the papers in his bag before grabbing it and moving out the front door. He made it off the porch and half way down the front step when he realized not only did he not know what had happened to the town or what was going on with the dead moving but he had no idea where his son and now ex-wife would have gone. He all but collapsed with his head in his hands on the step as he once more tried not to cry.
A few moments later he raised his head tears blurring his vision along with pain. The adrenaline, desperation and then anger that had kept him moving was beginning to fade and even sitting down he was beginning to feel dizzy. Down the road a man seemed to be stumbling along but Rick didn't have the energy to move or even call out he just stared before a gunshot broke the reverie and the man's head was thrown back as his skull was blown through. He went to try and stand when pain erupted in the back of his head and he fell sideways vision spotty and going grey. A boy's face looked down at him with wide brown eyes.
"Carl?" he asked deliriously before passing out.
When Rick came to the second time in a day it was to a pain filled head ache. His shoulder however felt better, cleaner almost. He was inside a house and could see the window's covered so that light couldn't get in or out. Candles were lit and flickering making the shadows dance across the room in which he lay.
"Awake then?" asked a black man as he entered the room. Rick tried to move up in the bed but ropes held him in place . "Got that bandage changed out. It was pretty rank," said the man as he came into the room with his gun at his side. Not yet pointing in Rick's direction but still ready for a shot in a second if he makes the wrong move. "What was it from?" The black man asked.
"Gunshot," Rick answered.
"Gunshot? Anything else?" the other man asked. Rick snorted,
"What getting shot isn't enough?"
"Look I asked you a question the common curtesy, right? Now answer the question. Did you get bit?" The black man asked.
"Bit?" Rick repeated confused.
"Bit, chewed, a scratch anything like that?" he asked.
"No I got shot. Just shot as far as I know," Rick answered and the man reaches towards him and Rick flinched.
"Hey man, just let me," says the black man as he touches the back of his hand to Ricks forehead. "Feels cool enough," he says as he pulls out a switchblade. "Fever would have killed you by now," He continues as he cuts the rope holding Rick to the bed. He steps back away from the bed. "Come on out when you're able," the man says before leaving the room. Rick rolls over on his side trying to compose himself. The day he's had is like nothing he's ever experienced before. Waking up from a coma, finding moving dead people, learning about his partner and wife now ex-wife, not knowing where his child is, and then waking up tied to a bed. He wants to lay here without moving, maybe close his eyes and just go to sleep; see if all this is just part of his strange coma dreams. Finally he rises wrapping a blanket around his mostly bare body as he leaves the room.
The man is sitting at the dining room table with what is obviously his son serving him some food as Rick looks around. He squints slightly confused.
"This place," Rick pauses and looks around a little more before heading towards the window. "Fred and Cindy Drakes'?" He finishes with a questioning air.
"Never met them," the black man answered.
"I've been here. This is their place," Rick said with a little more conviction than before.
"It was empty when we got here," the man answered. Rick reaches towards the dark sheet covering the window.
"Don't do that. They'll see the light. There are more of them out there than usual. I never should've fired that gun today. Sound draws them. Now they're all over the street. Stupid; using a gun. But it all happened so fast, I didn't think," said the man. Rick turned to look at him as he remembered.
"You shot that man today," Rick says. The man shrugs as he asks somewhat rhetorically,
"Man?"
"It weren't no man," says the man's son. The father berates him for moment before motioning for Rick to come eat. They say a blessing before the man gives his and his sons names, Morgan and Duane, and explain what they know about what is happening to their world. After their dinner they settle for the night, having only one small amount of fear, sadness and tension when the woman who used to be Morgan's wife approached the house and twisted the doorknob.
In the morning the three made their way to the police station Rick used to work at. They had showers since the station had a back-up gas generator that hadn't been turned on before raiding the armory for weapons. They filled up one of the cruisers with gas for Rick as well as Morgan's vehicle before they parted ways, Rick heading to the safe zone in Atlanta to find his ex-wife and hopefully son with Morgan and Duane following behind in a couple of days. They each took a walkie promising to turn it on for a few hours every dawn to save power so they could meet up with one another when Morgan and Duane made it to the city.
Rick ran out of gas thirty miles to the city. He knew there was a station about a half mile up the road and he could see the vehicles parked up on the road going in all the way around it. He doubted that there would be gas but it was worth a try so he hopped on out of his vehicle and grabbed the carton from the trunk and started walking hand ready to reach for his gun.
Buzzing of flies and the smell of rot greeted him as he moved between cars. As suspected there was no gas for him to use. He began making his way back through the cars when he heard a sound. He stopped slowing his breathing as to be more silent as he slowly unclipped his gun. The noise came again, soft shuffling of feet. He dropped to the ground looking under the cars at the direction in which the sound came. There, a car over were a pair of small feet in pink slippers. Rick got up and made his way around the car. The little girl had her back to him and was shuffling away.
"Little girl? I'm a police man. Little girl. Don't be afraid, okay? Little girl?" Rick says putting a hand out as if touch the girls shoulder even though she is several meters away. The child turns around. Her eyes have the same fog that was in the eyes of what he now knows as walkers; eyes of the dead. The side of her mouth is gashed and torn. Rick sighs in sadness as he draws his gun keeping it pointed to the ground. The girl starts shuffling towards him gaining speed the closer she comes. Rick backs up as he brings the gun he is holding up. She is less than two meters away when the bullet enters her skull and she falls to the ground. Ricks face is in pain as he lowers his weapon.
Slowly he makes his way back to the truck gathering up his bag of weapons and the picture of his ex-wife and son. Folded so only his son is visible before backtracking a little bit too where he had passed a farmhouse while driving. He walks up the drive, leaving his bag and gas canister on the step of the front porch before knocking on the door calling,
"Hello? Police officer out here, can I borrow some gas?" there is no answer. He moves towards a window. "Hello? Anybody home?" Still there is no answer. He can't see anyone in the window so he moves further down the side of the house to view into the living room window. Rick is horrified as he takes in the scene. Flies buzz around two dead bodies their heads shot out, shot gun on the floor. Written in blood on the wall are the words 'God Forgive Us.' As he makes his way back to his stuff he sees a pick-up truck. He searches for the keys but they aren't inside the truck. He moves to start up back to the house to search inside when he hears the knickering of a horse.
Seeing the horse and realizing that it means he won't run out of gas again on his way to Atlanta he moves towards the horse taking the lead hung over the fence as he goes through the field gate. The horse neighs as Rick approaches. Rick quickly gets the lead on the horse before taking it to the barn to saddle it. Soon enough Rick is riding through the field.
A few hours later finds Rick on a two lane highway approach into the city. He rides over an over pass moving deeper and deeper into the city never realizing the impending danger he was walking into. Walkers begin to follow but Rick just urges the horse to move a little faster while trying to reassure it as he passes and abandoned city bus.
"It's just a few nothing we can't out run boy," Rick says as he pats the horse on the neck. He turns onto another street. He passes an abandoned tank when he hears it, the sound of a helicopter. He urges the horse into a gallop as he tries to follow turning down another street. The horse whinnies as its eyes roll white with fear. The entire street is filled with walkers. He tries to turn the horse to gallop back the way he came but only gets a small distance when he realizes that the amount following him has grown and he cannot escape that way either.
"Oh god, oh shit," Rick says breathlessly as he scans for another escape route. He can see nothing, but it's too late anyway. The walkers reach the horse as it throws him dropping him and his bag to the ground. He cannot reach for the bag as he begins picking of walkers that are close looking for another escape. He has only one bullet left when and small hand pulls on his arm. He almost blows away the head of his rescuer but quickly follows as the young child pulls him under the tank crawling after him. The walkers follow and Rick believes he is dead moving to put the gun to his head when he realizes the young boy is gone. He looks over slightly and sees the opening to the tank and quickly pulls himself through closing the opening behind him. He looks over at his rescuer on the other side of the tank and settles himself beside the dead military officer. The boy is small and thin but not sickly so. He's most likely younger than Carl by at least one or two years putting him at ten or eleven. His hair is short and messy and a dark inky black that looks as if its oil slick in the light seeming to have an almost green tint. He has high cheekbones pale skin and delicate features making him look as though he is from an elven fairytale. His eyes though are the most stunning. A vibrant forest green clear and intelligent watch him.
"Thank-you," Rick says. The boy says nothing just watching him. Rick shrugs the silence off as he looks over at the dead soldier. He has a gun, Rick reaches for it. The soldier's eyes snap open as he is roused from the dead. Rick brings his own gun up in fear and uses the last bullet to shoot a hole through its head.
The gunshot echoes through the tank making Rick and the boy both dizzy and deaf. Slowly the ringing starts to fade and they both hear the crackling of the tank's radio.
"Hey dumb ass. Yeah you in the tank, with the kid. You cozy in there?" says a voice from the radio. Rick looks incredulously at the radio and then at the kid who's eyebrow is raised before moving to answer via the radio as well.