What Morgan did.
Salty tears rolled down his left cheek. Hand shaking, finger on the trigger. He had to do this. He took the small box of family photos he had been looking at for days and put them under the chair that he was resting the rifle on. Souvenirs of a different world. A different life. Out of sight. Gone now. He took a deep breath and exhaled, as he did his chest shook. He was still grieving for his dead wife but now he had to kill her.
Outside the road in front of the house was swarming with walkers, one of them was his wife. She Wasn't his wife anymore. That's what he kept telling himself. He could not leave her like this, infested with a parasitic virus using her body as a vessel. He looked down the scope and panned the mass of living dead to try and find her. Part of him hoped he wouldn't, he did. She was staring up at him, or so he thought. He tried to see his wife, the person he could still smell, still hear laughing. He couldn't. All he could see was a monster that looked like her. She turned around and began to stumble away. He steadied himself once more to take the shot. Deep breath. Slowly he squeezed the trigger. As the bullet struck the back of her head almost instantaneously he saw the left side of her forehead explode with blood and flesh. The body slumped forward and lay prone on the road as the other monsters aimlessly gurgled and moaned seemingly unaware of anything but their lust for flesh.
Morgan fell back onto the bed distraught. Head in his hands. He tried to wipe the tears away but they kept coming, he struggled to breathe.
"What was that bang daddy?" His son Duane said from downstairs.
"It's okay son. Just trying trying to scare the walkers that's all. Go back and read your comics." He said as he wiped his face and made his down stairs into the living room.
"Did you see mommy? Is she still out there?" Asked Duane as he entered the room.
Morgan turned and looked at his son, how could he tell him? "No son. She's not out there anymore. She's gone now."
ATLANTA.
Morgan awoke with a start in the back of the hardware store. He felt weak. He slowly crept up to the front door of the store and took a cautious look outside. Ghost town, maybe the walkers have moved on. Duane was still asleep in the back of the store. Morgan didn't want to wake him yet. If he was asleep he wasn't scared or worried.
He guessed it had been about a day since the police car Rick had given them ran out of gas and had to be abandoned on the edge of the city. He and Duane had walked into the city to look for supplies and hunkered up in the back of an abandoned hardware store for the night as it got dark. All they had to show for their efforts so far was a small bottle of water and a can of baked beans.
Morgan walked over to Duane. He watched him sleeping. What would he do if something happened to me he thought. He's nothing but a boy. How will he survive in this world when I'm gone?
"Duane, Duane wake up son. We need to go and find supplies." Morgan said gently shaking Duanes shoulder. "Come on, wake up son."
Duane stirred "what time is it daddy?"
"I don't know son, it's morning. Come on, we need to get moving."
Morgan and Duane gathered their few things and moved to the front of the store. Morgan cautiously opened the front door "Okay it looks clear, c'mon son."
They walked nervously for two or three blocks seeing nothing but looted stores and buildings. Bodies too. Some half eaten. Rib cages. The stench of death. They rummaged in a few stores but everything worth having was gone. They continued walking. Morgan cautiously looking out for walkers, rifle at the ready should any appear.
"Dad look!" Duane was stood pointing into the distance. From where they were they could see for about half a mile straight down the road.
"Oh my god, come on Duane!" Morgan felt a pang of fear run through his body. He could see a massive herd of walkers.
"No dad look, it's the policeman, he's on a horse, he's trapped by the zombies!" Morgan stood, shocked. It was Rick. The man they had found lying in the street.
"We should go and help him dad." Said Duane almost trying to push his father into action.
Morgan just stood, watching as the herd of zombies pulled the horse to the ground taking rick down with it.
"Dad! they've got him, Do something! " Cried Duane urging his father.
Morgan stood contemplating what to do. "It's too late son. There's too many of them, I can't do anything, he's gone." He grabbed his son by the arm and led him away. They turned and began walking again. Duane kept looking back as the zombies swarmed over their prey.
As they walked Morgan realised Duane was crying. "What Duane? I couldn't do anything there were too many of them."
"We should have tried." Said Duane. "You have a gun. Why did you just stand there. He was your friend."
Morgan stopped crouched down and grabbed Duane firmly by both arms. "Look son, it's a different world now you hear me?" He could hear his own voice. Tired, Angry, Desperate. Guilty. " It's about survival now Duane, our survival. We can't put ourselves at risk for other people anymore okay. There are no doctors to patch us up if we get injured. No medicine if we get infected. We're on our own now. Me and you, that's it. I need you to be a man now son. I'm not going to be around forever to look after you."
Duane looked at his father, tears streaming down his face. "What do you mean?" Asked Duane. "Are you going to leave me? "
Morgan felt all of the anger drain out of him. All of a sudden he felt drained. He looked his son in the eyes . "No son. I would never choose to leave you. But something could happen to me. At some point in the future I am going to die." Morgan was holding back the tears. " You have to accept that son. Death comes to us all Duane. It might be today, it might not happen for a long time. But it is going to happen. Before people used to put it to the back of their minds. Forget about it. We can't do that now Duane." Duane head was to the ground, Morgan could hear him crying. " Look at me son. I need to know you are going to be okay after I'm gone."
"STAY RIGHT THERE! DON'T MOVE!" A booming voice echoed out of the speakers and through the streets.
The armored viechle sped to halt at their side. Out lept 5 black clad men in gas masks. One of them thrust a needle into Morgans arm before he could do anything and the others grabbed Duane. Morgan felt himself fading to black "Duane, Duane..."