The Walking Dead
Book 1: Days Gone Bye
Based on the graphic novels by Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore, and Charlie Adlard
Written by D.C. Black
NOTE: THIS IS A NOVELIZATION OF IMAGE COMICS' THE WALKING DEAD VOLUME 1: DAYS GONE BYE. NOT AMC'S THE WALKING DEAD. THE BOOKS, NOT THE SHOW. IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT A LOT OF PEOPLE DON'T KNOW THE OTHER STORY. THE BETTER STORY. SO, I'VE DECIDED TO TRANSCRIBE EVERY FUCKING ISSUE IN ALL ITS GLORY. BUT I WOULD INSIST THAT PEOPLE CHECK OUT THE BOOKS. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO WHOMEVER OWNS THEM. I'M JUST A SCRIBE TELLING A STORY. PLEASE DON'T SUE ME, KIRKMAN.
Chapter 2 – Dead World
The world was cold. It hadn't always been that way. It probably won't stay that way forever. But...for now, it was cold and there was no warmth to be found.
It was a long trip. Much longer than I dare to remember. I wished there was something other than static on the radio. God, I wish I had some sort of CD.
I drove until the sun rose and didn't stop. Got to the state line, passed that warm welcoming sign that said, "WELCOME TO GEORGIA – SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY" with that big strawberry off to the right of the words. Like Georgia was some Disneyland theme park. Come one. Come all.
The car was not long for the world I passed the sign. Gas can only get you so far. And it would get me as far as it could before it had enough. There was no way around it. I needed to get gas. And I guess luck was on my side because there was a gas station not far from the state line.
But…this wasn't my first stop.
I stopped at about three different gas stations along the way.
All of them were bone dry.
And this station made four. I cursed under my breath and kicked the tank. Hoping the gas would magically appear due to my violence. I gave up and got back in the cruiser, checking the gas tank level. It was not far from E. Maybe another ten miles if I'm lucky.
There we go with that luck.
I've come to believe that luck is a cruel heartless bitch. Teasing you with the idea of a reward then shitting in your face with the cruel irony that your reward was never there.
I started the car and began to drive away, already pissed, when I saw something that made me a bit more grateful. Maybe luck wasn't so heartless. I could be the corpse rotting away with ribs and guts exposed in the car next to me. I could be sprawled half in the car and half out so every fly and maggot and creature can feast on me like some all you can eat buffet.
Best not to dwell on that.
I took a moment, looked away from the carnage. I could smell the corpse from here. I took a deep breath and continued my journey.
Then I thought of Morgan and Duane.
I thought about leaving them back there.
I thought about if it was okay to leave them behind. Should I have forced them to come with me? Maybe things would've been different if Morgan had been with me since the beginning. Maybe I wouldn't be talking to you now, Negan.
"Shit, Rick. You really going to throw that fucking shit on the grill and call it a steak? Hell, you knew what was going to happen the moment you met me. The moment good ol' Lucille cracked that Asian's dome. And if you think that everything would've changed if some black guy and his kid joined your little band of merry men, then you're the crazy one," Negan said. He was looking entertained. I sighed. Rubbed my beard with my good hand. My only hand. Negan looked at my bad hand. Or what was left of it. A nice smile spread across his fur hidden face. He motioned to my stub. "Now, when do I get to hear that story? I sure as fucking shit know you didn't get that in the war. And you weren't born with that shit, just fucking look at that shit! That's a one stroke, clean, precise wound! And I know damn well you aren't precise."
Negan motions to his neck, revealing a scar. He smiled again.
"You get your hand bit? Maybe one of your people had to cut it off for you? Did you run into some nasty assholes who have a fetish for hands? Did your wife cut your hand off spite your face? Or is that the nose? Who the fuck knows and fucking cares? I'm betting it was your wife. You two got in some sort of fight and she goes all berserk and lops off your jerking off hand."
I began to think back to the days with my wife. How she would argue with me. About our last argument. About how we should've left. About how we could've escaped. We could've survived. She could be here right now. And it all came back to my missing hand. We should've left then.
I got up. He stopped talking. He smiled.
"Did I say something?" he asked. I didn't smile. I rubbed my stub of a hand and began to walk out. "Aww, come on, Rick! I was just busting your balls. No need to interrupt story time!"
"I'll be back in a few hours to give you your dinner," I said.
"Don't forget to clean my shit bucket too!" Negan shouted after me. I closed the door and locked it. I began to walk away from him. Thinking about that night. Thinking about that gas stop. Goddamn it. I can't stop these memories. Nothing to do but let it play.
The car stopped somewhere along the highway. Abandoned cars on either side of the road. An overpass ahead looming. And here I was. Adding yet another car to the pile.
Damn it.
It was going to be a long ass walk to Atlanta. And it wasn't the coolest of days. Sure, fall was here...but Georgia is always damn hot. I got out of the car and looked ahead. The road stretched out for miles. I walked over to the passenger side and grabbed the duffel bag of guns, threw it over my shoulder (which looked way lighter than it actually was), and set off down the road.
I didn't have to go far before Lady Luck teased me again. This time it was a farm house. Nothing says Kentucky like driving to Atlanta on a tractor. Maybe they'd have a pick-up I can use or hell...anything really. I was getting hungry. I hopped over the wooden fence and began towards the little farm house. As far as houses went, this one wasn't so bad. Windows still intact. Door closed like normal. No damage of any kind. It was a really nice find. I walked up to the door and knocked. A place this nice and maintained, maybe people were living here.
"Anybody home?" I called out. I tried the doorknob.
It wasn't locked.
I pushed open the door.
"I'm coming in," I announced. The door swung open with a high-pitched squeak. I looked around, didn't hear anyone or anything coming. Hopefully there wasn't a gun trained on the door right now. I decided it best to announce my purpose just in case there was. "I'm not here to hurt or rob you…I just need some gasoline…"
I didn't get far when I began smelling a familiar odor. Every step I took in that house echoed and the smell became more and more familiar. That's when I turned and saw the family room. I gasped when I saw what was inside.
There was a family of four living in that house not too long ago. They had lives before everything went to hell. A mother, father, son, and daughter. A cross hanging on the wall. Bibles in their hands. They went to church. They prayed and lived through Christ. They were good people. But one day God stopped answering their prayers. One day they saw the world for what it was. One day they realized that God wasn't there. One day was all it took. The father took them into the living room, said a prayer, read something from the good book, and began to load the small handgun. He probably shot his wife first. Then double tapped the kids, saying he loved them all. Then put the gun in his mouth. He made sure all the shots were headshots. And now…their bodies are rotting in front of me. Decaying, flies and bloodflies in swarms. The buzzing was almost deafening. The bile was rising up my throat. The smell was to thank for that. I raced back down the hall, burst through the door, got to the porch and vomited. One thing was definite, they weren't going to mind if I stole some gas. I picked up my hat that fell off during my sprint to the porch and placed it on my head, wiping my mouth of any leftover bile. I then noticed an old barn. Maybe there was something in there. Anything.
I walked slowly and weakly over to the barn. Still recovering from my recent expulsion. I was cautious when I approached yet another barred door barricaded by a piece of wood. I put my ear to the door. Hoping to hear the sound of the dead. Then, I thought about it. Why would there be dead people in a barn? Guess you can't be too cautious.
I pulled open the doors and peered inside. Inquiring the air. Annoucing my presence. Only thing was, I wasn't the only one inside announcing their presence. A horse was peering at me and watched me enter. Neighing as I said Hello.
Well, it wasn't a tractor but it would beat walking. Just had to propose. I walked closer to the horse. It seemed excited to see me. Luckily, the Christian family gave the horse plenty of wheat to eat. She seemed more excited to see me than anything else. She probably wanted to walk around. That's good. She's about to get a lot of exercise. I put my hand on her muzzle., petting her gently. A smile spreading across my face.
"Hey, girl. They leave you in here all alone?" I asked, I didn't expect any response. But it was nice to talk to something other than the air. Haven't had the pleasure since I left Morgan back in King County. I looked to my right and saw a saddle resting on the stable. I picked it up with some effort, it was a little heavier than it looked. "I sure could use your help…if you're interested. I'm trying to get to Atlanta, to see my wife and son." I opened the horse's gate and slowly approached the animal, petting her head and stroking her body. She seemed calm. I slung the saddle over her gently. "You ever been to Atlanta? It's not that far away…" I paused and looked back, pushed open the gate again, it closed behind me, and then walked back over to where the saddle was moments before.
There was a hatchet sticking out of a work bench. It would work. But I felt I should ask someone. Guess the horse will do.
"You mind if I take this? It might come in handy," I said. I pulled the hatchet from the wood and stowed it into my belt. I then climbed up onto the horse. "You ready, girl?"
I didn't have to ask twice. She came to life with such energy and soon we were off. Slow at first as we walked out of the barn. "Let's go!" I exclaimed. She then started to trot then began to run, leaving a trail of dust smoke behind us.
I had slow her down. She'd burn herself out in no time at this pace. I patted her neck and called to her.
"Slow down, girl! I know you've been in there for a while but you're going to wear yourself out," I said.
No effect. She still kept at it. I looked ahead. There was a fence not too far off. I knew what she was going to attempt, but I wasn't ready until she got closer. She leapt right over the fence. I leaned forward to keep from falling off. Then pulled back hard on the reigns.
"Whoa!" I said. She finally came to a stop. Then began to walk slowly forward. I sighed. "That's better…I don't want you passing out before we get there." She a slow trot off the grass and then onto the asphalt. Before I knew it, we were on the road again. Past the cars and the police cruiser. Back to the dead world.
"So, you got a name?"
Silence. I began running ideas in my head. I had to talk. I needed to talk. But I don't want to talk about the world. I don't want to talk about sadness. I needed to talk about something happy. Like the happiest day in my life. I humored myself.
"Y'know, that's a good idea. Talking about the happiest day of my lfie will surely get my mind off all the messed up shit I've seen recently," I said. "I had just gone into work that morning. I was sitting at the station drinking my second cup of coffee for the day. Shane was telling me about the drunk he brought in the night before…then the call came in. It was my wife Lori, her water had broken not ten minutes after I left. I grabbed my coat and ran home to get her. I had Shane call Doc Stevens so he could meet us at the hospital. I got her to the hospital without a hitch. One of the only times I got to use the sirens on my car…it was a small town we lived in. I held her hand the whole time. There were some complications…and she had to get a cesarean. I was really worried…but everything went okay. The first time I laid eyes on little Carl..." I thought more about that day. How wonderful it was. Then…it vanished. Replaced with images of the hospital and the dead people and the horrors I experienced. That memory of joy was nothing more than a stain in my mind. A stain of hopelessness. I sighed.
"Y'know…on second thought…thinking about the good times makes all this seem so much worse."
We rode on in silence.
Soon, the road became more littered and wider. In no time at all, I saw the city skyline. And everything was dead silent. Eerily silent. Almost like the world was muted.
Everything after that went by so fast.
Soon, we were in the city, passing under the overpass. Then we passed a café. One of the corpses noticed us and began to get up to follow. It was only one. No worries. Then another. I looked back. There had to be about six or seven corpses following me now. I made a left.
And discovered roughly a hundred corpses heading towards me. Heads snapping. Arms reaching. All no more than ten feet in front of me. I cursed. I tried to go back the way I came, turning the horse. But they were circling us. There was no escape. But there had to be. Maybe I could run through them.
"C'mon, girl…let's get the hell out of here!" I yelled. But they were getting closer. There wasn't an opening anymore, no room to run them over. "Shit. Shit. Shit!"
The horse reared back knocking me from her back and onto the hard ground with a groan. She tried to kick them. I avoided the hooves as she tried to break through. Kicking and galloping through them. But they kept coming. Soon, she was pulled down as twenty hands grabbed her. I would've continued to watch, but a corpse noticed me lying on the ground. It turned its head to look at me. I cursed as I pulled the hatchet from my belt. It's jaws coming closer. I buried the head of the hatchet into its decaying face and the weight of the corpse caught the blade. I let it fall. The metal making a clang on the ground. It got the attention of another corpse, a female in a long dress. I pulled the blade from the skull of the corpse and slowly got up.
But it was already too late. The carnage had already started and I now saw what Morgan was talking about.
These were nothing but monsters now.
And these monsters noticed I was still alive. Six or seven of them. All beginning towards me. But there were more…that's when I turned my head.
They were digging into the horse. The horse screaming and breathing as these creatures swarmed over the horse and began pulling intestines and organs and flesh from this once beautiful animal. My only companion in this world. They swarmed her like an ant on a piece of chocolate. There was almost too many to even see the horse.
I peered into their dead eyes. The look of evil, devouring raw flesh, viciously tearing the guts apart. Fighting each other over the flesh.
"Bastards!" I screamed at them. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
I raised the pistol and aimed at the first dead one. A blonde female, young, mostly decomposed. Shot her in the shoulder. Should've gotten more gun training, I thought at the time. Steadied my arms, calmed my nerves. Breath.
Fired another shot. This one landed in the forehead.
Aimed at another dead one. Long-haired man in a suit jacket and button down white shirt. The tie barely holding on. I put a bullet through the right side of its jaw. That's two.
Aimed at another one. They were getting excited about the shots. Like this was all some stupid game to them. Some biker looking corpse came at me next. Shot him in the head. I was getting the hang of this.
But they were coming.
It was time to check out. I turned.
A corpse was right in my face. Too close for a gun. I raised the hatchet and swung it into his neck and pulled the blade from his neck. That's when I saw my exit. An alley.
I booked it. I didn't care where I was going. I had one goal. Get out.
Then something grabbed me that changed everything. A hand pulled at my collar. I followed the pull but God…it scared the fuck out of me. It was a man. Young man of Asian decent in a New York Yankees baseball cap and a tee-shirt. He had a hand against my chest and had me against the wall. He was looking around intensely for any of the dead ones that were coming our way. He continued looking out towards the street but he was talking to me.
"I can get you out of here. Follow me!" he said and continued down the alley much faster than I imagined he would. Stunned but not stupid, I followed. "And stop using that gun, man! You'll have the whole city down on us!"
He climbed on top of the dumpster and that's when I decided to look back. Because the sound of them and the smell was getting closer. He must've been reading my mind.
"Don't worry about them. We'll be long gone by the time they get down here. Stay there," he said. It was easy for him to say. I was staring at these monsters that just devoured the horse, thinking I was next. But I turned and watched.
He was crouched down on the dumpster, then sprang up and grabbed the ladder leading to the roof access and pulled it down and landed on his feet with a smile.
"Woo! Got it on the first try!" he exclaimed. I looked back to the dead slowly approaching. They were getting louder. Pistol in one hand. Hatchet in the other. I was ready. "Hey, man! I'm trying to save your life here! What are you waiting on?"
I turned back and he was already halfway up the ladder. I grabbed the ladder and climbed up. Ready to get the hell out of this city.
I looked up into Negan's face.
"And his name was Glenn," I said, look of anger on my face. "That's the name of the man you bashed in."
"Well, Rick…I had my reasons. We all make decisions…every day," said Negan. "And I do not regret any of them. Someday I'll tell you why."
"I don't care."
He smiled.
"Maybe someday you will."
