Thanks for all the follows and favorites! And thank you to Tangy Orange for the reviews! You'll just have to wait to see who S is farther on ;).
Morning eventually came and we ate quickly. All we had was another can of beans, but I was too hungry to care. Rick was given some clothing to change into and we gathered up some weapons. I was given the baseball bat that Dwayne had been carrying before, Rick had a crowbar and Morgan, who had finally trusted us with his name this morning, had his knife. Dwayne was left unarmed but followed closely behind his dad as we left the house.
There was a walker that had been leaning against the picket fence, but the moment it was aware of us, it got up and came straight at us. Rick didn't hesitate before smashing his crowbar against the thing's head a few times until it stopped moving. I felt bile rise up in my throat and turned my head away, a movement that Morgan noticed but didn't comment on.
We entered back into Rick's house next door, a look of fierce determination on his face.
"They're alive, my wife and son, I know it." Rick said firmly.
"How could you know that?" Morgan asked him as he stepped inside. "Look at this place."
Rick turned around, his attention focused on the man now. "I found empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes. Enough to travel."
"You know someone could have come poking in here and stealing clothes, right?" Morgan asked him seriously.
"See the framed photos on the walls?" Rick asked him, pointing to empty spaces above the fireplace. "Neither do I. You think some random thief took those too?"
I looked around, not having noticed any of this the day before. How had Rick?
"Photo albums and family pictures, all gone," Rick told us.
Suddenly Morgan started laughing. We all turned to him, questioning looks on our faces.
"My wife did the same thing. Here I am packing survival gear, and she's packing photo albums." He let out one more humorless laugh before emitting a deep sigh and becoming silent.
"They're probably in Atlanta," Dwayne suddenly said from the doorway.
"That's right," Morgan said, seeming to suddenly remember something. "They said there was a huge refugee center there. Military protection, food, shelter. They told people to go there. Said it'd be safest."
"Plus they got that disease place," Dwayne added.
Morgan nodded. "The Center for Disease Control. Said they were working out how to solve this thing."
Rick smiled before opening a cabinet in the other room and grabbing a set of keys off the hook.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"We're going to need protection. There's guns at the sheriff's department. We can take one of the squad cars too. If there's a refugee camp in Atlanta, I'm betting that's where my family will be."
"I'm coming with you then," I shot out suddenly. I shrugged when Rick raised an eyebrow. "I've got nowhere else to go, and I don't know of anyone to go looking for. I want to help you find them."
Rick led the way into the police station, having us follow him into a side fire exit. He flipped on his flashlight as I stepped through the door after him, fidgeting with the baseball bat in my hands nervously. Dwayne followed closely behind me, a lantern in his hand, while his dad followed behind him, slowly letting the door close as quietly as he could behind him.
It was dark in the hall and papers were scattered all along the floor. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I remembered that being how the hospital had looked. I shuddered and pushed the thought from my mind, clutching the bat in my hands tighter.
Rick immediately turned to a room to our left and we followed him in. It was a bathroom with a couple of shower stalls. Natural light was sneaking in through two small, rectangular windows high up on the ceiling.
I watched as Rick headed to one of the showers and turned it on. Water sputtered out for a moment before a steady stream was emitted.
"Gas lines have been out for a while," Morgan said, confused.
"Station has its own propane system," Rick explained, holding his hand underneath the flow of water. "Waters still warm," he added with a grin.
I decided to let the three wash up first, so that they'd be cleaned and ready to keep an eye out for any trouble while I showered after. There was a divider in the middle of the bathroom, separating the toilets from the showers. It was a large, tiled wall with a bench on both sides. I sat myself on the side near the toilets and tossed my duffle bag down beside me.
I couldn't help but laugh at how excited they all were, finally bathing in a shower with warm water. It was only about five minutes before they'd finished and we swapped sides.
I felt uncomfortable undressing at first, part of me still afraid someone might not stay behind that wall, part of me afraid a walker might barge in when I was most vulnerable. I forced the thoughts from my mind and quickly washed. The warm water felt good on my sore muscles. I scrubbed my body clean, not sure the last time it had even been washed, and then soaped up my hair. Some of the soap trailed down my forehead and stung at the now nearly healed cut, causing me to wince. I rinsed it away and hurriedly finished washing my hair, careful to keep soap away from my injury. When I was done, I turned the shower off and could hear the three talking on the other side of the wall. I grabbed the towel from off the bench on my side of the wall and dried off before throwing my clothes back on, though I had grabbed a fresh pair of underclothes out of my duffle first. I was mentally thanking whoever S was for having thought to put in extra bras and underwear right now.
"Feel better?" Rick asked me as I made my way around the partition. I noticed he was suddenly dressed in his uniform, badge included.
I smiled and nodded. "Much. I heard you guys talking about Atlanta."
"Yeah," Rick said, "Thinking that's my next destination. If my family is anywhere, they've got to be at that refugee camp." He paused for a moment and glanced at the floor before he stood up. "We should get some guns and ammunition. We're going to need it. Hopefully no one's raided our station yet."
Rick led the way again down the hall, his flashlight guiding us. We went through a few more rooms, thankfully not running into any bodies, before he led us to a big room that had a locked wire cage gate. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the gate before sliding it open.
"A lot of it's gone missing," Rick muttered as he reached forward and grabbed a rifle off the wall.
"Can I learn to shoot, dad?" Dwayne asked, almost excitedly.
"Hell yes you're gonna learn," Morgan told him. "But I'm going to teach you how to respect the weapon."
"That's right," Rick said, handing a rifle to me, "it's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it." He said the last part directly to me.
The weight of the gun in my hands left me feeling uneasy. Rick must have noticed because he turned back to me with a questioning brow.
"Never shot before?" he asked.
Slowly, I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Here, let me give you a quick run down."
Rick grabbed the weapon from my hands and Dwayne wandered over, his interest piqued. For the next couple of minutes Rick gave us both a quick overview of the gun, what ammunition it took, how to load each bullet, and the best way to aim and shoot.
"It's different than a hand gun," Rick told me, handing the rifle back to me. "I suppose when I get a chance I'll have to teach you the basics of that too." He bit his lip for a moment in thought before he glanced at the bat I had leaned against the wall. "Maybe use that unless you absolutely need the gun."
"And always aim for the head," Morgan said. "It's the only way they'll go down."
I nodded, figuring that was something I should at least be able to remember.
We split up the ammunition that was in a safe between both of us. Morgan and his son piled their boxes into their duffle bag and the ammunition that Rick and I were keeping I stored some in the duffle bag I had on my shoulder, but there were duffle bags marked with the word 'Sheriff' that he had loaded with more ammunition and guns which he slung over his own shoulder.
"Try to conserve your ammo. It goes faster than you think," Rick told us.
We made our way back outside where two squad cars were lined up. Rick dropped his bag down in front of one and stopped, turning to Morgan.
"You sure you won't come with us?" Rick asked the man.
"We'll follow you in a few days. By then Dwayne will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty," Morgan told him.
I chewed my lip uncomfortably by the car. That almost sounded like a better idea than me running blindly into whatever was on our way from here to Atlanta, considering I'd never shot a gun before. Or, at least I didn't think I had. Not a rifle, anyway.
Rick turned and opened up the squad car and pulled out a radio, handing it over to Morgan.
"You got one battery. I'll turn mine on a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you find me," Rick told him before glancing over at me and amending, "That's how you find us."
Morgan nodded as he looked at the radio in his hand. He passed his duffle bag to Dwayne and told him to pack up their car before he turned back to us.
"One more thing," Morgan said, "One may not look like much, but when they're in a group? All riled up and hungry?" He shook his head. "Man, you watch your ass."
"You too," Rick told him, shaking Morgan's outstretched hand.
"You're a good man, Rick. I hope you find your wife and son," Morgan told him before turning to me and grasping my hand. "And you, Isabell, you watch yourself out there too. I hope your memories come back. Can't imagine how terrible it'd be to not remember anything before all of this."
I smiled at him in return. "You take care of yourself too."
Rick bent down and shook Dwayne's hand. "Be seeing you, Dwayne. You take care of your dad."
"Yes, sir," Dwayne said with a big smile on his face.
I knelt down and pulled the kid into a hug, which he returned quickly.
"Come find us when you get to Atlanta, alright?" I asked him as I pulled back from the hug.
"We will," Dwayne assured me as I stood back up.
A groaning noise behind us caught our attention and I turned to see a walker in the same uniform as Rick approaching a gate. Morgan pulled a revolver out of his pocket but Rick stopped him.
"Leon Bassat?" He watched the walker meander up to the gate that was in between us and him. "Didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but…I can't leave him like this."
"You know they'll hear the shot," Morgan told him.
"Then let's not be here when they show up. Isabell, pack our things and get in the squad, I'll be right behind you," Rick ordered before he made his way to the gate.
I nodded before giving one last wave to Morgan and Dwayne as they jumped into their van. Quickly I piled our duffle bags on the floor of the passenger side, wanting to have easy access to the weapons in case we needed them. Before I got in, I turned to see Rick holding the gun to the thing's head. There was a moment before he pulled the trigger, the shot ringing out and causing me to jump, before the body fell limp and quiet.
"Let's go," Rick ordered as he swiftly jogged back to the car.
I got in and shut the door behind me, Rick getting into the squad car moments later and starting it up. We followed Morgan and Dwayne's vehicle out of the lot, but they went right as we went left.
"I hope they make it to Atlanta," I said quietly, eyeing the van in the rearview mirror as it became smaller and smaller.
"They will," Rick said.