Rick felt a bit faint faint, it might have been because he had just battered a man's head in with a spade, but it might also have been because his wounds hadn't been treated in who knows how long. The bandages were certainly dirty, hopefully he had been mostly healed already when the world had apparently gone to crap, he was a bit nervous about taking the bandages off and checking.
He kept the spade in his hand as he went back into the house, and had a slower, more thorough look around. Specifically checking for the family's emergency supplies and first aid kit, he noticed that they were missing. In the bathroom, even the toothpaste and brushes were gone. It took him a while to realise what was wrong with the house though - all of the pictures were gone.
He collapsed into the couch with a feeling of intense relief, the car and food being gone made sense and even the clothing could have been taken by any stranger in need, but the framed photographs that should be hanging on the walls? The picture books? Hell even the photos and drawings that should be hanging on the front of the refrigerator were gone.
Why would a stranger want those?
Lori and Carl had at the very least survived the beginning of... whatever had happened. They might have gone to her mother's house, or maybe the government had evacuated everyone. He looked around again just in case someone had left a note, but there was nothing - wherever they had gone, he would just have to believe that they were alright. Lori was a strong woman, he had to believe they were ok.
Eventually he decided that he had three main priorities. He had to find out more about what had happened, he had to find Lori and Carl, and firstly and most importantly he had to deal with his bandages and wound - he didn't feel too bad, he was weak more than sore.
From the state of the hospital, he didn't think going back there would help him on the medical front - the place was destroyed, he doubted there were any supplies left there. The police station though? That should have been more secure, there should be supplies left there. They even had the emergency generator and propane system, maybe he could find some information there too?
Plus, if he was going to be alone in some sort of post-apocalyptic world surrounded by rabid cannibals, he would feel better with a gun.
Rick once again went into the bedroom, and saw that his clothing had thankfully been left behind when Lori had gone through the closet. He threw off the old hospital robe and changed into his uniform, a pair of comfortable socks and shoes, and found his favourite hat and keys right where they always were.
Looking in the mirror, he could almost pretend he was just getting ready for work, until he saw his sunken cheeks and gaunt features. He was going to the station at least. After he went outside and remembered that the bicycle was his only current mode of transportation, he mentally added 'squad car' to his list of things to check for at the station.
The ride to the station didn't take too long, though he did see more of the diseased people aimlessly wandering in the distance. Luckily there were none in between him and the station - whatever had happened, it seemed like most of the people of his town had been killed or evacuated, and only a few of these diseased people were left.
He didn't want to catch the virus though, so he would stay the hell away from them if he could.
He made it to the station and saw that it looked like it was in perfect condition, from the outside at least. A few squadcars were sitting out back, and the door opened with only a slight squeak. He got inside without trouble, though in the inner parts of the building it was pitch black, as none of the lights were on.
He struggled for a few minutes to find the switch, but eventually got it all working. Seemed like the emergency power system still had at least some juice left.
Everything looked normal with the lights on, he passed a half-empty coffee pot and saw the desks where he and the others filled out their paperwork when they were at the station, his was noticeably clear of the usual piles of paper or other work.
There was a pinboard on one of the walls, and he saw that the bits of paper, flyers, posters and other junk pinned to it were mostly all about the same as he remembered, invites to various events, notices and reminders, etc., though there were a few in one corner that worried him.
"'French Rabies' spreads - first case reported in US."
The printed website headline was dated only a week or so after he got shot. A newspaper clipping from a few days later said there were already thousands of cases identified in more than a dozen states. An article from the local paper a week after that reported a case in the next town over, and an unsigned and undated handwritten note near the bottom simply said "Hospital full - army inbound."
On a desk, Rick found a printed-out bit of paper headed "Infected", which described the signs of infection, how the infected acted, and how to deal with the diseased. Apparently the dead eyes, rotting bodies and seeming lack of all human intelligence were all tell-tale signs - and they seemed to act like animals too, tearing uninfected humans apart and eating them. Those that survived being attacked and bitten were infected by the disease, seemingly died after a fierce fever, and became infected themselves.
According to the paper, 'While other wounds may slow them down, only by removing the head or destroying the brain can you actually kill the infected."
Well, at least he knew where to aim now.
He tried to logon to the computers, but the internet was down, so he finally went into the medical area to deal with his bandages and see whatever exactly was underneath them.
Thankfully, when Rick got the dirty bandages off and had a peek at his wounds, they looked like they had already pretty much finished healing - he figured that if he was going to get an infection, he already would have had it. He would probably be alright in a few days when he had gathered his strength and hydrated more.
So all he ended up doing in the medical room was pack up all the supplies he could find into a duffel bag, and then he kept moving. The gym was next, and he took the opportunity to have a nice warm shower there before changing back into his uniform and heading to the weapons locker.
They had a good collection of rifles, shotguns and handguns, though he did notice more than a few of the spaces were empty. Good, hopefully that meant Shane and the other deputies were out there somewhere taking care of the disease-ridden cannibals.
He had a look around for other equipment while he was at the station too, finding some torches, radios, batons, and even a few sets of riot armour. Once he had finished searching the station, he started taking it all outside and loading everything up into one of the cars.
While he was doing so, Rick heard a noise behind him, and turned around to see a clearly infected version of Leon Bassett, still in his police uniform, attempting to reach through a chain fence. The man was covered in blood.
"God Leon, what the hell." Rick walked up to the fence and looked at the fellow deputy, "You know, I never really liked you all that much... But this, you don't deserve this Leon."
Rick raised his gun and aimed it at the man's temple, and he winced slightly as he pulled the trigger, and the man he had seen alive what felt like only a few days ago fell to the ground without a sound.