A/N So glad the wait is over and our friends are back swinging! Now here's another little taste of Rick to get us through til next Sunday. Please let me know what you think!
Chapter Twenty-six
The soft scurrying sound of a small animal sprouts up from the bushes to their left but the dog and the man ignore it, keeping their attention focused on the footsteps crunching up the gravel drive.
Rick detects at least two sets of boots walking at a good pace as the footfalls get louder and louder. When he feels Erin's fingertips against his lower back, he tightens his grip on the Python and dips his chin slightly to the side without taking his eyes off of the narrow roadway. "Just stay behind me, Red. If bullets start flying, you drop down and crawl under the truck."
"Okay. Who do you think it is?" she whispers at his back.
"No idea, but I do know that it isn't anyone we invited."
"What about your friend Morgan?" she asks.
"He'll be coming with a car, not walking into camp making all kinds of noise," Rick answers quietly. "He's smarter than that."
With Daryl on his right and Shane on his left, both locked and loaded to face whoever steps into their clearing, Rick knows that the three of them make a formidable defense. Especially if it is only two people advancing on them as he believes by the sound of the approaching boots. He tells Glenn to keep the others behind the truck as Nikki's growl gets deeper.
Tension drifts on a strong breeze as the echo of murmured voices floats up to the clearing. Rick's heart picks up but his hand stays steady. The voices gain volume but he still can't see the visitors for the curve of the path. "Get ready now."
The disembodied words begin to take form and Rick lifts his chin a fraction at the distinctive sound of a black man saying the word "Duane." A heartbeat later, he braces his stance for battle as two figures step into view.
"We come in peace," the taller figure says lightly with his arms held up in surrender, the sun gleaming off the walkie talkie in his outstretched hand.
"Jesus," Rick breathes, lowering his gun. He steps forward with a signal for his two partners to lower their weapons. "You scared the hell out of us, Morgan!" he says as he walks quickly toward his friend, a grin spreading through the relief etched on his face. "But I'm damn glad to see you," he adds, embracing the dark man.
"Sorry about that," Morgan replies, glancing at all the faces behind Rick to include the others in his apology. "We ran out of gas at the bottom of the hill. Had to walk the last stretch and Duane had a little trouble with a can of split pea soup on your fence back there."
As Rick watches Morgan playfully shove his son's shoulder, a deep sense of gratitude settles over his soul. They made it. Thank you baby Jesus. A warm hand slips around his elbow and he looks down into a beautiful face. The smug smile that clearly says 'I told you so' stretches into sincere joy as Erin beams up at him.
"Hey, we wouldn't have gotten here at all if I didn't see those signs, Dad!" Duane says, swatting at Morgan's hand.
"I know, son. Good thing I gave you strong sharp eyes." Morgan pulls Duane into a quick forgiving hug and then turns back to the sheriff. "You did a nice job with those signs, Rick."
"I found most of them," Duane says proudly at his father's side.
"Well you did a great job getting your old man here, Duane." Rick gives the boy a brief hug himself and then steps back when a large furry mass nudges his thigh.
After introducing the Jones's to the group, starting with Nikki who was eager to make the boy's acquaintance once the sense of danger had passed, Rick tells Morgan about their efforts to search for a safer place to settle.
"Well I was thinking about heading to the coast," Morgan tells him. "We ran into a couple of guys on the way down here, say they're going to some Red Cross shelter set up in Savannah," he says and Rick feels the ghost of a trickle climb the back of his neck. "Supposedly got a cure for this thing there."
At the mention of the city on the coast, Rick looks to his right to meet Erin's excited eyes. "Savannah," he says, blending his voice with hers as they both recall the dream they had shared on the beachfront balcony.
"So that's why I brought us there," she says softly, a wistful expression on her face that mirrors the feeling in his heart.
He nods his head, finally confident in choosing their destination. "We're going to Savannah."
"Hold on!" Shane says quickly. "This guy throws out one fuckin' name and you're ready to follow him just like that?" He runs a hand through his dark hair, frustration coming off him in waves.
Seeing this kind of reaction from his partner countless times, Rick moves quickly to diffuse his temper. "Listen, Shane, I know it sounds crazy but Erin and I both had a dream last night about Savannah. And now Morgan tells us there may be a safe haven for us there?" he says, the statement coming out as a rhetorical question with his chin tilted and brows raised. "That's got to be the place for us."
"A dream? You're risking our lives based on a stupid dream?" Shane replies indignant.
"You've got to trust him, Shane," Erin says. "Even if it sounds ridiculous. You know he would never risk Carl's life on a flimsy gut feeling."
"I don't know anything anymore," Shane responds with a shake of his head. "I don't know how we got into this situation or how the hell we're gonna get out of it. But the one thing I do know is that Savannah is two hundred fifty miles away and Fort Benning is only a hundred and twenty. That's half the distance and a better chance of survival."
"We can't go to Fort Benning." Several voices echo the same thought and Rick holds up his palms to quiet the group.
"Alright, alright!" he says loudly. The voices drop to a murmur of agitated opinions and then fade to silence in respect of his command. But before he can continue, Dale jumps into the opening he'd created.
"Erin told me about the dreams you two have been experiencing, Rick," Dale says. "Now, I've always preferred to keep my skeptical feet planted firmly on solid ground, leaving all the paranormal mumbo jumbo to the free spirited hippie types. But I have to say," he continues in his usual straightforward way of speech that exudes a certain wisdom only earned with age. "Whatever is connecting the two of you through these dreams, I believe that we would be fools not to consider the message it is trying to convey." He finishes with a sincere smile at Erin and Rick watches her face light up.
As nods of agreement surround the older man, Rick breathes a sigh of relief.
It's settled. He turns to address the group once again. "Okay, we'll take tomorrow to do a supply run and get everything in order," he says and then looks down at Erin. "And then we'll leave the next day."
"So that's it then?" Shane says, shaking his head. "It ain't right, man."
"We're not even going to consider any other options?" Andrea adds at Shane's side. "What happened to democracy?" she asks, clearly annoyed at Rick, and his decision.
"Democracy took a shit when the world went to hell," Daryl says hotly, matching Andrea's tone of annoyance. "Now y'all should just shut up and listen to Rick."
Rick holds back a grimace at Daryl's far from eloquent rebuttal and gives the man a brief nod, grateful that the hunter is fighting for him at least and not against him. "We'll see what the others say," he says to Andrea and then meets Shane's eyes directly. "But day after tomorrow, I'm taking my family to Savannah."
Rick watches his friend walk away, rolling his neck across broad tense shoulders. Recognizing the telltale sign that his best friend is seriously pissed, he knows that he will have to talk some sense into him later, after he cools down a bit. Rick learned a long time ago that if you want to change Shane's mind about something, you don't stand a chance in hell when his back is up.
When Andrea follows his partner in a huff of her own, Rick ignores the glare she throws back at him and turns to the woman at his side. The small compassionate smile the Erin gives him helps to counteract the bitterness left in the wake of the two forms storming off toward the tents. Returning her smile with a tender caress of her cheek, he gives her a grateful nod and then turns to their newest group member. "Come on, Morgan. Let's go get your car and then we'll look at the map again to figure the best route to the coast."
Twenty minutes later, after Duane was sent off with Jim to set up the tent that he'd brought with his father, Rick stands at the hood of Daryl's truck and focuses on a different section of the Georgia state map. He runs his finger along the thin line marking a two-lane road in Jonesboro. "We can head down toward Macon on forty-one and then head east 'til we hit Savannah."
"But we don't want to get too close to the city," Glenn says.
"No." Rick points to another spot and taps his finger against the map. "When we hit Forsyth we'll jump on eighteen here to stay north of Macon."
"And then we can pick up eighty in Jeffersonville," Glenn adds, grasping Rick's train of thought as he stretches a hand across the crisscrossing lines of the Georgia roadways.
"Exactly. As long as we don't hit trouble in Dublin or Statesboro, we can ride eighty all the way to Savannah." Rick feels a light touch on his arm and looks to Erin when she softly speaks his name.
"Shane's coming back," she says, jutting her chin toward the slope that stretches up from the tents.
Rick looks over to see his partner leading the rest of their group toward the gathering at Daryl's truck. Andrea is right on his heels with her sister Amy at her side, an expression of deep concern on the younger blonde's face. Merle walks a few paces behind the women, sporting a smug look of satisfaction while Jim and Jacqui follow him with their heads down, as if hoping to delay an inevitable regret.
A second group of refugees trail a short distance beyond Shane's troop. Kelly may be following the same path that Shane is taking, but from the space she is maintaining, it is clear that she is not in alliance with him. Thank you Kelly! He watches her take Carl's hand and lead Carol and Sophia up the slope. With jaws clenched, Rick walks to the edge of the gravel driveway to meet Shane head on. He hears the crunching footsteps of his small group as they move to stand behind him. "What are you doing Shane?
"I'm going to Fort Benning and these guys are coming with me."
Rick watches his sister move around Shane's group to file in between Erin and Glenn. He meets the anxious look in her eyes. "We aren't going to Fort Benning. We're staying with you, Rick, wherever that may be."
He dips his chin in a short nod and looks at Carol who filled a hole between Dale and T-Dog, her arm wrapped tightly across Sophia's shoulders. There is a determination in her eyes despite the sense that she is clutching her daughter for borrowed strength. "What about Ed?" Rick asks. "Where is he?"
"He went for a walk." Carol lifts her head high and squares her shoulders, a stance Rick has never seen her hold before. "He's staying here. Sophia and I are not."
He admires her courage but he knows it won't be as easy as that. "He's really gonna let you two drive away with me?" he asks, unable to keep the skepticism from his voice.
"He won't have a choice," she replies somewhat softly though her chin is still tipped in fortitude.
"He wants to stay at the quarry," Kelly interjects. "Carol doesn't. We will get them safely out of here." She nods a promise to Carol and her daughter. "Right, Rick?"
"We will," he says, giving the woman a nodding vow of his own. Looking around him, he scans the faces to account for everyone in their camp and notices one other person missing. "What about Michonne?" he asks Kelly. "She's not staying here too, is she?"
"No, she's on our side," Kelly responds. "She's just lying down again."
"This sucks," Amy says glumly from Shane's side, her glare at Rick more upset than angry. "How can you make us choose like this?"
Guilt tries to creep up his spine at the miserable look on Amy's face but Rick hardens it into armor and takes aim at Shane. "Don't do this, brother. We stand a better chance of surviving if we all stay together. You know that."
"These guys want to go to Fort Benning," Shane says. "I'm more than happy to take them there."
"Jacqui, no!" Dale cries, shaking his head so hard his hat nearly dislodges from his crown. "Come on, Jim," he pleads to the bearded man next to the dark woman as he pulls the hat from his head. "We've got to follow Rick. He's our best chance."
"I don't know, Dale," Jacqui says. "But my uncle was a career military man and was stationed at Fort Benning for many years. I'm going to follow my own instinct and go there. Who's to say I have a better chance with one over the other? I'll leave my fate to the Lord."
"Merle?" Daryl asks anxiously as his brother moves to stand beside Shane, making his choice decisively known.
"Come on, Daryl." Merle waves his left hand in a lazy loop, as if expecting Daryl to come without question. Not for the first time, Rick wishes he had let the man die with his infected right hand. "This is the way to the promised land, little brother." He winces tightly, clearly still in pain.
"No it isn't!" Daryl replies defensively. "We have to stay with Rick and Erin. They're our best chance," he says a little softer, more pleading than arguing.
"The hell they are, Darlina."
"You can't fight so we need Rick and the other guys."
"It's his fuckin' fault I can't fight! And who says I can't anyways?" Merle roars. "I'll kill 'em all with my left God damn hand! Starting with him!" He takes a step toward Rick as he draws his good arm back.
Rick braces for the fight but Daryl blocks his brother before Merle has a chance to throw his arm forward.
"You go with Shane if you want," Daryl says more forcefully. "I'm staying with Rick and the others."
Rick meets Merle's fiery glare over Daryl's broad shoulder. Lifting his chin a notch, he refuses to let the man try to intimidate him. He holds the redneck's gaze for several long, heated moments, neither one of them backing down. And then Merle blinks once and spits in the dirt.
"A bunch of pussies we're followin' to God knows where!"
Rick relaxes his shoulders, easing the slight throb of the wound above his heart as he watches Merle walk away grumbling something about stupid little brothers.
While tension fills the camp as clusters of survivors discuss, dispute, implore and ignore the brittle threads of hardship and friendship, Rick sits at the table with Glenn and Daryl, his focus on the pages of the telephone book listings for veterinary offices in Cobb County. In his peripheral view, he sees Andrea storm off toward the woods after another argument with her sister. He had hoped Amy would've swayed her decision but it seems Andrea is being as stubborn as Shane.
When he'd tried talking to his friend earlier, Shane was very cordial but adamant about going to Fort Benning. No matter what Rick had said, his partner wouldn't even consider his words. He was sticking to his proverbial guns, and probably hoping that Rick would cave instead. Not a chance. Not after the dream.
The moment Morgan mentioned the small coastal city of Savannah, Rick knew in his heart that it had to be their target destination. Whether they find a refugee center at the end of their journey - God only knows. But he has to believe there is something there for them.
"There are a bunch of vets in Marietta we could hit." Glenn's voice pulls Rick's focus back to the small print in front of him.
"Prob'ly some old folks homes we can find too," Daryl adds. "My friend's granny lived up that way."
"Okay," Rick says. "Write down the addresses for those vets and then flip to the senior living pages."
"Dad?" Rick turns to see Carl walking toward him with Sophia and Duane. The boys had hit it off immediately, probably grateful to have another young friend in a world where children are an endangered species. "Can Duane and Sophia ride with us when we go to Savannah?"
Before he can reply, the clamor of stones clinking inside a line of tin cans draws his attention to the woods that Andrea had just walked into.
"Who else did you invite up here?" Daryl asks half-jokingly.
"No one," Rick replies as he rises slowly from the table, his eyes peering through the trees at the edge of their camp. When a woman's painful shriek is followed by a single gunshot that pierces the wind, his mouth dries up as his heart drops into his belly.