Hello everyone thank you so much for support so far!
In the last chapter I posted I tried to put in a link to a map I made for Rick's journey so far. Turns out links aren't allowed on fanfiction *whoops* So what I've done instead is set up a Tumblr account and posted the map on there. If you want to see it you can go to Tumblr and type "JasonBlakeposts" in the search bar. Don't actually hit search. For some reason if you actually hit search my account doesn't come up but if you just type it in I pop in the search bar drop down. I have no idea why. It will show up as "The Ricktatorship Series" by Jasonblakeposts. Let me know if you like the map and are interested in seeing more of them as the story progresses. If anybody wants to see more I'll make more.
Now i'll respond to my guest reviewers!
Guest2: I might bring in some Native American characters later in the story. If I did it would certainly add another dynamic to the story as the trail of tears happened in Georgia not long before the Civil war.
Guest3: Thank you for the kind words :). I will definitely continue writing!
Guest5: I've definitely considered bringing in historicao characters and maybe one or two will make a cameo. For most part though the story will focus on the characters from the show.
I hope you all enjoy the chapter!
"It was hard as hell getting a hold of balls and powder." Morgan said as the mules pulled the wagon down the same road Rick and Shane had traveled before Rick had been shot. "Everybody wanted some. Even those going to Atlanta wanted some." Morgan shook his head, "I had my wife Jenny hide the pistol I gave her. I didn't want her to go unarmed but I knew if people saw her with it somebody'd try to take it."
"Where did you get the Springfields?" Rick asked from where he sat in the bed of the wagon. He gestured to the two rifles in question laying next to him. They were set purposefully where either Morgan or Rick could reach them along with their respective bayonets.
"Found 'em in a couple of farm houses after everybody left."
"You know how to shoot them?"
"Yeah. I figured it out."
"You just figured it out huh?"
"Yeah. Amazing how fast you can learn something when your life depends on it."
Rick chuckled. They continued down the road a ways in silence, the only sounds the clopping of the mules hooves and the rattle of the wagon beneath them. "Can I ask you a question?" Morgan asked.
"Yeah. Go ahead."
"Why did you save my wife and son? I saw the way you turned up your nose at 'blue-coats' so I know you aren't no southern Yankee. Yet you risked your life to save a freedman's family from the Klan. Why?"
"I never was for slavery." Rick told him, "I sure ain't for lynching a woman and a child."
Morgan nodded thoughtfully. "So you're against slavery yet you hate blue-coats. How do you reconcile that?"
"I don't need to reconcile it." Rick stated, "I don't hate Yankees for being abolitionist. I hate Yankees because they invaded my home state, infringed upon my rights and pillaged and burned wherever they went." Rick paused. Morgan didn't say anything so Rick continued, "Ever since the revolution every state has had the right secede from the Union. I didn't want us to secede but we did and we had the right to do so. The Union had no right to force us back into it. They certainly had no right to burn peoples houses down and destroy their ability to feed themselves while they were at it."
Morgan stayed silent for another long moment before responding, "You know I'm gonna be honest with you Rick. I get what you're saying. Every state had it's rights and the Union army shouldn't have done what it did when it came to Georgia. But they freed my people and I don't care what rights they infringed upon or whose house they burned to do it I'm glad they did."
Rick felt anger rise in his chest at that statement. People he knew had lost their homes and livelihoods because of what Sherman did during his march to the Sea. Shane's parents had a house that didn't exist anymore because the damned general. Nevertheless he couldn't blame Morgan for thinking that way. To someone living under the yoke of slavery throwing that yoke off would have been worth any cost. "I understand why you feel that way." he said carefully, "I don't like it but I understand it."
"Good." Morgan told him, "So long as we're clear on that."
It was past noon by the time they reached Glen-cove. When they got there Rick took the reigns from Morgan and sped up the mules. Glen-cove was a small village but even it had been too populated for Rick's taste. His farm was out by itself past the borders of the settlement. He made his way there as fast as possible.
As the wagon neared his house Rick jumped off and ran to the door leaving Morgan to grab the reigns and bring them team to a halt. "Lori!" He cried, "Lori! Carl!" He threw the door open and rushed inside. "Lori! Carl!" He dashed from room to room. Each one was empty. Suddenly the front door creaked open. Rick whirled around in anticipation and stopped when he saw Morgan.
"They're not here are they?" The freedman asked calmly.
"No."
"Well don't worry they're probably safe in Atlanta." Morgan looked around the room. "This is a nice place. It's far away from other people. We should be safe here for a couple hours."
"Why are we staying here?" Rick demanded. "We need to get back on the road."
Morgan looked at him reproachfully, "Those mules have only got about five hours of trail left in them. Whether we start now or in two hours won't change how far we get before we have to stop for the night. You just ran them ragged getting here so I think we should give them a rest before we start up again."
"Okay." said Rick. Morgan was right of course. Mules, or horses or oxen, could only work so many hours in a day. To push them any harder was to risk them falling over dead in the middle of your trip. Despite that fact Rick was anxious. Morgan offered him some dried food but Rick could only nibble at it. The two hours took forever.
When they finally got back on the road Morgan took the reigns again. Rick figured Morgan didn't want him wearing the mules out a second time. Rick took his seat in the bed.
"My turn to ask you a question." Rick said to his companion.
"Yeah. What's your question?"
"When were you freed? Was it when Sherman came? Or after the war was over?"
"Neither." Morgan leaned back resting against the back of his seat. "My master freed me six years before the war."
"Really? What about your wife?"
"Met her while I was serving him he was kind enough to let me by her from him when I had enough money. He was a good master... as far as masters go."
"Yeah.." Now that he thought about it the information didn't surprise Rick. Morgan didn't act like a man who was recently freed. He carried himself too well. It was a barely noticeable difference but many of the former slaves freed after the war were still getting used to their own freedom. Morgan continued.
"I had to work for two years so I could afford her, but as a result my son grew up free." hus voice sounded choked, "That is what I am most proud of in life. My son grew up free..."
Rick couldn't help being moved by the way Morgan spoke, "I can't imagine what that is like." He said, "I would do anything for my son. To make sure he's safe and taken care of. What you did... that was very difficult for someone like you and to have pulled it off is something you should be very proud of."
"Yeah..." Morgan stopped too choked up to continue. Rick didn't push him. After a moment Morgan spoke again, "How old is your son?" he asked.
"Eleven."
"Mine's twelve. You know one thing the war didn't do was make it safer for us to live. Lynching happened but usually only to runaway slaves or accused thieves. Now we get lynched for walking down the street." Rick nodded even though Morgan couldn't see him. "Don't get me wrong I will be forever grateful that the Union came and freed my race but there area lot of things they could have done better." Rick didn't answer, there wasn't really much to say. The mules continued pulling the wagon up the road and the two men rode in silence.
It was late in the evening when they reached the town of Fayetteville. It was the seat of Rick's home county and more than half a dozen roads ran in and out of it.
"We'll push past this here town and find a safe place to spend the night." Morgan said in his soft, hoarse drawl. "We don't want to spend too much time here too many walkers are likely to be around in a town this size."
"Right." Rick agreed. Even if he and Morgan could find a house to hole up in the mules wouldn't be safe. Suddenly, as if he had heard Rick's thoughts one of the mules whinnied and Rick felt the wagon move under him as the animals tried to change direction.
"We got a walker coming up on the right." Morgan said warningly.
Rick poked his head over the side of the wagon just in time to see two more walkers appear around a corner to join the first. "I got 'em." He reached for one of the Springfields, "Are these loaded?"
"Yeah. Caps are in the bag next to them."
Rick grabbed the rifle and the bag in question. Opening it he pulled out one of the brass caps and half cocked his rifle. Rick primed the weapon placing the cap on the nipple below the hammer, then raised the weapon and pointed it at the closest walker. He cocked the rifle and pulled the trigger. A crack echoed in the air and white smoke discharged out of the barrel. The walker's head snapped backwards and blood splattered as it fell the ground. Rick grabbed the second rifle, primed it, cocked it and fired at the second walker. That one too fell dead. The third kept coming. Rick snatched a bayonet from the bed of the wagon and fixed it to the end of the rifle in his hands.
"What are you doing?" Morgan asked incredulously.
"I'm killing it." Rick informed him and leaped out of the wagon to charge the walker. Holding his rifle in both hands like a spear Rick ran at the shuffling monster and skewered it's head with a single blow. The dead walker slid off his blade and slumped to the ground. Rick was panting. After a moment Morgan pulled up beside him with the mules and wagon.
"You good?" Morgan asked him.
Rick took a deep breath. "Yeah."
"You know you could have shot it with your pistol."
Rick looked down at the colt still stuck in it's holster. "Oh. Right. I guess my army training sort of took over. I didn't carry a pistol until late in the war."
"Right." Morgan chuckled "I would have given you a hand if I had known you were gonna go all crazy."
"That's alright." Rick had his hands on his knees now still panting, "Next time though I'll remember the pistol and you can shoot the rifles."
"Sounds like a plan. Now hop back in the wagon before you fall over."
Rick complied. As they continued toward the center of the town he began to clean and reload the Springfields. Black powder was a messy business and if the guns weren't cleaned regularly the barrels would get fouled up and eventually they wouldn't be shootable anymore. So Rick went through the painstaking process of cleaning each gun before going through the painstaking process of loading them. His work was interrupted when the wagon came to a halt. He looked up at Morgan.
"Look." Morgan told him gesturing off to his right. They were at the edge of the town just about to start on the road to Atlanta. On the right side of the road was a sign, it read, "Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive survive." Below the words was a map and on the map a large red dot marking Atlanta. Above the dot in big letters was the word TERMINUS.
Whoa! Plot twist right? Actually not so much, please don't hate me...? Let me explain. When I first watched season four I was a little confused about the explanation for Terminus. It was supposed to be where all the tracks met right? But in my experience railroads tend to meet at cities and if a bunch of railroads met eachother then it would be at a rather large city. Yet Terminus ended up being a small place with a train depot. I thought it was some flimsy writing convenience. Well imagine my surprise when I discover that Terminus was actually a real place! Shocking right? Not only that but it was actually a place where all the tracks met just like in the show. The story behind it's rather interesting. In 1836 Georgia wanted to build a railroad to the American west, so they sent out an engineer to survey a route and decide on a place for it to end and where all the other railroads would meet it. The engineer did so and when he picked his spot he drove a stake into the ground that was marked "Terminus." In anticipation of the business the railroad would bring to the area a small settlement rose up around that stake. And that small settlement turned into Atlanta. Yup, Terminus was actually Atlanta. My guess is that when the show writers were coming up with the Terminus story line they decided to stick in a little bit of Georgia history while they were at it. Considering the time frame of my own story I simply had to give that a nod. So sorry again if you were anticipating Carl and Lori being cannibal lunch; that won't be happening (not yet at least). Anyway I hope you enjoyed that little antidote and please drop a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter. Thank you!
