Hello everyone! Today is where the action picks up a bit. I know the first few chapters were a little slow. A bit of setting the stage, some exposition here and there, but this where things begin to start happening.

I've made two maps for today's chapter. One of them shows the trip from Newman to Atlanta and the other is a closeup, detailed map of Atlanta where you can see where Fort Mcpherson is and the route that Rick and Morgan take to get to it. Once again you can the find the maps at my Tumblr page. Type in 'JasonBlakeposts' in the Tumblr search bar but don't actually hit search. My page will show up in the search drop down. It's called 'The Ricktatorship Series' by JasonBlakeposts.

To my guest reviewer:

I'm glad you liked Carl. He's going to be one of this story's main POV characters. And yes some thought was definitely put into this story :)

I hope you all enjoy the chapter! It should be fun! :)


Morgan guided the Mules into Atlanta at a careful trot. The ridiculous thing about Atlanta was that despite it being the fastest growing city in Georgia and the States capitol only two main roads went in and out of it. It was clear that most of the city's commerce had come by train. Rick was watching carefully from the back of the wagon holding one of the Springfield rifles over the edge ready to fire. He had given Morgan his colt as it was easier to fire while holding the reigns. On either side of the street buildings several stories tall stood empty and haunting. Their destination, Fort Mcpherson, was tucked away on the other side of the rail-road tracks and no where close to either of the incoming roads. Rick was becoming less and less sure that it was a good place to welcome survivors.

"Alright." Said Morgan quietly, "Once we get to the end of Foster St. here we're gonna take a left on Ivy St. Then once we've crossed the railroad tracks we'll take a right and from there it should be a straight shot to the fort."

"You'd think they'd have a lookout posted." Rick responded softly. "They should have cleared out the path to the fort and put fences along the roads. At least that's what I would have done."

"We're you an officer in the army?"

"Yeah. Non-commissioned. Corporal."

"And you think that's what the bluecoats would have done?"

"I don't know I didn't serve in their army. I have fought them though, and they're not idiots."

Morgan nodded, "Maybe they don't have the man power to do it. Or maybe they found some other way to keep the route safe."

"Maybe." Rick said. They reached the end of Foster St.

"Haw!" Morgan cried. "Oh crap! GEE! GEE! GEE!" Around the corner standing packed shoulder to shoulder was a crowd of walkers. As soon as they heard Morgan's voice they turned and started to advance towards them.

"Shit." Rick muttered. He swung his Springfield over the side of the wagon, capped the weapon cocked it and fired into the advancing herd. Morgan was clicking his tongue furiously trying to get the mules to move faster but he hardly needed to, the animals were just as desperate to get away from running dead as they were. Rick grabbed the second Rifle and fired into the herd again. He grabbed a cartridge from his pouch and ripped the paper open. He poured it into the gun ripped out the Minie ball and pushed it into the tip of the barrel. Then he whipped out the ram rod and shoved the bullet down the barrel against the powder. He primed the rifle again, cocked it and fired. The walkers hardly seemed to notice. Rick could load a Springfield rifle once every fifteen seconds which was faster than most; but that rate of fire would hardly do. What he needed was another twenty men. Or a cannon full of grapeshot. Nevertheless he reloaded the rifle and fired again. Maybe the falling walkers would trip up the ones behind them.

Rick had fired twenty shots before the wagon turned. "Haw! Haw! Haw!" Morgan yelled and the wagon swung violently to the left. About five seconds later the walkers appeared. The first ones overshot the turn and as they tried to correct their course the ones behind them pushed them forward.

"Make another turn Morgan!" Rick called. "One more I think we'll lose them!"

"Yeah! Hold on!" Morgan called back. Rick continued to watch the walkers but didn't fire. He might be able to hit one at that this distance but Morgan seemed to have the situation under control. About three minutes later Morgan made right turn. A couple minutes later they made another left. After that Morgan slowed the team down. The mules were still going faster than normal but they were no longer at a dead sprint. The walkers were no longer in sight.

Rick took a deep breath. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Were just north of downtown." Morgan told him. "We're gonna go north a ways where we can cross the tracks." Morgan continued, "Then we'll head south toward Mcpherson. We should get there in a few hours assuming we don't run into any more problems."

"How do you know Atlanta so well?" Rick asked him.

"I live here." Morgan replied, "I was only in Newman to do a job for a friend."

"Wow. I was luckier than I thought."

Morgan chuckled, "Yeah you were. Now keep an eye out. I don't want to be surprised like that again."

"Me neither." Rick agreed.

It was nearly dusk by the time they reached the brick walls of Fort Mpherson. The 'fort' was a peacetime fort and as a result the the walls were little more than large glorified fences, plenty good enough to keep walkers out but not much help against a canon. Nevertheless Rick was worried. "There should be sentries." he whispered to Morgan, "Even if they didn't have scouts on the roads there should absolutely be sentries on the walls. Morgan nodded, he may not have been a soldier but posting sentries was just common sense.

"Yeeaw!" Morgan's voice was soft but sharp. The mules were tired but they sped up as Morgan directed them up against the wall. "Let's take a look." he said and stood up on his bench. Rick stepped up next to him and stopped old.

"Holyy shit!" Rick whispered. The fort was overrun. There was simply no other way to put it. Walkers swarmed the yard between the wall and the soldiers barracks. The door to the barracks was broken down and walkers were going in and out of it. Rick was horrified. There was know way to tell if his family was there or not. There were simply too many walkers. Morgan suddenly sat down and grabbed the reigns.

"We gotta go." He said urgently.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Rick, "Our families could be in there!"

"If our families are in there they are dead Rick. If my wife managed to get away she would go to our apartment. She knows that's where I'd look so that's where she'd go. Maybe your family is there too. Even if they aren't you don't know where else they might be do you?"

Rick looked at his friend blankly before shaking his head. "No I don't." He sat down on the bench next to Morgan and the freedman started the team up again. Amazingly Morgan managed to keep a clear head. The mules were exhausted and could only go so fast, Morgan didn't try to push them.

It was completely dark within half an hour and Rick had fetched a lantern from the back of the wagon. Morgan didn't seem to need it however as he made his way deftly through the streets. When they reached the building he lived in Morgan was the one who leaped out of the wagon leaving Rick to bring the mules to a halt. It didn't take much. The animals were ready to stop and collapsed as soon as Rick brought them to a halt. Rick was out of the wagon and running after Morgan Springfield in his hand. He caught up to his friend before he reached the door an together they entered the building and ran up the stairs. Morgan had Rick's colt out and he was shouting out to his family the same way Rick had. "Jenny! Duane! Are you there?! Jenny! Duane!" They reached the second floor and Morgan stopped. A door stood between them and the hallway. Morgan swung it open yelling, "Duane! Je-!" he cried and stopped short. There in the filtered moonlight stood a dark skinned walker with long hair. At the sound them entering she turned around and Morgan broke, "No. No. Oh no no no!" Tears began to fall from his face "No Jenny! No NO!" the walker moved closer toward them. Suddenly the door right in front of the walker swung open and out came a young black child.

"Dad?" the boy asked uncertainly.

"Duane!" Morgan cried staring at his son through his tears in disbelief.

"Look out!" Rick yelled. The boy turned around but he was too slow; his mother fell upon him teeth sinking into his shoulder. Morgan screamed. He fired Rick's pistol and the walker fell back blood spattering from its head. It was too late, the damage was done, Duane fell to floor holding his shoulder screaming in pain. The colt fell out of Morgan's hand as he ran to his son. Rick followed him. Morgan fell to his knees weeping and held his son to his chest. There was nothing they could do. Morgan just knelt there tears streaming down his face as his son howled.

It only took a couple of minutes yet it felt like hours to Rick as he watched the two them. He could feel tears streaking his own face. Finally the boy stopped screaming. His eyes closed and he went limp in his fathers arms. Morgan's crying intensified and Rick could only stand there silently as his throat tightened. Wordlessly he drew his bayonet from it's sheath and held it out to his friend. Morgan stared at the proffered blade for a solid five seconds before slowly reaching up and taking it. Cradling his son's head against his chest he put the tip of the bayonet against the boy's temple. Looking down at his son Morgan shook his head through the tears and pushed it in. Rick could feel himself crying for real now. Morgan pulled the blade out of Duane's head and as if in shock at what he had done dropped both it and the body onto the floor. Morgan stood up and without saying a word turned around and headed toward the stairs.

"Morgan where are you going?" Rick asked. Morgan didn't answer. "Morgan! Morgan kept going. Rick grabbed the bayonet and his lantern off the floor and ran after the freedman. By the time he reached the door Morgan was already at the bottom of the stairs. "Morgan!" Rick yelled. He ran down the stairs and out the front door. "Shit." He cursed. The street was filled with walkers. Apparently they had been drawn by Morgan's crying and Rick's yelling. Morgan was nowhere in sight. "Morgan!" Rick cried helplessly, "Morgan where are you?!" the walkers, hearing his voice started to move toward him. "God dammit!" Rick cursed again. There was no way he could find Morgan in this light. He stepped back into the building and locked the door. Everything was fucked.


So yeah. That was an emotional chapter. What did you guys think of it? Did I give Morgan's grief justice? I'm honestly not sure if there's a worse thing to witness than what he just did and I have never had an experience that is even remotely close. Hopefully I did it okay. Let me know what you think in the reviews and yeah... do that.