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Cicatrix
CADEL
[CHAPTER 2]
Shane Walsh took two steps at a time as he ascended the stairs of the Grimes house.
When he reached the master bedroom, he knocked lightly and entered. He found Lori sitting on the side of her bed while holding onto Rick's hand.
"Lori?" Shane moved closer.
The woman looked up from her seat and sighed out, "Shane."
Flooding relief bloomed in Lori's chest as she turned to her friend. She wrapped her robe around herself, trying to seek some comfort in the self-made cacoon. The tall man was still wearing his sleeping shirt. Lori knew that her frantic call over the phone had the man rushing over.
"You alright?"
"I'm so sorry for calling you this early."
"Hey it's fine." He reassured her. "I came as soon as I could." Shane peered down at the bed. "You said something happen with Rick."
"I…" Lori blinked away the itch in her eyes. "I don't know, I just…I didn't know who else to call."
Shane's eyes zeroed in on the red gauze and the gelled blood over his best friend's brow.
"Christ, what's going on?" The man frowned with undisguised concern. "You didn't mention he got hurt."
Shane watched Lori hug herself closer and answered, "I woke up this morning because I heard Rick get up. But when I turned around…"
The officer watched as Lori gazed down at her husband with a hybrid expression of worry and fright.
"You turned around and…?" Shane urged on.
Lori blinked. "Right…I turned around and Rick was standing by the bed and completely out of it." She took a deep breath in. "It was like he wasn't even seeing me. Like he couldn't hear me."
Shane's frown deepened. "Was he still asleep?"
"That's what I thought at first, maybe he was sleep-walking or…I don't know, but then he starts shouting."
"Shouting?"
No, Lori thought. He was growling, low and threatening.
"Ya sure?" he didn't mean for the disbelief to bleed into his question.
"Yes I'm sure!" she snapped with some heat.
Quickly realising his mistake, Shane lifted his hands up to placate her.
"You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just that it's hard to imagine is all." Placing his hands on his hips, the officer slipped into his cop-mode and starting asking questions. "You said he started to shout, then what? And what happened to his head?"
Lori took a deep breath and answered after a few moments. "I tried to calm him down, ask what's wrong but he just kept…"
He just kept pointing the gun at me. Wouldn't even blink.
Lori remembered staring down the barrel of the forty-five and not really comprehending it was her husband's finger on the trigger.
Suddenly, Lori didn't want Shane to know.
There was something about divulging that particular part of the story that didn't seem…comfortable. Like guests witnessing a marital fight while coming over for dinner. It suddenly seemed very personal.
So Lori let the gun under the bed remained hidden.
"He just kept saying strange things." Lori diverted.
"What'd he say?"
Glassy blue eyes stared at her with abject panic and swelling hurt. "Why are you here?!"
She should have been scared and maybe for a few moments she was, but once Rick began to harshly choke out his words, all Lori felt was concern. Because Lori had never heard her husband sound like that.
Like there was glass in his throat.
Like Lori was an oasis of water in a burnt-out and parched desert.
She rubbed her temples as exhaustion made itself known behind her eyes. "I don't remember." She lied. "They were just unrecognisable words."
"And the cut on his head?"
"He fell." She pointed to the edge of the desk by their bed. "After he calmed down, he collapsed and before I could do anything he hit the edge of the table."
There was a moment where Rick lowered his gun.
The man's storm blue eyes looked as if it should be wet but instead they were unforgivingly dry. Rick's mouth made harsh breathing sounds like he was sucking air through clenched pipes. Like it was the hardest thing to do. And then there was something disbelieving in his eyes, accompanied with another expression burning bright, simmering and bulging underneath like a cold supernova.
Something Lori didn't recognise.
"Lori?"
It was barely whispered but the cracks in Rick's voice were hairline fractures on paper-thin ice.
Suddenly it was like someone had cut the strings. All Lori could do was watch in horror as Rick's eyes rolled back into his head and collapsed to the ground.
Shane was watching her as she stared at the rising and falling of her husband's chest.
"Look Lori." Shane crouched low and gave her a reassuring stare. "Rick's one tough son of a bitch and your even stronger. I don't know what happened but let's wait till he wakes up yeah?"
She smiled, feeling grateful for Shane's solid presence. "Thanks Shane."
"Anytime." He nodded. "Does Carl know?"
Lori shook her head. "No, he's still sleeping." Her fingers spun knots in her sleeve as she bit her lip. "The hit to head doesn't look too bad and I've made Rick as comfortable as possible, but if he doesn't wake up soon, I'm calling the ambulance."
"Come on Lori." He pulled her up and urged her towards the door. "Sheriff Sunshine will wake up, so why don't you get changed while I'll make you some breakfast."
"You can't cook." She added distractedly.
Shane blinked and gave her a disapproving grin. "Now, now Lori, I think I know how to work a toaster." She gave a weak smile but turned back to Rick who was looking pale and eerily motionless. "Let's go downstairs. We'll come back up in a few minutes, if he's not awake in one hour, we'll take him to the hospital."
When their footsteps disappeared and the door was firmly shut, Rick opened his eyes.
He stared at the ceiling then suddenly squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, trying and failing at getting the sounds of the ghosts downstairs to go away.
II
Rick couldn't feign sleep anymore.
Not with the tangle of thoughts and near hysterical ideas bolting through his mind. The four walls of his bedroom weren't helping either. He needed to get out. He needed to move. He needed to see for himself. He needed to escape the strange apocalyptic world painted behind his eyelids. So even though Rick knew it was a poor decision, he crawled out of his bedroom window and descended onto the front yard with quick silent movements.
Rick Grimes walked down the familiar streets of his childhood home, feeling absurdly naked without his gun holster.
He didn't have the right mind to answer 'hello' to Cindy when she greeted him by her car.
He openly stared at the mail man who nodded towards the sheriff.
He jumped out of his skin and nearly whacked Old Stan on the nose when he tapped the Sheriff on the shoulder to say good morning.
Rick Grimes walked down the street with a tight, contracting feeling in his chest till he was physically shaking. Surely he was too young to have a heart-attack.
"Sir?" A small voice called out.
Grimes turned his attention to a boy standing by a portable basketball hoop in the driveway. The child had a generous amount of freckles sprinkled on the bridge of his nose.
The boy gave him an odd stare.
"You're in ya pyjamas."
Rick looked down.
"…Yes."
His breathless and dazed appearance seemed lost on the kid.
"That's weird."
Rick blinked slowly then replied, "…I suppose it is."
"You've got no shoes." The child observed.
"…I didn't notice…"
A slightly baffled look crossed the child's features. "Don't ya have any shoes?"
Rick blinked down at his feet.
"I forgot them...I think."
"Oh."
The blue eyed sheriff curled his toes in, feeling the painful stones roll between his feet and suddenly he began to laugh. He felt hysterical talking to a child bare-foot and barely hanging onto his already dubious sanity. Rick crouched down with his head hanging between his knees as he caught his breath, his knuckles brushing the asphalt and his ears picking out the morning birds – both familiar and alien.
He felt exhilaration and he felt exhaustion.
Mostly, he just felt completely lost at sea.
"Sir?"
Rick jumped at the sound, reaching for the pistol that wasn't there.
The boy with freckles pushed something towards the disorientated man. "Here." A pair of cheap brown slippers landed in his unsuspecting hands. "Slippers." When all Rick did was blink, the boy elaborated like he was a particularly slow child. "For ya feet."
Rick rubbed the fabric between his fingers, firmly ignoring how his hands shook and his eyes burned.
The shoes were real. He was real. This place…
He felt like a drowning man finally seeing shore.
Another strangled chuckle crawled out of his throat and he looked back at the child.
"Thank you." He really meant it.
The boy with freckles would never understand why his voice quivered. He would never know the magnitude of Rick's gratefulness. Or understand why a fully-grown man would spontaneously begin to cry.
They were just slippers after all.
II
Lori was hysterical back at the Grimes residence.
"Where is he?" Lori bit her fingernails, a bad habit she maintained since childhood. "Where the hell could he have gone?!"
"Lori calm down." Shane interjected.
The fierce woman glared at the taller man. "Don't tell me to calm down. He was injured Shane, I didn't even get him medically checked yet. He could be laying in the gutter somewhere for all we know."
"We'll find him." The man repeated for the third time.
"We should call the police. Ask for a search."
"Now Lori I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?!"
"Because I am police. He is police. And what are you going to tell them? That your husband has been missing all seven minutes, could they bring out the entire search squad?"
Lori gave a frustrated sigh and sat down miserably on the kitchen stool. Her Saturday morning was getting worse as the minutes ticked by.
"You don't get it." Lori mumbled into her hands. "You didn't see him this morning. I've never seen Rick like that before Shane."
Masking his own worry, Shane explained in a firm voice, "If he ain't here then he'd be round the neighbourhood and the car's still here so he'd be on foot. Can't have gone too far all things considered."
Lori just nodded at the logic but the uneasy coil in her gut wouldn't go away.
"I'm going to go look for him." She stated getting up.
"No." Shane abruptly interjected. "I'll go look for him, you stay here." Before she could protest, Shane grabbed his jacket and moved to the front door. Just as the officer was about to exit the house, the door opened before his hand could reach the knob.
On the other side of the threshold was Rick, standing in a thin t-shirt and sleeping pants.
"Jesus Rick! The hell have ya been man?"
Both men moved into the house, one watching the other wearily.
"Rick?" Lori came out of the kitchen and rushed over to hug her husband. "Rick!" She pulled back and cupped his cheeks, searching for further signs of harm. "What happened? Where did you go?"
Both Shane and Lori stared at Rick with differing levels of concern and confusion. They didn't notice him flinch at his wife's embrace or his lack of ability to look at his best friend in the eye.
"I went to pick up the newspaper." Rick answered finally.
They both stared at him.
Then they looked at the roll of newspaper in his hand.
"Dad? Mom?"
All three adults turned to look at Carl rubbing his eyes at the top of the stairs. His hair was sticking at odd angles and his mouth open wide with a gaping yawn. He nearly stumbled down the stairs to his parents, seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere around them.
"Hey Shane, I didn't know you were coming today." Carl gave the bulkier man a sleepy smile.
Shane ruffled the boy's hair. "Just dropping by."
"You're not going to stay?" the boy mumbled.
Shane was about to say he would but he looked over at his two friends. Lori was standing close to Rick, her expression a little stressed and tired. Rick on the other hand looked normal. Well, as normal as he could be with his unusually pale complexion and bloodied gash on his head.
Shane eyed his best friend, waiting for a sign. Rick gave him a nod and a reassuring smile.
"Sorry kid, I gotta go but I'll be visiting soon."
Then with a final assessing look he nodded to Rick, squeezed Lori's shoulder and left.
After Shane left, Rick quickly swooped in, picked his son up by the waist and spun him around. Carl giggled at being suddenly airborne and held onto his father. After a few moments of tangled limbs and terrorizing tickles, the sheriff put Carl down and kissed him on the crown of his head. If Carl noticed that his father's hold was a little tighter than usual, or if his kiss was tenderer, the boy didn't say.
After another round of giggles, Carl looked at his father's forehead and asked, "What happened to your head dad?"
Rick reached up, almost touching the wound he forgot was there. "Don't worry about it son, it's just a little scratch."
"Does it hurt?" the boy asked, his sky blue eyes gazing at the red ooze with fascination.
Rick shook his head and answered honestly, "Not anymore."
Lori stepped forward and kissed her son on the cheek. "Alright, you've slept in long enough, time to brush your teeth. I'll have breakfast done soon."
"Alright mom." Carl nodded and went back upstairs.
Lori watched her son disappear upstairs and took a deep breath before facing her husband.
Rick was still watching the spot Carl had been standing, the newspaper in his hands neatly held in both his palms. Lori thought he looked…thin. She didn't mean physically, but somehow that was the word that came to mind.
With the gash on his head and the pallor of his face, Lori thought her husband looked like a ghost.
II
Breakfast at the Grimes residence was anticlimactic considering the morning.
Carl was still a little sleepy but talkative and didn't complain about his food for once. Rick had the newspaper open and his eyes were glued to the front page. Lori had fussed over both her boys and quickly dished out warm plates of food before settling down herself.
It was all quite mundane. And Lori was relieved.
"Okay I'm done!" Carl bolted off his seat and readied himself to leave when Lori cleared her throat.
"Carl, at least put the dishes in the sink and then you can watch those cartoons of yours."
"Yes mom."
"But only for an hour and take a shower afterwards." She called out as the boy back out of the room. "We leave at noon."
She could hear the dishes clutter precariously in the sink and she hoped nothing had been chipped. With a sigh, she turned back to her own breakfast, but stopped when she looked at her husband and found Rick had a peculiar expression frozen on his face.
"Rick?"
The man was still looking at the newspaper.
"Rick!"
Her husband's eyes locked up to hers, startled and oddly skittish.
"Is it really July?"
Taken off guard, Lori scrunched her brow. "What?"
Rick held her gaze for a moment then turned back to the paper laid out in front of him. "July. I just thought…" the man shook his head. "Sorry…" his forehead wrinkled with thought. "Must have lost track of time. It's nothing. "
Her husband turned a page and scanned the inside of the newspaper, his eyes zooming through the content at a rapid pace. Lori eyed him and looked back down at her eggs.
"You haven't touched your food." She observed.
Rick blinked at her then his eyes darted to his plate. "Right."
Her husband held his fork in his hand with an oddly uncomfortable grip and look down at his breakfast, still hot and untouched. He slowly scooped a bit of his eggs and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly and without taking his eyes of his plate. His eyelids fluttered the tiniest fraction as he stabbed a half-cut cherry tomato and lathered it in avocado.
He continued to take his time chewing and he looked at his wife with a small smile.
"It's good."
The way he said it, she found it unusually sincere.
Lori quirked a small smile back and replied, "It better be." A tension Lori didn't even know she had been holding was suddenly gone. "How's your head?"
"Fine."
"No headaches? We can quickly get it looked at before we go to the grill this afternoon." Lori offered.
"It doesn't hurt and the bleedin's stopped so no need." He soothed. After a moment he looked up again as asked, "Grill this afternoon?"
Lori watched her husband carefully. "Yeah, the grill and picnic at the park today. Family outing that you insisted on last week? Ya didn't forget did you?"
Rick didn't say anything for a good few seconds, but nodded and looked back down at his half-finished plate.
"No, I remember." He answered quietly.
"Alright." Lori replied.
Then they finished their breakfast together, the sound of Carl's Saturday morning cartoons dancing in the silence between them.
II
They left at noon.
Lori and Rick drove their son to the park where a small local event was taking place. The heat was unbearable but there were plenty of drinks and the wind was cool between the tents and barbeque stalls. After having a brief conversation with the other moms and forcing Carl to actually keep his hat on, Lori craned her neck to see if she could locate her husband but after ten minutes of searching, she couldn't find him.
"Reese!" Lori called out to the local butcher playing ball with his son.
"Oh hey there Lori, what can I do ya for?" the ruddy cheeked man asked while readjusting his wide-brimmed hat.
"I was wondering if you've seen my husband, I can't find him anywhere."
"Oh yeah, I saw him a few minutes ago by the bridge over the pond." The man informed.
"Thanks a bunch Reese, I appreciate it." Lori turned to go, but was suddenly stopped by the butcher.
"Hey Lori?" The man started whilst fanning his face. "Is Rick alright?"
The dark haired mother blinked uncomprehendingly at the other man. "What do you mean?"
Reese paused for a moment then continued, "I dunno…he just seemed a bit off. I tried talking to him but…" The other man couldn't seem to find the right words but shook his head quickly. "Ya know what? Forget about it. It's probably nothing. You have a nice day ma'am."
With a frown, Lori left for the park pond.
She found her husband leaning against the wooden rails of the bridge, his neck craned down, looking at his reflection in the water and Lori kind of understood what Reese had meant. Rick looked like he was observing the world around him through a foggy glass. He didn't look like he was even in the present. She should've made sure if his head was really feeling alright before they left, and the god forsaken heat wasn't doing him any favours.
"Hey, what are ya doing all the way out here?" She leaned against the beams next to the other man.
"Just thinkin'."
"Anything you wanna talk about?"
She didn't expect Rick to tell her much. He never seemed to want to talk and open up. It was a problem that Lori was trying to deal with, but she wasn't sure if it was worth it half the time.
After almost three minutes of silence, she was sure he wouldn't say anything, but he suddenly spoke low and quiet.
"I'm sorry." Rick whispered into the water. "For this morning."
A little startled by the abrupt apology, Lori stared at her husband's profile as he frowned into the water beneath their feet. She'd been waiting for it to come up, but now that it had, she wasn't sure what to say.
"We never talked about it but…what happened?" Lori finally asked. "You had me really worried his morning."
There was a pause, and then her husband answered. "I shouldn't have left without telling you or Shane. I just needed to get some fresh air."
So you climbed out of our window?
"And what about before that?" She asked carefully.
Rick gave her a strange look. "Before what?"
Lori blinked as a small frown appeared on her brow.
"Before you hit your head."
Her husband was looking at her curiously, that odd glaze from his eyes now cleared up and uncomfortably sharp.
"I…don't know…"
Lori didn't know how to proceed. "Wait a second. What do actually remember from this morning?"
"I had a fall. I remember falling then I passed out."
"That's it?"
Rick thought for a moment then nodded. "Yeah."
"You…" she started.
You put a gun to my head.
But Lori found the words dying in her throat as Rick stared at her in mild confusion and genuine concern.
"You woke and…"
You shouted. You growled and then you cried.
Rick waited patiently for her to answer, but the answer that did eventually come out was not what she was expecting.
"You were disorientated." Lori began. "I dunno, maybe it was a nightmare, but afterwards, you stood up too quickly and hit your head on the side table. You passed out and I called Shane for help."
Her mouth tasted dry from the lie but she felt immediate relief which was abruptly followed by guilt. She'd tell him later…just not now. Lori didn't want to tell Rick now. Not about the gun, not about the shaking hand on the trigger or about the muted horror on her husband's face.
"Oh…" Rick replied a little quietly. "Alright."
"You still sure your head is feelin' fine?"
"I feel fine." Rick repeated.
Lori paused then asked carefully.
"I've just never seen you like that…for a moment Rick, I swear you didn't recognise me."
There was look of guilt that flittered across her husband's face that made the brunette want to take it back. "I...think I dreamed something. It was bad." A deep frown burrowed into Rick's forehead. "Really bad."
"Like a night terror?"
"Maybe."
"Rick…if you need some time off work you should take a break."
"Thanks Lori but it's nothing to worry about." Her husband was gazing at her with that damn unrecognisable expression. "Just…I'm sorry. For whatever stress I caused you." For a moment Lori though Rick knew but he still had an odd look on his face, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Rick gave her a smile then turned back to the water.
"Okay."
II
If Rick spent the day hidden beneath the shade of the trees, walking close to the tents and eyeing the crowds of people like they were about the bite, Lori didn't see it.
And if Rick eyed Carl with something close to melancholy disbelief or like he was something unbelievable, then Lori didn't say anything.
II
Lori slid the window open to let fresh air into the bedroom.
Georgian summer nights were unforgivingly sticky, but the air outside had at least cooled down as night fell. Getting ready for bed, Lori went around her side of the bed and tucked away her slippers. But as she did, her heel hit the gun still lying underneath the bed.
She'd almost forgotten it. Almost.
Touching the heavy weapon, she couldn't help but feel a strange shiver crawling down her spine. Needing to get rid of it, Lori placed the colt back into the drawer and closed it just as Rick walked out of the bathroom.
As routine, they exchanged comments about Carl's day at the park and complained about the hot weather as they pulled away the quilt, leaving only the thin sheets. They both crawled into bed and with one last kiss, Lori switched the lamp off and went to sleep, all of her worries disappearing.
In the morning, she found all the open windows had been shut and locked.
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Note: I don't think this story will be too long, probably somewhere between 9-13 chapters.
What do you guys think? Keen to see how Rick will navigate through this impossible situation?
Thank you for that great response to the first chapter, I'm tickled-pink by your support.
CADEL