Rick woke up vomiting all over the stone floor. The bile was fetid, a dark brown-ish red that smelled coppery and acidic and burned as it came up his throat and out his mouth. He heaved loudly over the side of the bed as he emptied the contents of his stomach, tears prickling in his eyes as the taste made him gag and mouth salivate with thin, sour liquid. His hands were white knuckled and shaking when he felt he had nothing left, head heavy and fatigued.
He fell onto his back, body making a heavy thump as he hit the lumpy mattress, arm over his face. His skin felt clammy even to himself, slick with cold sweat. The clothes he wore stuck to him, scratchy against his skin, sensitive with sickness. That night he felt hot and cold as his body fought off an unknown virus as best it could. He fell asleep fitfully and it was in his deep sleep that his systems did what it could and released the toxins hot in his gut that was now the foul-smelling product on the floor.
"Rick." Morgan called. He was at the bars, staring at him with concern. His son sat up awake in the bed, startled by the noise. "What the hell was that?"
Rick's tongue felt fat in his mouth and harder to move than usual as he slurred his words. He could just make out the other, his figure a little blurry around the edges like he was behind a dirty glass. "I can't tell you. I don't know." The arm that was bit was pale and looked lifeless, but it moved just fine like the rest of him. The torn skin was raw with blackened, dried blood. It needed to be cleaned before it festered, but scrubbing the scabs off would re-open the wound. He put it over his calming stomach.
"Can you stand?"
"... I'll try."
He gave himself a few seconds, making use of Morgan's patience before throwing his legs over and getting to his feet. He sidestepped the dark puddle and made sure to not look at it when he didn't need to as he centered his balance. He felt a little better now that his blood was circulating as it should while he was upright. Rick came up to the bars, holding on with both hands and wanting to rest his head against it, but he kept his head straight and eyes lidded as Morgan looked him over.
A dark hand came through the bars, hesitating before touching his forehead. It pulled away as quick as it was there, and then Morgan was saying, "Open your eyes and look up." Rick did, as much as it made his eyes ache and water.
"That's not right... You should be feverish... I mean, you were feverish. But you ain't no more." Morgan pulled the key out of his pocket, going for the door, "Eyes ain't yellowin' neither."
"What are you doing?" Rick rasped. He almost couldn't believe what he was seeing as Morgan juggled the keys until he got the right one and unlocked the cell door. He gawped at Morgan like he had lost his mind. "I'm turnin' into one a' them-"
Morgan shook his head, stopping Rick mid-sentence. "Ya gonna turn then the symptoms wouldn't have stopped before it even really begun. You are one lucky bastard, Grimes." He pulled the door open despite the once-cop's quiet, but firm, opposition.
Rick sighed, staring at Morgan and weighing the situation before stepping out. He held the injured arm over his chest, keeping it close to his body. It didn't burn anymore, but there was this phantom throbbing coming from it in a memory of how it felt from just hours before, showing itself in a dull, hot ache. The edges were torn and gruesome, showing signs of infection- a normal infection. Pink skin glistened with pus, blackened blood and red flesh right underneath. The skin was alive and healing.
Morgan pulled him under a flickering light, taking the injured arm and turning it to view the damage. "Now, if I was a scientist, I'd want to see this under a telescope. See what the hell you got." He snorted softly to himself as he let go, leaving Rick to look at the too dark dried blood.
Rick huffed quietly, "I'll just count my lucky stars."
"You do that." Morgan tilted his head towards the doorway. "Found that the water is runnin'. Ain't no more of them walkers in the halls. We downed the one trapped inside." A small smile made it on his features, "My son and I made use of the showers while you were out."
"A shower sounds real good right now." Rick said, a smile of his own tugging on the corner of his lips.
Rick tugged on the uniform, a sense of familiarity flooding within him as he buttoned up the khaki shirt and tucked it into his pants. He stared at himself in the mirror now, skin cleaned and newly shaved, almost like his time in the hospital had never past and the world outside had not just become as it did. He only had to ignore how thin he now looked from starving in his coma unattended and how the bite on his arm was a stark contrast against his pale skin. He washed off all of the contaminated blood and revealed the mangled flesh underneath, red and raw and alive. It was wrapped up in a cloth now.
Morgan entered the locker room, a medical kit in hand that Rick recognized from the cell block. He was waved over and Morgan set the kit on the bench, taking a seat. Rick sat on the opposite side.
"How's the bite?" he asked and opened the kit. He was pulling out alcohol wipes and cotton squares, then a roll of bandages. He held a hand out and Rick placed his arm in it, letting him take a look over it.
Rick shrugged. "Looks fine. Walker got a hold on it, but not too much damage." He could count the teeth etched into his arm.
Morgan snorted, lips pressed together in a firm, dry grin and then he was cleaning around the wound and wrapping it up. "I don't think it'll need stitches. Werewolf genes, you think?"
"You mean tougher skin?" A laugh. "Fairy tales. But we do heal faster. Could be that."
"Could be." His hands were quick and practiced, wrapping the gauze around his arm tightly. "Could be why you're not a walker too."
Rick had thought about it. It rolled around in his mind why he hadn't died and come back to life while he let the cool water run over his body. It reminded him why he hasn't seen another werewolf drifting around with unseeing, milky eyes and rotting on their feet, hungry for human flesh. It was a little unsettling. As much as his genes were keeping alive right now, it also served to prove the point that werewolves weren't quite like the people they're trying to join. Just one step too many on the wrong side.
Either way, Morgan wasn't up on his feet demanding to be changed. The curse is not exactly a blessing when the world they're trying to survive in is decaying around them.
"There ya go." Morgan wiped his hands on the back of his pants and started to pack away the kit. Rick flexed his arm out of habit, testing out the give. He looked up when Morgan stood, already heading back towards the other room. "Think it's time we head our separate ways."
Rick nodded and got to his feet as well. A quick check around made sure he wasn't leaving anything behind before he was following after the other man. "It's time. Thank you for comin' out here with me." He smiled at him, then he was nodding at Duane who smiled brightly back. He hoped they'd make it. The bags waiting for him were thrown over his shoulder and he was ready to go.
"You be safe out there, man." Morgan said and held out his hand, bowing his head as they shared a short shake of hands.
"You too...- oh, wait-" Rick pulled at his bags and then dug through one. Morgan looked on curiously until Rick took out a walkie talkie and handed it to him. His face reflected understanding as he held the device close to himself. "I'll ring you in every day, tell you what's going on outside of town. If it's safe, you and Duane should head over." He had found the walkie talkies in the armory, at first not having a plan for them other than something he thought would be of use in the future. This was as good a chance as any to use them now.
"I'll take you up on that." Morgan grinned and he passed the item to his son who came nearer. His hand went to the back of his neck, holding his boy close. "Do you need a ride to the edge of town?"
Rick shook his head, "I got it taken care of."
Rick watched the pair go before he was on the move again. He decided against changing into his wolf form, though it probably would have been faster and safer for him to get to the center of Atlanta that way. Taking on the change would be useless now with the weight of the bags holding him back. Through the maze of crash sites and abandoned vehicles, he found himself a car, luckily with the keys still in the ignition and door swung wide open. He could guess that the owner had made a run for it and still had the force of habit to turn off the vehicle. The engine roared to life and from there Rick zoomed out of town. He knew he didn't have enough gas on him to get the city, but it was too late now to go siphoning for gas and he didn't want to wander around in the open for very long. He passed a few of those walkers, as he came to call them now, glad for the barrier between himself and their mindless chase. Looking into the rear view mirror, he could still see them coming after him even though at this speed it was useless.
The gas tank gave him nearly half an hour's worth of travel before the car was beeping at him in warning. Rick cursed to himself in the silence, pushing the vehicle on to its very last drop. He shouldn't be more than 15 miles out of the city. He found himself muttering to himself, urging the car for just a bit more while the road was still empty and quiet, but it eventually slowed to a stop and the engine died just like that.
He let out a loud sigh, leaning against the headrest with a quiet thump. A hand came up to rub over his temple and then into his hair, scanning over the supplies he'd brought and trying to figure out how he's going to take with him. It was possible, but the supplies were heavy and if he needed to protect himself, he'd have better luck with that dropping it all and getting the guns would have been for naught.
He had no choice anyway. Trees were on both sides of the road and there wasn't another car within sight. He'd just gotten off the freeway, sped down a high way where less cars frequented. He probably should have taken the chance and attempted to hotwire another car while it was still possible in the cramped, still, main road.
Rick opened the door, the car beeping steadily when the keys were still in the ignition. He went to the back and grabbed the two bags, feeling the weight of it cut the straps into his shoulder. He made sure he had a handgun at his belt just in case. Rick hoped he didn't have to use it.
A quick search of the car left him empty handed for any close range weapons. As he made his way on foot, he took care to be quiet now that he was vulnerable. He was hoping the beeping car on the dead silent road would tempt any walkers in that direction while Rick hid himself in the woods, just far enough to still see the clearing of the road. On foot, this could take him all day, and he wasn't looking forward to the coming night.
He wished he had someone to talk to while he walked. The silence was deafening and he was completely unused to the absence of sound. The wind was nearly non-existent so the dense forest was still and lifeless. Every distant, small sound- the breaking of a twig, the scurry of a small animal- was like foil being balled up next to his ear. It bothered him most when he couldn't pin point the source.
For once, he thank his fucked up genes when he could smell the stench of rotting flesh and hear the distant groans a little up the way coming towards his direction before they could even notice him. It derailed him for a bit when he had to change course just to be missed by the mindlessly stumbling horde. He hid himself between a tree and a bush, peering over the foliage to watch the group of eight as they bounded towards one direction.
It was the second time Rick was able to sit back and just watch these creatures as they ambled towards some unknown destination, but this time he had his heart in his throat and nervous sweat prickling down his back. He watched them with his back to the tree, turning enough so he could just see them as they past, catching side profiles of wrinkled, gray faces and the gore that was ever present on them. He was too startled to wonder where they were headed and why they were drifting as a pack when he had thought the beasts to be mindless and mostly unaware. They hadn't detected him at all and he just noticed how tightly he'd dug his fingers into the bark as his heart rate slowed back down to normal.
Rick didn't think he'd make it to Atlanta that night until he found a nearby shed. He'd simply went in hoping to find a rake or pitchfork to protect himself, but found a couple of abandoned horses instead. The horses had reared back at the sight of him, but then came slowly forward with tosses of their large heads and quiet trots. He released them all and took one, and rode the horse all the way to Atlanta, making it before sundown.
Rick's entered the city on an eerily empty bridge. The one next to it, the one with the road leading the people out was packed bumper to bumper. It was so quiet the sounds of the horse's hooves hitting the gravel echoed down the road and his own quiet breathing sounded thin to his own ears. The horse carried on forward, but Rick couldn't tear his eyes away from the contrasting road and couldn't help himself from imagining the panic in people's faces as they tried their best to get away from danger.
His eyes moved downward. The further along they move towards the city, the gorier the area around the cars and bridge become. He could almost count out the bloody finger prints smudged onto metal surfaces, the scent of it in the air surfacing a scene of screaming people, young and old, men and women. Rick's hands curled tight around the reins, blinking back the images as the brim of his sheriff's hat blocked his sight. It felt like his ears were ringing with the past's screams.
The city was no better. There were vehicles that didn't even make it out, one even a small bus that crashed into a line of parallel parked cars. He only peeked inside for the moment he'd gone past, seeing the bodies lying there in death like they'd been when their lives had been brutally taken away from them. The horse's nerves were starting to show, his reluctance appearing with every hesitant step back he took. Rick patted his neck, hand moving down the brown fur comfortingly, murmuring to the gelding like he'd been doing the past couple of hours to end the silence.
Rick was starting to lose hope the further into town he went. He didn't know what to expect when he entered Atlanta, but it sure as hell wasn't this. He expected a city closed down in the hopes of survival, he expected being detained and checked for the virus that took the lives of many and reanimated the dead the bodies. It might have been his great imagination then, but his imagination couldn't have really prepared him for the destruction of millions.
That's when he heard it. He heard it before the gelding, his head looking up at the odd metallic, hollow flapping of a helicopter. Rick spun the horse around, a sudden bought of disorientation as he tried to pinpoint the position of the sound. The sound of the chopper's blades were literally bouncing off the tall buildings and seemed to center into him. "Shhh... calm, boy." Rick shushed, even if his own breaths were trying to silence themselves as he whipped his head about. He saw the reflection of it bounce of a tall sky rise window, and it took him a bit to turn the horse in its direction and take chase.
The wind blowing into his ears deafened him and he didn't take notice to all the noise they were making with the sharp sounds of the horse's hooves meeting the ground. Rick simply wanted the helicopter to come down, and the attention of the people within it. It was something Rick held onto that there were still people who survived the virus, and Rick would take any help he could get.
His eyes remained heavenward, glued to the black silhouette of the helicopter that continued to evade him. Rick was already panting for breath as the horse ran, trying his best to remain on his back with every muscle of his body. He couldn't lose that helicopter now.
He nearly screamed for it to wait, even though he knew whoever inside would not hear him at that height. They were just about to make a turn when the horse reared back, nearly dislodging Rick and sending him tumbling to the floor. His eyes finally left the helicopter, crushed as it disappeared behind the buildings. His heart when down somewhere near his stomach when he finally looked down and saw where his dramatic chase had left him.
Ice blue eyes scanned for an escape, alert raised high as both horse and werewolf circled and looked for an exit. Eventually they simply took the opposite direction of the closest oncoming walker, but yet the bodies were closing in. There were thousands of them, millions if he could let himself believe that the whole city had gone under, milky eyed and empty stomached, seeing for the first time in a while warm flesh to devour.
The finally closed in enough that the horse couldn't do more than back trot and screech in anguish. Rick was pushing off the hands that grabbed and slipped over their bodies, fear eating away at his core. They managed a few steps away, but then the gelding was getting up onto his feet again in a final attempt to flee, front legs kicked out in front of him to knock down the few snapping their jaws. It threw Rick off of his back and Rick landed on the ground, rolling away from the lunging bodies that circled the horse, bringing him down until he couldn't use his strong legs to fight.
There was no time to think or feel any remorse for the horse. Rick was surrounded too, and he tried his best to get away. He was on the ground more than he was standing up, kicking and punching at ice cold hands and giving himself just another second of relief. He crawled on his belly and refused to look behind him as he crawled underneath the first thing he saw. It was a tight fit underneath the tank, his bare arms scratched on the gravel as he tried to put as much distance between himself and the walkers that got to the ground and came after him. Their hissing breaths was all he heard, the light at the end of the tunnel was all he saw. He knew his life was over when a couple more of the undead in front of him went to the ground and crawled towards him. He pulled his gun from his holster, landing a good few head shots and saved one bullet for himself.
Rick's eyes shut and he apologized to his wife and son as he brought out his gun to his head. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he opened his eyes and saw an opening- an opening he took without question as he dragged his body up and away from danger. The latch door he dropped shut and then he was scooting himself back as far away from the door as possible. He gulped in air, thanking whoever out there was watching over him as he continued to keep surviving, hoping that it'll still be there so he could reach his wife and kid. Cooling himself to think of his next step, he looked around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the dead soldier besides him. It didn't move or take to his presence, so Rick went for it's gun.
He noticed last minute that all his tugging had awoken the dead, and this time Rick didn't hesitate and brought his own gun up to it's temple. He didn't think of the consequences as he pulled the trigger, blasting it's grey, oozing brain all over the tank wall. Rick's vision blurred, his brain thumping hard in his skull as a piercing high-pitched tone plugged both his ears. The world around him spun. Rick let his head drop into his hands over his bent knees.
There was static on the radio. Rick had lost count of the minutes, distracted by the sounds around him that continued to grow. The static now overrode the growling and hissing coming from outside. It felt like days past before a voice came through. "Hey, dumbass! Are you alive in there?"
Rick pushed himself off his backside and towards the counsel, grabbing the hand held radio tight enough to hear the plastic creek, "Yeah," he gasped, "where are you?"
There was silence on the other end that stretched for nearly a minute that Rick started to believe he'd made the voice up. His hand curled tighter around the radio, fearful that he might actually break it in his hand, but his nerves were making him shake and this was the only thing grounding him in the moment. "Hello!" Rick shouted impatiently.
"Sorry, yeah. I'm on the roof of –- got a clear visual of you in that tank. You want to get out, you gotta listen to me."
'Why should I trust you?"
"Well, if you don't want my help then-"
"No! … No. I do. What do I do?"
…
Static blemished the quiet and the sound was starting to grate on Rick's nerves the longer he waited. He was going to tear this place apart. He was desperate at his point, with his vision of the outside blocked but the sounds revealing to him that he was surrounded. Rick was feeling his anger rising as the silence from above continued to stretch on with the other taking his time or teasing him with the plan of escape. Impatiently, he pressed down on the button and growled, "You there?"
"Hold your horses! Shit!" Static. "I gotta time this just right. You don't want to get out of the tank and just jump into the arms of those geeks do you? Might as well stick an apple in your mouth and lay yourself down on a silver platter. Wait for my signal."
Rick waited. His stomach felt like it was filled with squirming worms while nervous sweat beaded on his forehead and face. He knew what was out there the moment he opened the latch.
"Okay, in a couple of minutes the road on the other side of the tank will have a good clearing. When your horse went down it's been a feeding frenzy and they all have gone to get a piece. You got anything on you?"
"Wait a mo- just wait." Rick went back to the soldier and looted him of his gun. He pulled out the cartridge, counting the bullets before patting down the soldier for anymore, but coming up empty handed. His eyes scanned around, looking for anything else. A grenade sat up top, and he snatched it up.
He returned to the radio, opening the clip and counting the bullets. "I have a Beretta, 15 bullets. I got more in that bag I left behind. Can I get it?"
"Forget the bag! Make those count. There will be one to your left upon exiting the tank. Get him out of the way before he gets you."
"Alright."
"And when you do get out? Run. There is an escape ladder that'll take you up here. If you can do this all under five minutes, you'll survive. Go."
Rick shoved reached above, finding himself a short shovel he could use for close range attack. He took in one deep breath before he was opening the latch above him, pulling himself out of the tank and onto the top. The man's words rang true about the walker to his left, the creature turning towards him with a growl before tripping and climbing its way across. Rick swung at it and a deep welt cut across it's gray face. It fell back and Rick jumped down, groaning as a shockwave shot up his legs from the force of his fall. His head whipped around, looking for those bags he dropped when the horse had reared back, there was no hope for retrieval now as more caught sight of him and lunged in his direction.
Run. He bolted off towards the right and in front of him stood a two story supermarket. It wasn't a straight line like he'd of hoped, and he found himself fending off and dodging rotting bodies with their greedy hands clawing at his clothes and trying to drag him to the floor. He managed to pull himself away, flinging his body forward with all the strength he had, his lungs burning as he made a break for it towards the emergency escape.
The soldier's gun in his hand was raised, even though to these beasts it was an empty threat. His finger remained off the trigger, but he was tempted to blow as many brains out as possible. He had to keep dodging, ducking, retreating even just to hopefully extend his survival and push forward.
Don't shoot don't shoot! He had to, and the bullet was released between a walker's eyes when it managed to lock both hands around his arms. Blood spurted out over the pavement and more milky eyes turned in his direction. Rick took the chance and shot one after another, his gunshots ringing loudly and bringing attention to himself. He found an open fence and disappeared into the alley where he climbed the ladder fast until his muscles ached and the air stung going into his lungs.
"Nice moves there, pulling some Clint Eastwood shit!" The Asian practically yelled as he pulled Rick up the rest of the way. Rick was on his knees on the floor, hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. The Asian couldn't have been an adult when he first looked at him, sitting there with a frustrated look on his face. "You a sheriff? Still a dumbass!"
"Sorry." Rick panted and shoved a hand through his hair. His face was flushed and sweat slid down his temple and onto his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand before getting up on his feet, holding a hand out of the Asian man to take.
"Nearly gave me a heart attack." the younger man said and took the offered hand. "I'm Glenn."
"Rick. Thanks."
"Yeah... you're welcome." Glenn nodded and shook the hand in his before letting go. He looked over the ledge with a heavy sigh, scrunching his nose up at the walkers snapping their jaws and reaching for them from so far below. "Good news? At this height, it'll be the fall that kills us. I'm a glass half full kinda guy." He walked the opposite direction and Rick followed as they put as much distance as they could between the walkers and themselves on the rooftops.
"Were you the ones that blocked out the alley?"
"What? No. Think the city did that when the outbreak started. People probably thought not that many geeks could get through." He ran the rest of the way towards a rooftop entrance, opening it up so he can throw his bag down before following it.
"Why did you stick your neck out for me back there?"
"Call it foolishness or me being naïve, but if there was ever a chance I needed help, then I would hope this'll come back around and someone would do the same for me." Glenn flashed him a smile, "Guess I'm an even bigger dumbass than you." He got on the ladder to make his way back down. Rick jumped on next.
"I owe you."
"Yeah, you do."
The kid was cheeky, Rick could give him that.
They went down to the first floor where Glenn pulled out a walkie talkie and started to talk into it. His voice carried on fast, almost too fast for Rick to understand and he wondered if the people on the other side even caught it. As they were descending a short case of stairs, Glenn had stopped abruptly and Rick nearly barrelled into him. He looked up and saw two walkers coming their way.
"Shit. You got that shovel on you?"
Rick didn't even remember where he last dropped it. "No."
They held their breath and Rick's hand curled around his gun defensively. It was then the door on the opposite side flung open and two heavily armored man came running out with heavy, metal bats. They took the walkers down to the floor with their strong swings, smashing their heads flat against the concrete with their strikes.
Glenn shoved Rick forward and both men ran towards the open door. "Come on let's go! Let them rot, they're done! Let's go!" The two men finished their job and came back in as fast as they went out and the door came slamming shut behind them.
Rick could only hold his breath as a gun was held to his head, nearly falling back if only he wasn't cornered against a table top with a blonde woman glaring at him through angry tears. His hands came up and he stared down the barrel at the woman and how she shook and tried to look menacing, despite the watery frown on her red face. "You killed us!" She screamed and the gun is pressed closer, but not enough to touch him. He could tell she's never held a gun to a person in her life, "You got their attention and now they're all here! You killed us!"
"Dammit, Andrea! Back off!" One of the men covered from head to toe in thickly layered cotton armor strode forward.
"You're kidding me right? We're all dead because of this asshole." She hissed and her small hand bunched up in his khaki shirt, gun shaking even more. He looked over to the Mexican and back at Rick, finger temptingly laying over the trigger.
"I said back the hell off! Or pull the trigger."
Rick swallowed thickly, eyes staring into hers, but not pleading for his life. He could see that she didn't have it in her to kill a man just yet and within a few seconds she was dropping her gun with a curse. "We're dead. All of us. Because of you."
"I don't understand..."
"Look." His armed was grabbed and he looked around to make sure Glenn was still behind him as he was dragged forward, mostly for his own comfort. The stranger was pulling him away as he said, "We left our group back where it's safe while we go into town to scavenge for supplies. It was gonna be an easy in and out we're done. That was our plan for survival. You know what surviving is, right? That means sneaking around, not shooting a gun like it's the O.K. Corral." They entered the front of the department store where the windows had clouded up with grime and dust, but the silhouettes of the bodies beyond that were clear. The black man with them nudged his shoulder from behind.
"Everythin' from miles around heard you poppin' off rounds. It bought them all here."
They all jumped as beyond the meaty beating of fists hitting glass, a much sharper bang of something more solid hit the window. Andrea released a whimper, a hand coming over her quivering lips, while the other grasped the only other woman in the group. They moved back and they were back to questioning him, pointing their fingers at him.
"The hell were you doing out there anyway?"
"I was trying to flag down a helicopter." Rick threw an arm out and then his hands on his hips, eyes still on the windows stressed by the weight pushing on it.
The black man snorted, "That's a load of shit. There ain't no helicopter."
"You were hallucinating. It happens..." The nameless woman said, voice calm. Her brown eyes still held a bit of accusation.
Rick frowned, voice firm, "I saw it."
"Fine. Fine, whatever! We gotta get out now." Glenn said in a rush. "T-Dog, you got a signal?"
The black man held up his walkie talkie, but all he got was static. "Can't reach the others."
"Others? You mean at the refugee center?"
The darker woman scoffed, "Yeah, the refugee center. They're baking biscuits back there."
"Guys stop it!" Glenn huffed and said to T-Dog, "Maybe up on the roof?"
They all ducked when ringing gunshots from outside penetrated the store. Andrea looked on the edge of hysterical as she paced, pushing back the loose strands of her pony tail. "That Dixon? That idiot!" She was the first to run further in, taking the stairs to get to the roof. She was tailed by everyone else just as the cracks in the windows started to look like they were going to shatter to the ground.
They rushed out and on the ledge stood a tall, older male with a rife in his hands, shooting out at the crowd of zombies coming their way. He had this gleeful grin on his face, his blue eyes shined glassy under the sun. Rick recognized his face immediately.
"Hey Dixon! Are you crazy?!" The Mexican shouted, but it was T-Dog and Andrea that dared to go nearer to the armed man.
Dixon laughed, waving around the rifle like it was a toy, "Hey, hey, hey! You should know better than to disrespect a man holding a gun... or at least have the common sense." He jumped off the ledge, his stride confident and wide.
"Ya can't be wastin' bullets we ain' even got out, man! Now ya'll bringin' 'em all down here- the hell is wrong wit'chu? Just chill!" T-Dog threw his arms up, gestures that berated the Dixon's actions. His speech got thick with his street talk, enough to make Dixon's upper lip curl in distaste.
"Hey! Bad enough I got this taco-vendor on my ass all day, now I'm going to take orders from you? I don't think so. That'll be the day."
"'That'll be the day'? You got somethin' ya wanna tell me?"
The other man tried to break in, "Hey T-Dog, just leave it-" "- No-" "-It ain't worth it!"
Merle scoffed, his chin raised like he was above them, "Ya wanna know the day? … I'll tell ya the day, Mr. Yo. It's the day that I take orders from a mangy mongrel dog-"
"Mother fucker-" T-Dog dealt the first punch, but Dixon was bigger and stronger than him, easily taking the hit and dishing out his own. Rick jumped in when the issue got out of hand, the others screaming for the two to knock it off, but Merle had gone into a rage and he was beating down on a wolf brother.
Rick's nose flared at the human male's violence and he grabbed him on the shoulder to drag him off the other when he was caught in the face with a nasty punch, putting him on the floor on his side. He just caught the sight of Dixon slamming T-Dog face first in the pipe, his blood shining red on the metal gray.
Rick saw red. T-Dog was already on his back, head tucked down instinctively as he refused to submit. The others were cowering as Dixon talked over them, trying to gain their following through fear. When he asked for a raise of hands, the Mexican was the first to do so, then Glenn hesitantly, and Andrea. The last woman pulled up a middle finger, but she didn't do more.
Dixon gloated loudly and then he asked if he was going to have any opposition. Rick had just picked up the rifle Dixon dropped and he came up behind the other man, growling out a quiet, "Yeah. Me." When Dixon turned around, his eyes showing shock, the butt of the rifle came crashing down over his head and Rick was there grabbing a thick wrist, cuffing him to the pipe.
Rick dragged the man up by his shirts, and snarled in his face as Dixon spat out threats. "You best show some respect to a man with a gun. Or at least some common sense." Rick growled the repeated words.
Dixon bared his teeth at him, his cloudy eyes staring at him in anger before they grew thoughtful. "Who the hell are you, man?"
"Officer Friendly. Now you learn somethin' quick. There are no dogs here anymore, like there is no dumb as shit white trash inbreds. There is only red meat and dead meat, There is us, and them. We get through this by pulling together, not apart."
"Yeah, yeah, Officer. Seen ya before... had I hit yer town before? Caught'chu some wolf and brought ta town-" he paused, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I know you now, Officer Friendly. Almost didn't recognize ya without'cher collar. They let the dog out of the cage?"
"I see you make the habit of missing the point." The gun hammer was pulled back and Rick was holding a gun to Dixon's temple. "Merle. I can call you that? You're gonna stay right here while the rest of us plan a way out."
"Yer gonna shoot me? Do it. Ye're just a dog."
"I'm just a man looking for his wife and son. Anything getting in the way of that is going to lose. Do you understand that?" Dixon narrowed his eyes at him, lips curling again in disgust at him. Rick lifted the man's chin and then flicked his nose with a knowing exhale of a breath, then searched his pockets. "You missed somethin' there."
He left the man sitting there chained to the pipe and threw his small tube of coke over the ledge. He next heard Dixon pulling on his cuff, screaming at him for doing so. It was easier to ignore the man when he was less threatening and on the ground.
"When I get out of this ya better pray! You hear me! You freak! You filthy monster!"
The original plan was a failure before it even started. Jackie had told them all about the sewers underneath a building as old as this one when they realized a walk through the undead would be virtually impossible, but when Glenn and Morales went to check it out, only found a dead end. They gathered together on the rooftop to evaluate and soon Rick was suggesting something he knew they'd all hate.
It had to be done.
They took from the department store the items they need to protect their skin from what they were about to do and once their skin was covered, Morales and T-Dog were dragging in one of the dead bodies they downed in the alleyway. It was taken into an empty room with concrete flooring, the space wide enough for them to circle the dead body lying flat on the ground.
Rick had a fire axe in his hands, having broken it out as the others retrieved the walker. His lips firmed, axe raised once the people had backed away, but he couldn't bring himself to bring the axe down on the body. He made a few starts, arms tense over his head, but the sharp end of the axe never found the body. He dropped it to the floor with a fast exhale of breath he didn't know he held, breathing in and out shakily as he bent over the body.
He could feel everyone's curious gaze on him as he rifled through the walker's pockets and got it's wallet. He flipped it open, read the name, saw a glimpse into this man's life. There wasn't much more he could do for him, and he hoped his soul was resting. It was short of an actual prayer for the dead, and he felt the man before he became a walker deserved much more than this, to be disemboweled for a disguise. He had nothing to say.
"Wait." Glenn stopped him, still holding up the card. Rick had picked the axe up again and knew this time he wouldn't miss. "He's an organ donor." Like that made it any better.
"Okay." The axe came down, cutting through air and then into the stomach of the corpse. Sounds of disgust came out of the group as Rick continued to disembowel and dismember the walker, breaking up guts and spilling foul smelling fluid all of the floor. Glenn was the most sick, couldn't even look in the direction of the gore and gagging every few seconds.
Each blow was draining on Rick's energy. He couldn't help but feel like this was all wrong as he mutilated a human body for their use. He never thought once that a necessity would make a monster out of him and that he'd be brought to attack a human body. Before this, walkers were things - creatures that hungered for him and made a prey out of him and needed to be fought off. The corpse laying before him, though, only reminded him that those walking corpses were still all too human.
He passed the axe over to Morales when he could do no more, but held his arm out to stop him from continuing. He dug his gloved fingers into the mess of the caved in torso and reached for Glenn, who whimpered and shut his eyes. He tried to get every bit on the raincoat he donned and told the younger man to keep breathing and think of something else.
T-Dog muttered something about dead kittens and puppies and soon the stench of bile added to what was already in the air.
Andrea was putting a string of intestine around Glenn's neck and looking up as Rick continued to smother the Asian in guts, saw how his mouth trembled in it's deep frown. He felt sorry for the kid and patted him on the shoulder, feeling he was done for now.
"Remember, you're not the bait here. That's me and T-Dog's job. Just try not to stick out like a sore thumb."
"Right. Just gonna pretend to be one of them, right? Easy as pie." His words were confident, but his tone wasn't, those brown eyes wide.
Andrea pushed aside a corner of Glenn's raincoat, putting her gun in the waistband of his pants. "If you need it. You keep yourself safe out there, Glenn."
"Thank you, Andrea."
"You better come back for us."
Before they let Morales open the door, Rick handed over the key for Merle. "You unlock him immediately. He either follows or he doesn't. If he's a threat, kill him."
Morales nodded, his hand tight around the key and then he was opening the door.
T-Dog and Rick rushed out, downing the two walkers in the alley. T-Dog used a bat, the dull thuds louder than the sounds of Rick's axe cutting through flesh. When they showed no sign of movement he nodded for Morales to close the door and then both men were disrobing where they stood.
"You really gotta do this naked?" Glenn whined, but it was more from having to waste time waiting for the other two men to shift. He knew nothing about werewolves, but from what he'd managed to learn the short time he knew T-Dog, he at least knew they were in control in both forms. He shifted from foot to foot, watching them both impatiently.
"Yeah, now would'ja shut up? This ain't never pleasant." T-Dog grimaced and dropped his eyes, facial features twisting as his flexed his muscles. He was transforming before Rick could, his quiet growl lost within the alley.
Glenn's jaw dropped, his eyes wide as he watched a transformation before his eyes. Rick quietly snarled at him to turn away and the kid did quickly, his face colored pale and green. Rick soon started the change as well, feeling a little sick to the stomach as his body crunched and formed into the familiar massive body of his wolf.
Both wolves stood next to each other, large bodies that reached Glenn mid chest. He was a bit in awe of the canines, one a gleaming gray and the other a deep brown. He sighed heavily, lips pursed and eyebrows raised in disbelief. He was in the presence of wolves and they weren't tearing into his stomach.
"Okay. So I'll go out first and head towards the direction of the construction site, right? You'll be right behind me?"
Rick nodded once and huffed loudly through his snout for the kid to get moving. Glenn muttered, "Okay, okay..." and was getting on the floor to crawl underneath the bus.
Rick and T-Dog lay in wait, bodies nearly flat against the floor as Glenn crawled out. They watched with sharp, glowing eyes underneath the bus as the human walked into the crowd of corpses, limping and wielding the axe in both hands. They couldn't see the fear in his face, but they could scent it on him and see it in his drawn up shoulders. Luckily, the walkers considered him one of theirs and let him pass.
Glenn made the first block without issue and that was when Rick moved out with T-Dog right behind him. They were silent as they quickly moved around, but soon they were gaining attention. Rick started growling, barking loudly before releasing a loud howl. T-Dog bared his large teeth, snapping strong jaws as the undead labelled them as food and stumbled towards them and away from Glenn.
They ran around them, easily outmanoeuvring the bodies that walked on unstable legs, lunging low enough to fall face first and missing them by inches. Rick felt the adrenaline flow his body, high with the chase as he bowled over hungry corpses with the front of his paws or his side. He trusted T-Dog to watch his own back, and could hear the other wolf's confident barks and growls as he tore flesh underneath his paws.
He'd only had to attack T-Dog once, and that was to stop him from biting into the neck of a walker. A single snarl got the point across and they were back to before, making sure they made as much noise as possible and bravely keeping the corpses from noticing Glenn. They made sure to keep a safe distance from him, winding the walkers around on a meaningless chase, rounding them up like cattle. They took the collection of undead around the corner, making sure they were distracted and lost before heading back through alleyways, too quick on their feet for the undead to follow.
They did it again and again until rain fell from the gray sky. Scents started to change, the strong scent of wet pavement making the stench of the corpses stale and Glenn's own muddled. Rick could see ahead of him how Glenn started to stumble further away from the corpses that were coming closer, noticing the change.
Rick sprinted and before the one behind Glenn, who was too scared to turn around a look, could even touch him, Rick was jumping on top of the corpse and ripping his claws through the back of it's head. Immediately the walkers attacked and Rick was rushing into Glenn's back to make him to run.
Rick and T-Dog remained on the ground, making sure Glenn got on the other side of the fence before attempting a jump. Their strong legs made it possible with two, quick paws pulling them up the gate and over. The wolves paced as the walkers attempted to jump over the fence as well, much slower and clumsier than if they were alive. Glenn rushed to get a key for the cube van and then he was jumping in.
"You guys coming or what?!" He screamed, but Rick was shaking his head and T-Dog was staring him down. Glenn was breathing hard, indecision warring within him as he didn't want to leave his two friends behind, but they needed to get the truck to the department store and sitting back would only just get them killed. He floored it and knocked down the gates, the corpses going down with it, and the wolves took the opening as they chased down the high speeding van.
Rick and T-Dog tempted the corpses with their howls. They jumped over bodies, and once one of them had the coast cleared, the other was pulling his head back and calling for the walkers to come near. The howls rang loudly between the buildings over the rain and they kept themselves out in the open so the undead could continue to come closer and closer in the hopes to feed.
They tempted fate by pacing there, clearing the road by being on the other side of the block for Glenn to speed through. When they were close enough, the wolves were retreating, being the distraction Glenn needed. They circled around the block, panting loudly but aided by their urge to survive. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before they noticed the cube van running the opposite direction of the department store.
T-Dog nudged his large head against Rick's side, and once they noticed it was time to go, they were running after the van. Their strong legs caught them up to the van, leaving the creatures that clawed after them on slippery feet. The back door was open and Glenn was slowing down just a bit, enough for both T-Dog and Rick to give that single push and jump in.
They were drenched in rain, water dripping from their fur in puddles on the floor. Towels were thrown over them, Jacqui and Andrea swathing them underneath towels to get their shivering bodies to dry. He felt from underneath hands scrubbing him down and he growled in warning, not wanting these people to touch him.
It stopped and it was oddly silent. Rick expected Merle to start opening his mouth, probably mutter about sharing his space with a couple of wet dogs, but there was none of that, not even an explanation. Completely covered, Rick attempted one more change back into his human body, hissing through clenched teeth the more human he became. T-Dog wasn't nearly as quiet, a sharp yell coming out from under the number of towels on top of him, but he was still breathing. That was all that mattered.
The towels hung around his body and kept his modesty. Rick pulled one of the blankets from his head, scanning around for the people that made it. He counted heads. They were missing one.
Morales wouldn't look at him.
"Where's Dixon?" When he didn't get an answer, he asked quietly, "Did you kill him?"
"No!" Morales said sharply and let his shoulders dropped. "I let him out, but he was a lose cannon. I managed to knock him out on the roof, but he's too heavy- I couldn't- I couldn't take him with me. He's safe!"
"You best hope he is, Morales... Daryl will skin you alive." T-Dog said, even though they all knew underneath it all he must have been a bit happy that they left that man up there to his fate.
Morales nodded quickly, "Of course! I locked him up on the roof with a chain and padlock. Nothin' is going to reach him but us."
Rick cursed under his breath, hand over his mouth. Up on that roof would be a very angry werewolf hunter, one of the best in the East coast, and he was going to blame this all on Rick.