Red River Blue
Chapter 80
"Sometimes it happens," Aaron said with a trace of regret in his voice. "Sometimes they just slip away." He felt Tyreese's large hand come down, resting on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.
"Maybe we shouldn't wait so long before we talk to the next one?," Tyreese suggested. Aaron shrugged and nodded his head. He hated going back home empty handed. But they needed to get back soon. The two men were quiet on their walk back to the car. Even though they weren't bringing anyone back with them, Aaron didn't think the trip was a total waste. He found out a lot about Tyreese. The more time he spent with the man, the more he liked and trusted him. He seemed to be one of the few people in the group that hadn't yet been totally hardened by what he saw out there in the beyond.
"Look," Tyreese said, pointing out the car window as they drove. "Maybe the trip wasn't a waste after all." Aaron quickly slowed the car to a stop. Tyreese was pointing at a large warehouse. And parked in front of it were a row of food trucks. Even if only one of them was full, it would still make the long trip they made more than worth it.
A few minutes later, the two men were trapped in a car, surrounded by the dead. Aaron twisted his body, looking for any possible route of escape. Tyreese was the one that found the note. They had been lured into a trap. And they were not the first ones. Aaron guessed the large row of food trucks would be enough to lure almost anyone in.
The two men went back and forth a little, kicking around ideas on how to escape the precarious situation. Tyreese thought they ought to roll the window down a little on one side and start stabbing the walkers through the crack. It was sure to wind the rest of them up, and maybe then they could escape easier out the other side of the car. But before they could attempt it, the walkers on that side started dropping. Aaron heard a voice, calling out and telling them to move now. He was scared for a moment that the help they were receiving might be just another part of the trap. But since he was out of options, he climbed out of the car behind Tyreese and started killing the dead. A black man with a fighting stick was their unlikely hero.
"I'm Aaron. This is Tyreese."
"Morgan," the man said. He held out his hand and Aaron shook it. Tyreese did the same. The man smiled.
"We have a community nearby. If you'd like you can come with us," Aaron offered. He hadn't watched or listened to this man. But since Morgan saved him from certain death, Aaron decided that was enough to pay for his ticket into Alexandria.
"I'd like that," Morgan said. "...But I'm actually on my way somewhere. I'm lost. Maybe you could help me. I'm looking for someone." Morgan pulled out a well worn map from his pocket and handed it over to Aaron. Tyresse smiled when he saw Abraham's sloppy writing on the side that Aaron unfolded.
They were in such a hurry to get away from the teeming swarm of the dead, Aaron never retrieved his pack. He dropped it near one of the food trucks when instead of finding food inside, dozens of walkers surged out. The bag sat undisturbed for some time, the feet of the dead occasionally shoving against it. Once the dead were back in their corrals, the man that set the trap limped over and lifted the bag up off the ground, hoping to find something of value inside.
There was a jar of applesauce. A few protein bars. And a bottle of water. No weapons. No bullets. And oddly enough, a large stack of black and white pictures. The man was ready to discard them when one of the women in the photo caught his eye.
"Bitch," he cursed.
She was dressed differently. And holding a guitar in her hands. But he would know that bitch anywhere. He remembered her long blonde hair and the look in her eyes when she shot him in the knee and left him for the dead. The only thing left to do now was to find her. Then he was going to make her pay.