Enjoy.
xXx
Day 60, 23rd October 2010 - Georgia
That night, after the tearful reunion of the Grimes family, everyone sat around one of three burning firepits to keep warm. By one of the firepits, those interested in Rick's story crowded around so they could listen in. People not interested or having other matters to deal with did their own thing. Merle had gone off to one side of the camp to sleep off his high, Morales was sitting by one of the other firepits with his family alongside Jacqui, and Six had slipped away at some point unnoticed.
Sitting by the fire with Carl in his arms and Lori by his side, Rick spoke of his experience waking up from a coma into a world gone mad. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion... All those things but... Disoriented comes closest," he explained, the occasional rumble of thunder from the sky above further adding weight to his words.
Dale offered his own two cents. "Words can be meagre things. Sometimes they fall short." If he had been in Rick's shoes, he'd also struggle to find the words to describe everything that had happened. How could anyone find the right words to describe the feeling of waking up in a world where the dead roamed the streets?
Rick continued. "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever." Even now, with his arms wrapped around his son and wife, he feared he was still dreaming. That at any moment, he might wake up in that dreaded hospital again.
From where he rested on his father's lap, Carl looked up. "Mom said you died."
Rick felt Lori's muscles tense up. He could tell their son's words made Lori feel awkward but he simply smiled down at Carl. "And she had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it" he told him, not at all blaming his wife for thinking him dead. He would've thought the same thing after everything that happened.
Despite what Rick thought, Lori felt like she had to explain herself, all while sharing an awkward glance with Shane. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened.
"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell. And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick could only speculate that the city fell before the hospital, hence why he hadn't been medevacced. Remembering the army of freaks that filled the streets, he was thankful he hadn't been moved to the city.
"Yeah, looks don't deceive, I barely got them out, you know?" said Shane from the other side of the firepit, revealing his part in getting Lori and Carl away from the undead.
"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it" said Rick, voice filled with appreciation and gratitude towards his best friend for getting his wife and son to safety. It mustn't have been easy from what he's seen out there.
Not once did Rick notice his wife look down at the ground to hide her guilt, nor the growing amount of saliva building up in Shane's mouth, which he was nervously gulping away.
"There goes those words falling short again. Paltry things" spoke Dale once again to relieve some of the tension that only Rick didn't seem to sense. The others like Amy, Andrea, Glenn and T-Dog shared knowing looks with each other. They were all keenly aware of Shane's and Lori's meetups in the woods. The two hadn't exactly been discrete about it. At first, they all thought Shane and Lori were married and Carl was their son. But now, with Lori's husband and Shane's best friend back in the picture, there would be drama cooking up in the camp soon.
Luckily, a distraction came when Shane spotted Ed Peletier throw a log into the firepit he and his family were sitting at. The log caused sparks to flutter up into the air. "Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" The group turned to look back at Ed.
"It's cold, man," Ed remarked, leaning back into his seat with his eyes closed. Nobody missed the dismissive tone in Ed's voice.
There was a notable edge in Shane's voice when he next spoke. "The cold don't change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"
"I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once," Ed spat back while throwing a dirty look at Shane from over his shoulder.
Not someone to ignore such disrespect, Shane quickly stood up and marched over to the firepit the Peletier family occupied. He loomed over the sitting Ed, looking not too pleased. "Hey, Ed... Are you sure you want to have this conversation?" he asked, voice soft but the look in his eyes warned Ed not to cause problems.
Seconds passed as the two men held a silent staring match between them. Ed must've thought he won some kind of victory because he then smirked. He then had the nerve to order Shane to take out the log himself. "Go on. Pull the thing out."
Wanting to avoid conflict, Ed's wife, Carol, stood up from her chair and threw out the log herself, all while her husband threw her a dirty look. She silently returned to her seat, pretending to not see her husband's expression. Sitting beside her mother, Sofia Peletier silently stared at the floor, trying to make herself look as small as possible.
Shane shook his head at the display. "Christ" he muttered, hating the dynamic of the Peletier family. In the weeks spent keeping the camp in working order, Shane had come to understand that Ed was an abusive and lazy piece of shit. The man did absolutely nothing to help out around camp, other than the occasional lookout job on the RV and he only did that because Shane forced it on him. Ed would spend most of his time smoking his cigarettes or criticising others in the camp on how to do their job. When not doing that, he was verbally abusing his wife and daughter with insults. Shane suspected Ed physically abused them in the past, but he had no proof other than a strong hunch. He arrested enough abusers from his past as a deputy to be able to recognise their victims. Since setting up camp, he never once witnessed Ed get physical with either Carol or Sofia. Probably because he knew if he did, Shane would beat the ever-living shit out of him.
The log Carol threw out was still lit so Shane stomped on it to put it out. The last thing they needed was to start a wildfire at the quarry they were hiding at. Once it was out, he crouched down to speak with Carol and Sofia. His voice lacked the edge when he spoke with Ed, now soft and serene. "Hey, Carol, Sofia, how are y'all this evening?"
"Fine. We're just fine" answered Carol, sounding like she wanted the conversation to be done and over with. Shane could guess it was because Ed was throwing a dirty look at her. Sofia never once made eye contact, not that it surprised Shane. She always came off shy whenever he saw her but he suspected the source of her shyness was her abusive father.
"Okay" nodded Shane. As much as he wanted to help them, he couldn't do anything unless they asked.
"I'm sorry about the fire" Carol apologized. She might as well apologize since there was no way Ed would and she didn't want there to be tension between her family and the rest of camp. She also appreciated Shane's concern for herself and Sofia.
"No, no, no. No apology needed." Shane wouldn't accept an apology from Carol since it wasn't her fault her husband was an ass.
Carol gave her thanks while Sofia stayed staring at the floor.
Standing back up and offering the two a friendly smile, Shane walked back to his group but not before he made one last snide remark to Ed. "I appreciate your cooperation."
Everybody had silently watched Shane confront Ed and nobody spoke until Shane returned to his previous spot by the fire, all while letting out a frustrated sigh.
Once Shane returned, Dale made a show of looking around the campsite. "Doesn't look like our missing pilot returned yet. I wonder where he disappeared off to."
"Hell if I know. Looked away for one second and the man just upped and disappeared" mentioned T-Dog, taking a look around. Even with the three fires, it was hard to see anything through the darkness.
"He couldn't have gone far. Not without that at least. I sure wouldn't leave that beast behind." The beast Glenn was referring to was of course the vertibird that was parked in the middle of the campsite. It was locked up good and tight, despite the attempts made by some in the camp who tried to open it. He didn't like how quick some were to try to break into Six's aircraft, especially after the man saved their lives. The main perpetrators were those in the camp Glenn didn't know by name as they liked to keep to themselves. It wasn't until they talked about using tools to try and pry open the door did Shane wave his shotgun around and scare them off back to their tents.
"What's his deal anyway?" asked Andrea. She was huddled up beside her sister, Amy, to try and keep each other warm. "I mean, he calls himself Courier Six. What's up with that?" Her question was directed at Rick since he knew him or at least had some kind of history with the mysterious stranger. The others turned to Rick, all curious to know the origins of the man who saved their group in Atlanta.
Seeing as he wasn't going to get away without an explanation, Rick offered them one. "Where to begin…" he started, settling himself to try and get a bit more comfortable. Hard to do when he's sitting on the hard ground but at least he didn't have a bullet wound agitating him anymore. "I met him soon after Morgan found me, sometime after midnight. He flew into the neighbourhood we were hiding in, in that behemoth," explained Rick while pointing a finger at the parked vertibird. "Parked it right in the middle of the street."
"Weren't there freaks around?" asked Glenn. He learned from experience that neighbourhoods often had a sizable number of undead roaming around. The more houses, the more likely there to be walkers.
"Oh, there were plenty of walkers. Over two dozen of 'em. A good thirty I'd wager" answered Rick who was starting to chuckle. This was the part he knew the others would struggle to believe. "But that didn't matter to him."
"Didn't matter to him?" repeated Dale, sharing sceptical looks with some of the others around the firepit. "I wish I had that kind of confidence when facing such odds" he joked to lighten the atmosphere.
From Rick's lap, Carl listened to his father's story intently. "Did he kill them all?"
Carl's casual question referring to death lessened Rick's good cheer somewhat but he managed to keep his smile, for his son's sake. "He didn't have to. He got his big bad robots to put them down for him."
A moment of silence passed between the group listening to Rick's tale. Then quiet laughter started to spread, them all making sure not to be too loud.
"Robots? Seriously?" Andrea's voice was filled with derision.
Amy slapped her sister's shoulder. "Andrea, be nice" she scolded, though she didn't seem to believe Rick either.
Shane chuckled from across Rick. "I think you're confusing a coma dream with reality there, bud."
Even Lori sighed in embarrassment while patting him on the chest, thinking her husband was joking.
All the while, Rick took the ribbing in good humour, knowing he would get the last laugh. "Laugh all you want but they're real. I should know, they nearly shot me."
The good humour faded the moment Rick mentioned he was nearly shot. "He shot at you?" Shane asked, now all serious.
"Are you alright?" Lori sat up and started patting her husband down in search of any hidden bullet wounds. Rick simply laughed and grabbed a hold of her hands to stop her.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I said they nearly shot me. It was an accident anyway. The robots shot at the walkers and I happened to be hiding in the house behind them. Six didn't even know I was there."
"What were the robots like?" Carl asked with the eagerness that only a child like him could display. Among everyone, only Carl believed his father.
Smiling down at his son, Rick looked up to make a show of thinking hard. "Let's see... Six called them securitrons. They're big, bulky and have TV screens for faces. They can also turn their hands into guns."
"So cool" whispered a grinning Carl.
"So cool" whispered Glenn in agreement. He tried to picture what the securitrons looked like but a playful nudge from T-Dog broke him out of his thoughts.
Lori stared at her husband with visible concern. "Honey, you're starting to scare me."
Rick laughed off her concern, pulled her to him and kissed her right temple. "I know it sounds mad-"
"Sounds mad?" interrupted a smirking Andrea who silently yelped when Amy gently slapped her across the back of her head.
"But they are real. I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen them myself."
"Seen what?"
"Shit!" T-Dog and Glenn fell off the log they were sharing when Six revealed himself right behind them. "Where the hell did you come from?" T-Dog loudly whispered, turning to look up at Six who was standing right behind them.
"From the woods" Six casually remarked, pointing a thumb at the layer of trees behind him.
Calming down from Six's surprise reappearance, Rick smiled up at the man. It felt almost strange to see him without his armour and the helmet with the glowing red eyes. "Hey, Six. Why did you wander off?"
Courier Six moved and crouched in the gap between Glenn and Rick. "I had to call Morgan to give him an update on the situation. Told him we wouldn't be back till tomorrow. He also wanted me to tell you that he was happy to hear you found your family and that he's looking forward to meeting them in person when you get to Big MT."
Nobody brought up how he had been gone for nearly three hours to make a single call.
Rick's smile grew as his arm tightened around his wife's shoulder while his other hand played with his son's hair. "Sounds like Morgan alright."
Lori hadn't been the only one around the campfire to catch the Courier mention going to someplace called Big MT. "What's this about? Are we going somewhere?" she asked, looking at Six and then at her husband.
Nodding to Lori, Rick gestured to Six with his right hand. "That's right. Six here has offered to take us to his home. It's a science facility. He's even got scientists there working on a vaccine for this whole mess."
"A va-!?" A bug-eyed Andrea caught herself before she could shout her words.
Everyone leaned closer, many looking desperate for some good news. Dale leaned closer. "How close are these scientists to a vaccine?" he asked, voice betraying his eagerness.
"The Think Tank only started their work recently but the results are promising. They're confident they'll find a vaccine."
While not as good news as they hoped, it was still better than nothing. Unfortunately, Shane was the one to ruin it by asking a specific question. "You said they were working on a vaccine. Why not a cure?" he asked, expression serious.
Six answered truthfully. "Because a cure is impossible. The best we can hope for is a vaccine to help quell any further spread of the virus."
A confused Glenn looked around at the others before he turned back to Six. "But what about the infected? All the people walking around the city?"
The young Korean was shown a quirked brow from Six. "What about them? You can't cure the dead. That's all they are, dead."
A silence grew around the campfire as everyone grasped what Courier Six was telling them. A frowning T-Dog was the one to ask the question circling everyone's thoughts. "So what you're saying is that life can't go back to normal for us?"
"I'm afraid not. Get used to seeing corpses walking around 'cause they're here to stay."
Looks were shared among people surrounding the campfire, expressions varied between despair, anger and expressionless. Shane was the latter, simply staring at the fire in front of him while he clenched his fists together in quiet frustration.
After a moment of silence passed them by, Andrea looked up to meet the Courier's eyes. "Who are you? You must be with the military or government."
Knowing the question was coming, Six went ahead and gave the group the bad news. "I run the science facility, Big MT, to make sure it stays in working order. Big MT has no affiliation with any government and it wouldn't matter if it did. There is no more government or military."
Shane gave the group no chance to process Six's words since he refused to believe them. "You're bullshitting. They can't be gone." Even if he didn't agree with what they did during the early stages of the virus infestation, no way would the U.S. military or government fall. They had the greatest army in the world, how could they possibly be gone?
Standing up and spreading his arms out, Courier Six asked Shane the obvious question. "Where are they then? Cause they sure as shit ain't here." He dropped his arms. "You can choose to believe me or not, I don't rightly care. The result stays the same. They are gone and you are on your own."
Six watched as those around the campfire grasped the heartbreaking information. That they were on their own with no aid coming from either the government or the military. Rick showed no reaction, having already known, but he pulled his distraught wife and son closer to him to offer them some comfort. Andrea looked to be on the verge of having a breakdown, but Amy wrapping her arms around her helped to calm her. Dale silently looked down at the water in his mug, frowning heavily. Glenn closed his eyes and lowered his head in defeat. A frustrated-looking T-Dog rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt at keeping them dry.
As for Shane, he scowled as he came to terms that his country was truly gone. "Big MT." All eyes turned to Shane who was now looking at Courier Six. "A science facility, right? Is it safe?"
The Courier looked up at the stormy clouds hovering over their heads. "Is anywhere truly safe in this world?" he pondered before returning his gaze to Shane. "Big MT has food, water and big thick walls to keep out the walkers if that's what you're referring to."
Shane tilted his head. "And there are other survivors there? You said there are scientists but are there others? Soldiers?"
"Other than Morgan and his son, who I just brought in today, no. I've got securitrons and other robots to keep the facility safe from any unwanted intruders."
Shane shook his head in annoyance over the topic of robots being brought up again. "Robots, yeah right..." he muttered. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, he turned back to Six and asked the million-dollar question. "Rick says you promised to take him and his family to Big MT. Does that offer extend to the rest of us?"
Frowning, Six rubbed his growing stubble, ignoring how the others were now watching him closely. He didn't have to check to know they were desperate for salvation, especially now that they knew there was no government coming to help them. With that knowledge, some like Shane must have figured their current location wasn't suitable.
As a short-term solution, making camp at the quarry had been a good idea. There was a pond to use as a source of water and for fishing, and a forest to hunt and forage for food. Said forest was also thick enough to act as a natural deterrent against walkers. With the cliff to their backs, no walkers can sneak up on them from behind.
However, the camp wasn't a permanent solution. When Six ventured off into the woods to call Morgan, he also took the time to secretly study the group of survivors from a distance and to check the campsite's defences, not that there were any to find. It was a further reminder that these people weren't wastelanders because no respecting wastelander worth their salt would make camp in hostile territory without setting up some kind of countermeasures. The campsite wasn't surrounded by any walls or spikes, nor were there any pitfalls or trenches dug. Hell, they didn't even have any empty tin cans tied to a string to act as an early warning system. This group was far too reliant on having one lookout on the RV and for the forest to keep back any wandering walkers. As thick as the forest was, it would not stop a herd of walkers from getting into the camp.
Six didn't blame the group for their lack of survival skills. It was understandable, seeing as they were civilians from a pre-apocalypse era. Survival skills can be taught. He was more concerned about the group's most obvious flaw.
The camp was in no way united.
That was obvious just by watching how everyone interacted with one another. Sure, they worked together to complete small tasks like cooking and cleaning but when not working, everyone strayed to their selective social groups. This camp was less a united front and more like four smaller groups forcefully joined together because of circumstances. He could already picture the chaos that would erupt if walkers or violent survivors were to attack the camp.
Courier Six studied each individual sitting around the fire as he contemplated the idea of bringing the whole camp back to Big MT. It wasn't that he was against it. He always did like to offer a hand to those needing it and these people clearly needed help. And despite the robots in his possession, he needed more manpower if he wanted to complete his desired goals.
Like rebuilding civilization.
"I guess that depends on all of you," Six said, as he met Shane's eyes. It was clear this man was the leader, or at least the person keeping some semblance of order to this camp. He'd give the man credit for keeping everyone in line, even with the lack of defences set up around camp.
"What do you mean by that?" asked a curious Dale.
"I mean that if I were to bring you all back to Big MT, there are going to be ground rules."
Shane already knew he wasn't gonna like these rules. "Such as…?".
Six pointed his left thumb into his chest. "For starters, I'm in charge."
A chuckle escaped the lips of both an amused and mildly annoyed Shane. "So it's gonna be like that, huh? I run the camp for two months with no issues, only for some shitheel to show up and take over, huh?"
The Courier shrugged his shoulders. "Pretty much, yeah."
Noticing the tension building up in Shane, Lori intervened. "Why can't we run this group like a democracy? Everyone gets a vote."
"Because democracies require groups of people to agree with one another. And that's the problem. Groups of people can't agree with one another. A single person can be smart, but a single group will always be as smart as its dumbest member." That was why Courier Six couldn't go along with the NCR. Just like the pre-war government they based themselves on, the NCR was encased with problems. High taxes, over-expansion, corrupt brahmin barons, and worst of all, bureaucracy. With their manpower and weaponry, the NCR realistically should have been able to wipe out Caesar's Legion instead of getting stuck in an even match against them. The very politics they proudly preached about limited their potential.
T-Dog made eye contact with Glenn beside him and shrugged his shoulders. "Guy's got a point." He never paid much attention to politics but he always thought the American government would get a lot more done if the two political parties weren't constantly squabbling with each other. Basically, he thought the U.S. government consisted of two groups of people who couldn't agree with each other, all while they tried to one-up the other.
"Secondly, I will teach you all the necessary skills to survive in this new environment. If you wish to live long enough to see another year, you're going to need to learn how to survive."
A frowning Andrea looked around the camp. "We seem to be doing alright for folk with no survival skills."
"I mean… I wouldn't say that." Everyone turned to Glenn who voiced his thoughts. "Sure, we get some stuff from scavenging but that won't last forever. And if it wasn't for the Dixons hunting meat for us, we'd only have fish and berries to eat."
"The Dixons?" asked an interested Six. He wasn't aware they had any actual hunters among the group. Not once in his study of the camp did he hear any of the survivors mention anyone by the name 'Dixon'.
"Pair of brothers. Great hunters. You actually brought back the eldest with you, Merle. They hunt whatever they can find in the woods. Deer, boar, squirrels. They're… not very sociable," Dale explained, though it was obvious he was trying to avoid saying anything negative about them.
Andrea didn't hold the same obligation. "What Dale means to say is that they're racist hillbilly rednecks."
Six hummed whilst trying to pinpoint who among the group he saved from the rooftop could've been Merle. After eliminating those who were sitting by the fire, he recalled a burly man with shaved hair who spoke with an accent. He mostly kept quiet throughout the trip, only opening his mouth to make an obnoxious comment. He had also shown signs of minor drug use.
Shane brought the topic back on course. "Forget the Dixons, we're talking about some stranger showing up out of the blue and demanding we just hand him the reins to our group."
Andrea nodded, siding with Shane. "I don't like it either. Not one bit."
"This stranger isn't demanding anything. He is simply stating that anyone who wishes to return with him to Big MT would have accepted his conditions without complaint. Those who disagree are free to stay here or move on elsewhere. The stranger isn't forcing them to come with him." Courier Six wasn't gonna force anyone to come back to Big MT with him if they didn't want to, especially those who didn't appreciate the offer he was giving them. They were free to take their chances out there in the big bad world if they wanted to. He was offering them the best chance they had to survive this world and all he wanted in return was their compliance which he didn't think was too much to ask. He didn't want to bring any unappreciative or unruly people back to Big MT anyway. Too many of those would only lead to future problems he didn't want to deal with, mainly because they would only be solved with a bullet in some selective skulls.
Dale looked up at Six with a disapproving frown. "Would you really leave people behind just because they won't follow your orders?"
"Yes. You lot are too inexperienced and it shows. I'd be surprised if you lasted longer than half a year at this current rate. If the undead don't get you, other survivors will."
Glenn blinked in confusion. "Why would other survivors want to get us?"
"What do you think other people will do once they run out of their last can of beans?" Six asked. He already gave the same warning to Rick but it seemed like Shane understood what he was getting at. "Desperation to feed yourself and your family can make a person do very bad things."
By the wary expressions now growing on their faces, the group was starting to understand that there were greater threats than walkers out there.
"There were bad people even before society collapsed," said Shane, rubbing the back of his head. "Thieves, murderers, rapists. With no law or order anymore, those people will take advantage of the chaos.
Dale's frown never once lessened. "That doesn't mean we become as bad as them by leaving others behind. To give up our humanity!"
Six shrugged uncaringly. "I gave you my conditions." Covering his mouth to hide a yawn, he then said "You can spread the word to others around camp and sleep on it. Just remember that if you decide to come with me, you accept that I'm the boss." With his piece said, Six walked off to the vertibird where he planned to sleep.
When Six left, everyone either looked at each other in silence or stared off into the distance, all while thinking hard about Courier Six's offer.
Morning came and Six awoke an hour before most of the camp did. He leaned against his vertibird, arms crossed and watched the group of survivors perform their morning rituals. One man was already on top of the RV with a hunting rifle, keeping an eye out for any threats. Below him, two men, one of whom was the disagreeable old man from last night, were doing maintenance on the vehicle. All the women were cleaning and ironing clothes, all while gossiping with each other. He didn't miss how they would glance in his direction every so often. They were probably talking about his offer.
All morning, people had been coming up to him either on their own or in small groups. They asked questions, about Big MT, the Think Tank, the vaccine, and what he would expect from them if they agreed to follow him. He answered as truthfully as he could without mentioning anything compromising, such as him being from an alternate universe. Some people were still on the fence, either because they didn't want to believe the government was truly gone or because they didn't trust him enough to be their leader. Understandable reasons to be fair. Others had been far more accepting of his terms and had already agreed to them, such as Glenn, Jacqui and T-Dog.
He took a bite of his brahmin jerky and chewed the tough beef. He had yet to spot Rick, despite his wife helping the other women with cleaning clothes, and his son running around with the other children of the camp.
Someone walked up to him so Six turned his attention to the newcomer. He didn't know the man's name but he did recognize him from the group he picked up from the rooftop. Another person who wanted to ask questions. "Morning…?"
"Juan Morales. You can call me one or the other, I don't mind which."
"Morales then. Sleep well?"
"As well as I can these days," Morales admitted. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since people first started coming back from the dead. "What about you? I can't imagine this would be comfy to sleep in." He banged his knuckles against the thick hull of the vertibird Six was leaning on.
"You'd be surprised. Chairs have a lot of padding. It's better to have a pilot who's comfortable rather than uncomfortable."
Morales could see the sense in that. "Fair enough." A minute of awkward silence passed between the two men as they watched the rest of the camp perform their morning tasks.
"You've got questions." It was spoken as a fact instead of a question. "Ask away. You're not the first to do so," chuckled Six before taking another bite of his jerky.
Taking a second to eye the jerky in Six's hands, Morales then met his eyes. "Look, I've got no problems taking orders. You seem to know what you're doing, more than the rest of us anyway. But is Big MT safe? I've got a family to watch out for and I want what's best for them."
When Morales looked away, Six followed his gaze, which landed on a brown-skinned woman who was keeping close to her two children. He turned back to Morales. "You want the truth?"
Swallowing, Morales reluctantly nodded. "I do."
"I can't promise your family's safety. That's a hard promise to make when there could be hundreds of millions of walkers roaming the entire country. That's not even taking into account bloodthirsty survivors." He allowed half a minute to pass in silence so Morales could understand how dangerous the world had become. "But there are some things I can promise you. I promise your family won't ever go to sleep cold or hungry. Every day, they will wake up with thick walls of steel and concrete between them and any outside threats. Most importantly, I can promise to give your family the chance to survive. That is what I can promise you, Morales."
From Morales's expression alone, Six could tell he was ready to swear absolute allegiance to him right then and there. He didn't blame him. Morales was a father who was looking out for his family. Hearing what Six was offering for them probably sounded like a dream come true, especially when compared to sleeping outside in tents and foraging for food in the woods. Six held up a hand to silence Morales before he could speak.
"Speak with your wife. Tell her what I told you and once you've discussed everything with her, come back to me with your answer."
Morales licked his now dry lips. "Right… You're right. Miranda wouldn't like me making such a big decision without her."
"I've heard a happy wife makes a happy life."
Morales laughed. "Ain't that the truth."
By that point, Six spotted a now awake Rick making his way over towards them. "Speaking of, look who's finally awake. And what's this?" He made a show of looking Rick up and down. "Aren't you looking bushy-tailed this morning? If I didn't know better, I'd say you got laid last night."
As he tried to fight it, Rick couldn't prevent the goofy smile from stretching across his lips. "Come off it" he replied, good naturally.
"Hey, if I got laid after two months of blue balls, I'd be looking pretty happy as well" Six joked, earning a guffaw from Morales and a middle finger from Rick. "So, how did the missus take to going to Big MT?"
"Lori's sceptical about it all, especially about naming you our leader. I can understand her point, though. Nobody here knows you and you're already taking over as leader."
Six offered a shrug. "I'm not holding them at gunpoint. It's their choice if they want to follow us back to Big MT or not."
"You're not giving everyone much of a choice," mentioned Morales with a slight frown.
"I know it might seem cruel but you've got to remember that the rules have changed. If it's not walkers trying to kill you, it'll be other survivors wanting to kill you so they can take your stuff. From what I've seen, none of you are truly prepared for this new world. With my guidance, that will hopefully change."
Rick folded his arms and hummed. He could tell Six wasn't going to change his mind. "Do you have a plan for when we reach Big MT?"
"I would spend the first day or two showing everyone around, give them time to rest up and tell them the rules. After that, I'll start assigning jobs for everyone to do. If not doing jobs or resting, they'll be trained on how to fight, with and without guns."
Morales glanced at his children who were playing with Rick's son and Carol's daughter. "Even the children?"
"Especially the children. But, we can start them off lightly. I'll give them BB guns at first to get them used to how to wield a weapon."
Hearing that helped to lighten the tightening in Morales's chest. As much as he didn't want his children anywhere near guns, he now knew that wasn't a possibility anymore. Last night, Glenn told Miranda and himself everything that the Courier explained to them, including how there was no more U.S. government or army. Now that he knew there wasn't any help coming, his children needed to know how to defend themselves. At least giving them BB guns will be safer and keep them from handling a real firearm for a while.
Rick had a difference of opinion. "I think the children should be given proper firearms training sooner rather than later. As you said, it's a dangerous world out there. I prefer Carl to have some knowledge of how to use a gun. Just in case."
The Courier smirked and patted Rick on the shoulder. "We can get into all that once we get to Big MT. No point worrying about that now. "
"And when are we going to Big MT?" Morales asked, curious to know how long everyone had to make their decision before it was too late.
"Everybody has the day to think about my offer. By morning, I'll lead those who agreed to Big MT."
Having nothing wrong with that, the three men spent a few minutes discussing who had already agreed to go to Big MT and those who were still on the fence. They then watched as Shane drove back into camp in his Jeep Wrangler, having driven down to the pond earlier to fill up blue plastic barrels with water.
Rubbing his face while watching Shane and others carry the barrels out of the Jeep Wrangler, Rick addressed Six. "There's also something I've been hoping to run by you."
Swallowing the remains of his jerky, Six slapped his hands together to rid them of any grime. "Oh? What about?" He waved off Morales who went to check if Dale and Jim needed any help with the RV.
Now alone with Six, Rick felt a little more confident. "Remember that bag of guns I took with me?"
"Yeah?"
"Back in Atlanta, when I got swarmed by walkers, I dropped the bag."
Courier Six could see where this was going. "Shit. You want to go back and get them."
Rick nodded. "The world is dangerous, right? Well, we're going to need guns to combat those dangers. Unless you've got guns back at Big MT?"
"I do but don't expect me to be handing them out."
"Why not?"
"Look around, Rick." He gestured to the survivors around camp. "I only met these people yesterday. I don't know what kind of people they are. Some of them already don't like me because they think I'm some sort of dictator looking to take away their freedoms."
Okay, Rick couldn't fault him for that, though he didn't like how Six was hoarding guns when they desperately needed them. "So you won't help get the guns back?"
"I never said that." Rick's baffled expression amused Six. "I'm not going to hand you my guns but that bag of guns is yours. If you want to share them with the others then that's your choice. So, how many of us are you bringing along?"
"I've only brought it up with you and Lori so far."
"And how did she take it?" Rick only sighed. "That bad, huh?"
"She doesn't think we need those guns."
"And having her recently resurrected husband running off into a walker-infested city that he just barely escaped from probably had nothing to do with it," said Six with an amused grin.
Rick sighed again but was now smiling. "Yeah, that might have something to do with it as well," he said with a tilt to the head.
With no warning whatsoever, a female screech washed over the camp and it might as well have been a call for war. It took a second for it to register in everyone's minds but when it did, people moved. Several of the men ran to the source of the screech, grabbing anything on the way that could remotely be used as a weapon. Mothers shouted for their children.
Six had been the first to move, not even needing the second for the screech to register. He ran through the trees, Lucky unholstered and finger itching to pull the trigger. By the time the rest of the men caught up with him, he was standing in a clearing, staring at something.
That something was a walker who was in the middle of eating a deer.
As Six watched the walker take another bloody bite of the dead deer's neck, the others slowly surrounded it while it was still distracted. Among them, only Shane had a firearm, wielding a shotgun with an ease that told the Courier he was well-trained when it came to using guns.
Choosing to take a step back to watch and see how the group of civilians reacts to this threat, Six idly stared at the feasted deer carcass. It wasn't the first time he came across animal corpses that were feasted on by the undead. Cats, dogs, cows, etc. But for a reason that the Think Tank was looking forward to uncovering, the Wildfire Virus didn't change animals into walking corpses. He didn't understand why himself but was thankful there were no animal walkers. The last thing people needed were undead dogs and cats running around.
He then spotted the two arrows sticking out of the dead animal. "Somebody was hunting this deer."
At some point, others from the camp meandered to the outskirts of the clearing to see what was happening. Where the likes of Andrea and Amy watched from a safe distance away, Merle strutted over to stand by the Courier, taking everything in with a grin that was both amused and mocking.
The walker soon took notice of the humans who were now surrounding it. Slowly, it rose from its crouched position, mouth drenched with blood. It hissed and reached for the closest human which so happened to be Rick. With a glare, Rick swung his chosen weapon, a long metal pipe, and struck the walker in the face, making it recoil from the blow.
After that, the others joined in by hitting the walker with their weapons and Courier Six quickly bore witness to the worst and most embarrassing display of fighting he had ever seen.
The walker collapsed to the floor after a couple of blows before it was beset by its attackers. The group of men hit the walker anywhere they could reach. Its arms, legs, spine, even its pelvis.
And yet, not one of them thought to aim for its skull. In fact, they seemed to be trying their damndest to not hit the walker's greatest weakness.
Six covered his face with his hand and shook his head at the display. He refused to believe that nobody here hadn't killed a walker in the past two months. He was particularly disappointed in Rick who had been taught by Morgan just yesterday on how to kill walkers. "Oh, I've got so much work to do," he muttered into his palm. If this was them dealing with one walker, he didn't ever want to see them fighting a group of the undead. It would surely end in a bloodbath.
The eldest Dixon shared Six's chagrin but where the Courier felt disappointment and embarrassment, Merle found the sight of a group of men exhausting themselves by beating on one freak to be hilarious. "Yeah, you got 'em where you want 'em, fellas! Whoo! Show that walker who's boss!" Laughter mixed in with Merle's cheers.
Watching this was like torture for Six but thankfully, it came to an eventual end. Dale brought his axe down on the walker's neck, severing the head from the rest of its body, which then stilled.
Once the walker was finally dead, the sweaty and exhausted men took a breather. The sound of clapping had them turn to the source. Merle stood beside an unimpressed Six, sarcastically clapping with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Well done, boys. Masterful work. You really impressed our friend here with that five-star performance."
"Shut up, Dixon" spat a sweaty Shane but his words only made Merle's grin grow.
A panting Dale ignored Merle and stared at the decapitated corpse in disbelief. "They never come out this far."
"They're running out of food in the city" stated Jim, eyes empty as he stared at the corpse.
Six wasn't sure if he agreed with the mechanic. On one hand, walkers were walking corpses with limited brain activity, granting them sight, smell and hearing but also a bestial instinct that makes them dumber than animals. At least animals can think and strategize if needed, unlike walkers. They only chase what they can physically see, hear and smell.
On the other hand, there might be more to walkers than one might think. Rick told him the story about the strange behaviour Morgan's undead wife had displayed. Particularly, ignoring the noise from a car alarm which attracted every other walker in the vicinity. That alone was strange beyond measure, but then that hadn't been the end of her odd behaviour. Rick mentioned that whilst ignoring the car alarm, she had climbed up to the porch of the house her son and husband were hiding in, like she remembered they were there, and tried to open the door, something that walkers shouldn't be capable of.
When reporting this new knowledge to the Think Tank through the radio, Six knew from the endless chatter that it brought a new wave of excitement to the scientists. Only they would find the Wildfire Virus to be some great mystery for them to solve.
The rustling of nearby foliage had everyone tense up, fearing more walkers.
One of Six's hands reached into his duster, grasping the handle of a throwing axe. He was NOT going to watch any more unnecessary walker beatdowns.
Thankfully, there wasn't going to be one. Instead of a walker, a short-haired man in a sleeveless vest stepped out of the foliage, only stopping when he saw Shane aiming his shotgun at him and the others brandishing their weapons. Once everyone saw it wasn't a walker, they lowered their weapons.
"Welcome home, little brother," said Merle, spreading his arms out as if he was expecting a hug. "Are you enjoying this lovely reception we've set up for you?" He was, of course, referring to how multiple men had weapons out when returning to camp.
"Ah, so this is the other Dixon brother, Daryl," thought Six, finally taking his hand out of his duster. He eyed Daryl up and down, noting everything about him, such as how his clothing was both dirtied and coloured brown, making it easier to blend in with his surroundings. Said clothing was also practical, providing the wearer with easy movement, unlike the jeans and tight jackets they'd seen the survivors in camp wear. There was dirt under the man's nails and some on his arms, telling him that Daryl wasn't afraid of getting dirty. But then there were his eyes. Just as Six had eyed Daryl, the younger Dixon had been eying everyone else, showing clear distrust to everyone who wasn't Merle. Then his eyes landed on the deer carcass and those surprisingly perceptive eyes were suddenly filled with rage.
"Son of a bitch!" exclaimed Daryl Dixon as he stormed to the centre of the clearing where the dead deer and walker rested. "That's my deer! Look at it, gnawed on by this… Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" Every description was followed with the agitated Daryl kicking the headless corpse.
Every insult and kick to the dead walker only made Six's smile grow ever larger. He was coming to a startling realisation.
"Calm down, son. That's not helping." As always, Dale tried to keep everyone calm. However, Daryl wasn't someone so easily placated.
The agitated Daryl stepped up to Dale. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?"
He then sighed and pulled his arrows out of the deer's carcass. "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?" he asked, pointing to the open hole on the deer's neck that the walker made when eating it.
"I would not risk that," answered Shane and his opinion was shared by the others, even Merle.
"That's a damn shame" sighed Daryl in disappointment. "I've got some squirrel… About a dozen or so. That'll have to do," he said, showing off the little critters he had tied up and slung over his shoulder with rope.
Just as everyone was about to return to camp, the walker's decapitated head suddenly sprung to life, snapping its mouth as if trying to take a bite out of something.
The sight made Amy's skin turn green. "Oh, God" she muttered before Andrea led her away.
Daryl and Merle were unimpressed. "Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl aimed his crossbow and fired a bolt into the snapping head. Six didn't miss how the bolt shot perfectly into the left eye socket. Daryl then stepped on the now dead head so he could pull the bolt out. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"
He then walked over to a smugly grinning Merle who wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Not bad, little brother. You gonna cook us up some squirrel stew, are ya?"
"I ain't your maid" spat Daryl who then noticed the new face among the group of survivors. "Who's this?"
Merle interrupted before Six could speak. He waved at Six flamboyantly with his other arm. "Our saviour~" Merle sang before he led his brother back to camp. "Come on, I'll tell ya what you missed out."
They watched as the Dixons wandered back to camp. Once they were out of hearing range, a grinning Six turned to the others. "I like them."
Dale shook his head in bemusement. "You'd be the first."
They didn't understand. How could they? They were civilians who never struggled to survive. But those two, the Dixons, were survivors. Competent. The closest thing to wastelanders he's seen so far. He would need to speak with them.
Now that everything has calmed, they made their way back to camp at a leisurely pace but most now kept a close eye on the treeline. Having a walker show up so close to camp shook many in the camp. It all but confirmed that their camp wasn't as safe as they thought it was.
Rick and Shane were walking side-by-side before Six appeared on the other side of Rick. "So, you gonna tell him about your little plan?" he asked, nodding at Shane who looked at the two of them in confusion.
"What plan?"
"We need to go back to Atlanta."
"I can't believe this." They were back at camp so Shane could stop and stare at Rick like he was a madman. "You want to go back to Atlanta after you nearly got yourself killed, am I hearing you right?" he asked, tone a mix of anger and disbelief. He pointed a finger deeper into camp. "And what of Lori and Carl? Who's going to protect them while you're gone?"
"It's because I want to protect them that we need to go back to Atlanta!" exclaimed Rick. "Before I left for Atlanta, I cleared out the station's armoury."
The mention of guns worked to calm Shane's temper. He now looked interested. "Guns?"
"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns."
"Ammo?"
"700 rounds, assorted."
Shane's sudden silence was telling enough to know he wasn't so against the plan anymore. Not when it could get them guns they so desperately need. He turned to Six who had his arms crossed. "Don't you have guns back at Big MT?"
"I do. Like I told Rick, I'm not going to be handing them out to you all." He raised a hand to silence Shane because he knew a loud retort was coming. "It's not for debate. Earn my trust and I might let you play with guns that have some real stopping power."
A scowl made its way on Shane's face but his retort died on his tongue.
"To hell with the guns!" The three men looked over at a frustrated Lori who marched up to them with a visibly upset Carl beside her. "You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"
"I don't want you to go, dad," said Carl, lips quivering at the thought of his dad running off and possibly dying after he just came back.
Six spoke for Rick and slapped him on the back. "Don't worry about him, kiddo. I'll bring your dad back, safe and sound. Promise" he said, voice filled with enough assurance to make Carl smile slightly. It didn't have the same effect on Lori who glowered at her husband.
Rick attempted to comfort Lori, rubbing her arms while gently whispering his reasons into her ear. It didn't have the desired effect he wanted since Lori removed herself from her husband's embrace. She grabbed Carl by his shoulder and guided him away, leaving Rick to sigh tiredly.
Six offered his professional advice. "Women, am I right?"
That did put a smile on Rick's and even Shane cracked a smirk. They quickly returned to business. "Are we taking the heli?" Rick asked, eying the vertibird. It would be the fastest way to get to Atlanta. To his disappointment, Six shook his head.
"Too loud. By the time I land, we'd be swimming in a sea of the undead. Can't even land on street level even if I wanted to. Every road I saw was blocked with abandoned vehicles and rubble."
While not desirable, neither Rick nor Shane could fault Courier Six's logic. "Driving it is then" muttered Shane, rubbing the back of his head in slight annoyance. "Is it just the two of you then?"
"There's one other person I want to bring with us," said Rick. The three of them hadn't exactly been hiding their conversation. Others around the camp had been lingering nearby, listening in as they discussed their plan to retrieve their guns. So when Rick turned his gaze to Glenn, he knew exactly what the sheriff wanted.
"No way." Glenn rejected the silent plea but his protest came out weak. He always found it difficult to say no when someone needed help.
"You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself" Rick said, imploring for Glenn's aid. "It's not fair for me to ask but I'd feel a lot better with you along, I know Lori would too."
Glenn took off his red baseball cap and rubbed the top of his head, but he nodded. "Fine."
"Thank you." Rick felt a lot better with Glenn coming with them.
"Just the three of you then?" asked Shane.
Six answered. "It's enough. We're just getting the bag, in and out. Shouldn't take more than a few hours."
"He's right" agreed Rick, hands on his hips. "We will head out now, get the bag and come back in time for dinner."
"I'll hold you to that," said Shane, pointing a warning finger at his best friend, good naturally.
They stayed in camp for another half an hour so Rick and Glenn could gather what they needed for the trip. Shane provided Rick with what bullets they had for his Colt Python, though it wasn't much. Once they had everything, the three climbed into the white 1986 Dodge Ram Wagon that T-Dog was loaning to them and drove off, heading for Atlanta once more.
Author's Note:
Six doesn't know what drug Merle was on, only that it was a 'minor' dose. Cocaine wouldn't be classed as minor, but compared to the drug users Six encountered, especially the Fiends, Merle doing some Cocaine was nothing in comparison.
Yes, Big MT has an armoury but Six isn't just gonna let the group of strangers just walk on in and take anything they want at any time. He has no problem with them having guns of their own, but he isn't keen on sharing energy weapons, miniguns and all the other deadly treasures he collected over the years. Once he believes they can be trusted, then maybe he can share a laser rifle or two.