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_____
Chapter 2
Rick ran.
His lungs burned.
His legs screamed.
The world around him was a blur of blood and ash.
The dead were everywhere, crawling, shambling, sprinting with unnatural hunger.
Their groans filled the air like a choir of nightmares, closing in from all sides.
He tripped, fell hard into the mud, and rolled onto his back just in time to see a walker dive toward him, skin sloughing off its face, mouth wide open in a scream that sounded like his name.
Then, suddenly, it all stopped.
Silence.
Rick blinked and looked around, breath ragged.
He wasn't on the ground anymore.
He was standing… in front of his house.
The front lawn was green.
The sky was blue. And there, just ahead, stood two familiar figures.
Lori.
Carl.
Their backs were turned to him.
Rick's heart surged, and he nearly collapsed with relief.
"Lori!" he called out, voice cracking with emotion. "Carl!"
He ran to them, stumbling across the grass. "Thank God… I thought I lost you, I—"
He reached them, hands trembling as he grabbed Lori's shoulder to turn her around.
And that's when the world fell apart again.
Her face—no.
What was left of her face was slack, rotted, and black with decay. One eye was missing, and the other was filmed over and cloudy. Her jaw hung askew, and when she opened her mouth, words didn't come out; it was an inhumane growl.
Carl turned next.
His face was rotting, his eyes were missing.
Blood and bone and death.
Rick screamed.
The world screamed with him.
And the nightmare shattered.
He shot upright in bed, gasping, drenched in cold sweat.
His hand instinctively reached for a weapon that wasn't there.
It took a moment, several agonizing seconds, for his breathing to slow, for the terror to fade, for the pounding in his chest to come down enough to remember where he was.
Not outside.
Not surrounded.
It was surreal, and for a moment, he forgot where he was.
The bed beneath him wasn't a hospital mattress.
He sat up slowly, ribs still sore but not as sharp as yesterday. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he winced, ran a hand over his face, and pushed himself to his feet.
His shirt clung to him slightly, sweat from another restless night, but he ignored it.
A blanket had been tossed over him at some point during the night, and sunlight filtered softly through a boarded window.
Then came the smell, a very mouth-watering smell.
Bacon.
And the soft hum of voices.
Rick blinked, running a hand over his face.
The bed creaked as he swung his legs over the edge. His body still ached, but nothing compared to the ache in his chest after that dream.
He forced himself up and followed the sound.
The hallway was dim but warm, faint sunlight leaking in through boarded windows.
And from the kitchen ahead came the sounds of laughter, pans clinking, and the scent of sizzling food.
He stepped into the doorway and paused.
There they were.
The Jones family sat around the table, relaxed.
Duane was already digging into his plate.
Jenny was sipping coffee from a mug.
Morgan sat still, ever-watchful but at ease.
…and there was Leo, laughing at a joke he made.
The closer he got, the more real it all felt.
Jenny's voice floated to him first, gentle, teasing. Then Duane's laughter, light and boyish. Morgan rumbled something in response, and finally, came Leo's voice, animated and full of that ever-present smile.
Plates were already half-empty with scrambled eggs and bacon.
A battered pan sizzled on a small gas burner set up by the counter, and Leo stood over it, flipping another strip with casual precision.
The dragon mask was hanging off a hook by the window, forgotten for now.
The sight hit Rick like a punch to the gut. Not from pain, but from the sheer normalcy of it all.
Leo glanced up and smirked.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty! You're just in time for breakfast!" He flipped over a piece of bacon for emphasis
Jenny looked over from her seat and offered a soft, "Morning."
Duane echoed her shyly, still chewing.
Morgan, seated with his usual guarded posture, gave Rick a mute nod. Stoic, unreadable, but it wasn't cold, just careful.
Rick stepped into the room like he didn't quite believe it was real. "Smells like heaven."
Leo grinned. "Tastes better. Come on! Sit down."
He plated a helping of eggs and bacon and handed it over, gesturing to the empty chair beside Duane.
Rick accepted it slowly, still in a bit of a daze.
"You look like a walker," Leo said with a chuckle as he sat back down and started refilling mugs with water. "Eat before you start biting someone."
Rick gave a tired huff of amusement, easing into the chair with a grunt. He picked up a fork and eyed the food like it might vanish.
Morgan finally spoke, his tone firm but not unkind. "You're lucky you know. A simple breakfast like this? Out there, most folks would kill for it."
Rick looked up, meeting his eyes.
"I am," he said quietly. "I really am."
For a few minutes, no one said anything.
Just the soft clink of utensils, the warmth of a shared meal, and a moment of calm in a world gone mad.
The last crumbs of breakfast were gone, and with them, the fleeting peace that came with a full stomach.
Leo stood from the table with a stretch, his chair squeaking slightly as it slid back. He tossed the last of his tin cup's contents into the sink, then grabbed his jacket along with his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"I need to do a check around the area before we go, if that's alright with you?"
Rick nodded.
"Of course."
His dragon mask dangled from his belt like a sheathed weapon, ready, but not yet needed.
Rick followed suit, a little slower.
The stiffness in his ribs still lingered, but it was dulled now, muffled by the weight of purpose more than pain.
Leo glanced over his shoulder. "Ok?"
Rick nodded, standing and rolling his shoulder to work out the soreness. "Yeah."
They were halfway to the door when Morgan's voice cut through the room like a quiet knife.
"Leo."
Leo stopped.
Morgan stood now, arms folded, expression unreadable, but his eyes held a weight that settled the whole room.
He stepped forward and, for a moment, just looked at the boy.
Not a word.
Just that quiet, hard stare.
The kind a man gives someone he considers a son.
Finally, Morgan spoke, voice low and firm.
"Come back alive."
Leo blinked.
Then smiled, small, genuine, and a little sheepish.
"I always do."
Jenny stood behind Morgan now, holding a small cloth in her hands. She stepped forward, brushing a few crumbs off Leo's shoulder and smoothing down a wrinkle in his jacket with quiet fussiness.
"Be careful out there, sweetheart," she said gently. Then, without waiting for permission, she leaned in and planted a quick peck on his cheek.
Leo's smile cracked into a flustered grimace as his hand shot up to rub the spot. "Jeez, Jenny, c'mon! Not in front of the guests! It's embarrassing!"
Duane giggled behind her.
Jenny rolled her eyes fondly. "Don't be dramatic."
Leo muttered something about being uncool as he adjusted his jacket and pushed the door open with a small, exasperated sigh.
Rick trailed after him, glancing back only once, long enough to see Morgan watching them from the doorway and Jenny waving gently with a smile.
And the outside world swallowed them again.
____
The streets were quiet.
Nature was reclaiming everything, grass bursting through concrete, vines creeping up telephone poles, birds nesting in broken gutters.
But the silence wasn't peaceful.
It was thick, like the world was holding its breath.
Leo led them down the sidewalk, stepping around old glass, over forgotten toys, and rusted-out cars.
His gate was casual, as if he's done this many times before.
Rick kept his voice low. "Is this your usual patrol?"
"Sort of," Leo said. "We rotate routes, it keeps us from getting too predictable. Never take the same turn twice in the same week. Makes it harder to catch on."
Rick raised a brow.
Leo didn't say anything else.
He just kept walking, weaving through the skeletal remains of suburbia like he belonged there.
Rick followed him across a cracked intersection where weeds grew through the painted lines. The street signs were rusted, one bent nearly in half.
But Leo moved like he could navigate it in his sleep.
After another block, they stopped at a large, two-story house flanked by a collapsed fence and a pickup truck with metal plating bolted to its sides.
Leo gave a sharp whistle, two short bursts.
Within seconds, another whistle responded.
A tall figure in black stepped out from the bushes, dragon mask in place, rifle in his hands. Four more followed from the rooftops, standing at attention like sentinels. They didn't speak, but one of them gave a small nod after a moment of recognition.
"All clear?" Leo asked.
They nodded.
Leo opened the gate and gestured for Rick to follow.
Inside was a small group.
A woman stood in the corner stirring a pot over a stove. A boy and a girl, maybe ten, were checking canned goods on a shelf-lined pantry. An elderly man in a wheelchair was reading something under a battery-powered lamp.
Rick stared, surprised.
He turned to Leo. "You saved them, too?"
Leo shrugged. "They needed help. I had the means."
Rick watched as the boy talked to them, making sure they were alright and to see if they needed anything.
The second house was bigger, but more cramped.
A Mother held a baby in one arm while talking with three other women who looked like they hadn't slept in days. Six children, probably their children, were playing board games, unaware of the apocalypses just outside their home.
Five masked figures stood guard on the porch, all of them equally armed.
Rick watched them exchange nods with Leo, not a word between them, like soldiers reporting to their commander.
But Leo didn't bark orders, he just listened, nodded, gave a small smile, or cracked a joke, and moved on to check on the people his men were protecting.
House three had a couple in their twenties and two older women playing cards on a table. One of the women looked up and waved with a cheerful "Hey, boss!" before going back to her hands.
A fat dog barked lazily from the couch in greeting, much to Leo's amusement.
Another five guards
Rick kept quiet, taking it all in.
At the fourth, two young men worked on reinforcing the windows with scavenged sheet metal while a small group of other survivors organized food rations.
One of them patted Leo on the back as he passed, cheerfully saying something about a successful run, which got a quick nod from one of Leo's men in agreement.
There were also five of his men there.
By now, Rick's silence had shifted from skeptical to impressed.
Then they reached the last house.
It was a larger structure than the others, an old colonial-style place with solar panels rigged to the roof and a short fence lined with tin cans that jingled faintly in the breeze.
He looked around, eyes landing on the makeshift play area in the backyard: hula hoops, hand-carved toys, a chalkboard with crude drawings of dragons and superheroes.
Fifteen guards stood around the property, two on the porch, four on the roof, and the rest scattered at various lookout points.
"Why so many?" Rick asked as they approached the gate.
Leo didn't answer right away.
He gave the signal again, two short whistles.
The front door opened, and the answer stepped into view.
A woman peeked her head out, dressed as a nurse, along with a little girl with eyes wide and curious.
Behind her, more children began to appear, and some peeked through the boarded windows.
A whole crowd of them.
All quiet.
All watching.
And every one of them looked fed, dressed, and safe.
Rick froze in shock.
The door opened wider, and another figure in a dragon mask in a doctor's coat gave Leo a thumbs-up to show everything was ok.
Leo nodded while smiling at the children.
The doctor ducked inside, the nurse followed after him, and Leo turned to Rick, his tone casual.
"You got your answer? If not, then let little old me explain if you didn't get it~," he teased, getting a glare from Rick.
"It's an orphanage for all the children who don't have anyone to take care of them."
They stepped through the gate just as the children spilled onto the porch, some cautiously, some running up to Leo with big grins and loud voices.
"Leo!" a few of them cried out in excitement.
Leo knelt in the middle of the yard, instantly swarmed by kids tugging at his coat, hanging off his arms, and shouting over one another in chaotic glee.
One girl hugged his waist, another tried to climb on his back before a masked guard gently pulled him off.
Leo ruffled a few heads, knelt to tie a kid's loose shoelace, then stood again with a smirk.
"Lou said you'd bring more crayons!"
"You promised cookies!"
"My sock still has a hole!"
Leo laughed. "Wow! I risk life and limb for your snacks, and this is the gratitude I get?"
"You promised/You promised/You promised!"
He lifted his hands in mock surrender, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Alright, alright! Jeez, you guys shake me down harder than raiders!"
The kids laughed, gleefully unrelenting.
One of the older girls, who looked barely ten, stood defiantly with her arms crossed.
"You promised!"
"And I keep my promises," he said, giving her an exaggerated solemn nod while taking off the duffle bag slung over his shoulder. "And guess what? Today might just be your lucky day~!"
That got everyone's attention.
"Tada~!" he opened the bag and revealed the goodies.
Inside the duffle bag were packets of cookies, crayons, sketchbooks, a handful of small plushies, and even a couple of thick bags of candy.
The children gasped in unison, the kind of pure excitement that only came from being given something they hadn't dared to dream about.
"Get in line so I can hand out the goodies," Leo said with a grin. "And no fighting this time! Last time I had to confiscate a teddy bear like it was contraband."
A few of the older kids groaned in mock protest, while the younger ones giggled and quickly got in line, barely holding themselves back from rushing to the bag.
Rick watched with a soft smile as he watched the older boy handed out the items. He could tell just by looking that Leo cared about them deeply.
One boy clutched a chocolate bar to his chest like it was his greatest treasure. A little girl with pigtails whispered a shy thank you before darting off with a crayon set, and a toddler squealed with glee as a plush dinosaur was gently handed to him.
A soft voice piped up behind him.
"Leo, you said you were bringing back brownies."
He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. "Correction, I said I'dtry. Blame the apocalypse if I come back with granola instead."
The girl pouted and cutely stomped her foot. "Granola sucks."
Leo turned to Rick and gave a mock hurt look. "See the abuse I deal with?"
Rick just shook his head, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself.
"Alright, little missy~ Since I clearly failed to meet your high expectations, how bout for tonight's dinner, I force the chef to make your favorite meal, hmm?"
"Spaghetti with meatballs?!" She gasped, hopping up and down in excitement.
"Only the finest for you~"
He got a tight hug as a thank you before she went off to tell the other kids the good news.
Leo chuckled, watching her go.
After making sure his bag was empty, he stood up and looked over his shoulder.
"Most got separated from their parents, and some were taken by the walkers. Others… well, let's just say people get desperate when things fall apart."
The way he said that made it clear it was worse than he let on.
Rick swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "How many?"
"...Fifty-six."
Leo didn't look smug, he didn't look proud.
He just looked tired.
"I couldn't stand the idea of leaving them," he mumbled while waving them goodbye.
The little girl ran back to Leo and nervously tugged his sleeve.
"C-Can you draw with me later?"
He smiled down at her. "Of course, kiddo. You just gotta tell one of the guards and I'll be right there, alright?"
"Y-You promise?"
"Of course~"
She nodded with a shy smile, content, and skipped off.
The former cop looked between the two, he could tell they were close.
The older man let out a slow breath, his respect for the boy ever growing. "I've seen a lot of things, but this…"
"It's not perfect," Leo said quietly. "But it's something and better than nothing."
Rick looked out over the porch, the children laughing, playing, trading crayons like precious currency. His eyes met one of the masked guards, who gave him a silent look.
He could only nod back with respect.
Leo adjusted his coat and gave him a nudge. "C'mon, we got one more place to go before we head out."
They left the yard, the gate swinging shut behind them, tin cans clinking softly like a chime of protection.
They walked in silence for what was probably an hour before Rick couldn't hold back his questions anymore.
Rick spoke softly, "How long have they been here?"
Leo exhaled through his nose.
The smile lingered, but something quieter sat behind his eyes.
"Most of 'em since the first few months," He said while turning a corner. "Some were just… left behind. Parents ran, didn't make it, or didn't come back. Others were with groups that didn't last. One or two wandered into my territory alone."
Rick looked at his back. "And you took them in."
"They needed someone to take care of them. I had a roof, food, and more men than I knew what to do with, it would be pretty fucked up of me to just look away and do nothing."
He glanced back toward the direction of the house.
"Put a few of my guys on permanent guard duty, set up safe house for them, and made damn sure walker don't get so much as a mile near them… The kids are priority if things ever go bad."
Rick thought back to the orphanage.
The worn but clean clothes and the way they looked, clearly well-fed, as if they never skipped a single meal.
"How do you even manage this?" he asked.
Leo gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Same way I do everything else. I keep moving, and I don't stop until I make things better."
They walked a few more blocks until they reached a reinforced warehouse tucked between two collapsed buildings. A faded banner above the rusted garage door had once read "Ashfield Freight Co."
Now it was surrounded by watchtowers, fencing, and improvised walls made of scrap metal, concrete, and the bones of old vehicles.
Leo whistled once again in code.
A loud buzz rang out, and the metal doors slid open just enough to let them in.
Rick stepped through… and stopped cold.
Inside was a small army in motion.
A few were dressed differently, some with bandages wrapped around their arms, different jackets, or different uniforms altogether.
And yet every one of them wore the same mask.
There were at least fifty that Rick could count, and all of them were working.
Some hauled crates of supplies from trucks.
Others tinkered under the hoods of heavily armored vehicles, welding sparks flying like fireflies.
A team near the back was gathered around a disassembled helicopter, talking animatedly as one of them climbed onto the frame and muffledly shouted.
One passed by them with a clipboard and a stack of maps, another with an RPG casually slung over his shoulder gave Rick a casual two-finger salute as he walked past.
Rick turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
"What the hell…" he muttered.
Leo grinned.
"Welcome to home base. Organized chaos, but heavy on the chaos."
Rick blinked in disbelief. "These are all your men?"
"Yup~" Leo finished. "Give or take, some are out getting more loot."
These weren't just survivors.
They were a force.
He stepped up beside Leo, lowering his voice. "How do you have this many people following you?"
Leo didn't answer, he just gave that same cocky smile Rick was quickly starting to associat him with.
Instead of responding, Leo raised his hand and whistled sharply.
"Oi! You three! Get over here!"
Three men broke away from their tasks.
One wore a doctor's coat and carried a medpack, his steps crisp and efficient.
Another had a K9 by his side, a lean German Shepherd that stayed glued to his handler's heel.
The third was armed with a sniper rifle slung across his back.
Besides the mask, all three were also heavily armed with weapons.
They lined up before Leo without a word.
Leo motioned to them like a showman introducing his best act. "Rick, meet Doc, Hound, and Hawk. They're coming with us."
Rick frowned. "I don't need an escort, I just need to check on my house. I can go alone."
Leo cocked a brow. "Sure. And maybe while you're at it, you can try your luck with the walker swarm."
"I'm not helpless."
"I know," Leo said while grabbing a nearby pistol and cleaver before handing them to Rick, his voice calm but firm. "But I'm not asking."
Rick opened his mouth to protest again, but Leo stepped closer and poked him lightly in the chest.
"You are being helped," Leo said, eyes sparkling with mock seriousness. "Do not resist."
Rick exhaled sharply through his nose, half a sigh, "You're unbelievable."
"Why, thank you."
An armored SUV rolled to a stop near the front of the compound. Reinforced plating, grill guard, extra fuel cans lashed to the side.
Hound opened the back, and the dog hopped in like it was routine.
Leo climbed into the driver's seat, leaned out the window, and called, "Come on! Or are you still resisting my help?"
Rick looked around one last time, the busy base, the quietly nodding men, the ones up in the towers scanning the horizon with binoculars.
He still didn't know how Leo had pulled this off.
But for now?
He stepped into the car and shut the door behind him.
"…Let's go."
Leo grinned. "Attaboy."
The SUV rumbled to life and pulled out of the compound, leaving behind the noise, the sparks, and the weight of a thousand unanswered questions.
____
At first, he thought it was all a dream, that he was just hallucinating the rotting bodies walking around.
But the ride over to his house made sure to remind him it was very much not a dream.
He could only stare at them in horror as they drove past, watching as one of the walker's skins was slowly peeling off, and their limbs hung on by a vein.
The sun had barely crested the gray horizon when the car rumbled to a stop.
A cool breeze swept through the street, rustling weeds that had grown up through the cracked sidewalks.
No traffic, no people, just silence.
And in that silence stood the Grimes household.
Rick stared at it through the dusty windshield, his jaw tight.
The house looked more worn down than he remembered.
A ghost of a life that had once been whole.
Leo cut the engine, and the sudden quiet in its absence felt almost deafening.
"New day, new adventure," the boy muttered, slipping on his dragon mask.
He turned to Rick.
"You ready?"
Rick nodded, though he didn't feel it. "Yeah."
He stepped out of the van, boots crunching on gravel.
The morning was cold, sharper than it should've been.
The sky overhead was a pale, sickly blue, clouds hanging low like smoke.
They approached slowly, Rick dragging his feet a little more with each step. He stared at the house, hands shaking, ribs aching, brain buzzing with memories, Carl playing on the porch, Lori yelling from the window, Sunday dinners and birthday mornings and little arguments that now felt like dust.
Leo was the first to move.
The rest fanned out through the area, Hound's K-9 on high alert.
He checked the perimeter in practiced silence, ducking under windows, peeking through cracks. He gave Rick a signal, a small wave, and the two moved to the front door.
He watched as Leo knocked on the door in confusion.
"Why are you knocking on the door?"
The boy turned to him and quietly explained.
"Walkers wander around and somehow always find a way inside houses, and they can be deceptively sneekyt for whatever fucking reason despite growling all the damn time, so its important to make some noise and wait to see if any come growling back."
"They respond to noise?"
"Like a month to a flame, make too much and a crowd of them might come running to you. Don't ask me how that works on a rotting corpse, it's bullshit is what I think."
They waited a couple more minutes, but nothing responded.
"...And this works?"
"Do you know how many people died because they were too stupid to check first?"
"...a lot?"
Leo gave him the most deadpan stare he has ever seen in his life.
"Stupidest deaths I have ever witnessed, anyway, looks like it's clear."
Rick reached for the handle.
It turned without resistance.
The door opened with a soft groan, and the air that greeted them was still, stale, and cold.
No smell of death.
No blood on the walls.
Just… nothing.
Rick stepped inside.
The other four followed, ready for action.
Each footfall echoed against the hardwood like an accusation. The furniture was still there, untouched but coated in dust.
But no people.
No sign of struggle either, just abandonment.
Rick moved slowly, reverently, through the home like a ghost in his own life.
He reached the living room, he looked around to see if there was anything that could tell him what had happened to his family.
He spotted the empty shelves and walls where his family's photos used to be.
And stopped.
His throat tightened.
"Lori…" he whispered.
Leo glanced over. "What is it?"
Rick crouched down and pulled open the drawer beneath the shelf.
Empty.
He moved to the cabinet beside it.
Same.
The photo albums, the ones Lori always kept in the living room, were gone.
"She took them," Rick murmured. "The albums, the photos. All of them."
Leo tilted his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "And that means…?"
Rick stood, his face pale but a light flickering in his eyes.
"It means she had time. Time to pack, time to leave and get to safety… which means they're not dead."
He looked around the house again, seeing it differently now. "She didn't just flee. She made a decision. She left nothing important behind. She took Carl, packed the photos, and went somewhere she thought was safer."
Leo crossed his arms. "...if that's true, then she's probably over at Atlanta."
Rick let out a breath that trembled. "Why?"
"The government said there was a refugee center over there, it only makes sense."
He turned to Leo, a question forming in his head.
"...Then why aren't you or your people there right now?"
He was only met with silence.
The two of them stood there a moment, letting the quiet settle.
It wasn't peace, not really, but it wasn't despair either.
Rick walked to the couch and sat down slowly, rubbing his face.
"I was half-ready to find a corpse in here. Instead, I find hope."
Leo sat across from him on the armrest of a broken chair, his mask pushed up on his head now.
His men walked around the house, scavenging for anything useful, and Rick didn't care to stop them.
"Yeah, well… the world's ugly, but it's not hopeless. Not if you look hard enough."
Rick looked at him, studying the boy again.
That calm intensity.
That strange mix of youth and burden.
"You didn't have to be the one to come with me. Morgan, he made that clear."
Leo shrugged, casually. "I wanted to."
"Why?"
Leo gave a crooked smile. "Because like I said, if my family was out there, and the chance of them still being alive? I'd hope someone would help me look, too."
Rick didn't reply right away.
Instead, he looked out the window. The world was dead, yes, but maybe not everything in it.
Maybe not yet.
He turned back to Leo. "I'm gonna find them."
Leo smirked. "Good, because I didn't roll out of bed at dawn for a wild goose chase."
Rick gave a dry chuckle.
He stood up, the old couch creaking under his weight, and walked slowly to the cabinet tucked in the corner of the room.
Dust swirled as he opened it.
Inside, on a rusted hook, hung a familiar key ring, his patrol car keys, his house key, and a couple of others he hadn't thought about in weeks.
He took the one he was looking for with a quiet jingle.
Leo watched from across the room, head tilted slightly. "And where are you going, hmm?"
His fingers tightened around the keys.
"The station," he said. "Got a stash there, guns, gear, riot vest, maybe a few shells. After that…"
He finally met Leo's eyes.
"…I'm going to Atlanta. I have to find my family."
Leo blinked, then let out a small snort.
Rick squinted. "What?"
Leo grinned. "The police station? Dude, I emptied that place out weeks ago."
Rick froze. "…You what?"
Leo held up his hands innocently, but the grin didn't fade.
"Hey, don't give me that look. It was wide open! No people, no walkers, just supplies wasting away on dusty shelves. I figured someone should put them to good use."
Rick just stared at him, deadpan.
"You raided my police station."
Leo shrugged, smug as ever. "I salvaged your police station."
Rick opened his mouth, then sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"But!" Leo said quickly, lifting a finger, "Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. You want gear? I've got gear. I'll set you up with the best stuff and give you a car with enough gas to get you there, plus some of my guys to—"
"No," Rick cut in. "You've done enough. Just the gear's more than fine."
Leo's smile faded slightly.
Then his brow furrowed.
"No."
Rick blinked. "What?"
"I said no," Leo repeated, voice firmer now, the playfulness gone. "You're not going alone."
"I can handle myself."
"That's not the point," Leo said, stepping in. "If you get unlucky once, it's over. All it takes is one slip, one ambush, and one bite. That's all it takes for your life to be over."
He poked Rick lightly in the chest. "And I didn't drag your ass out of that mess just so you could walk straight into another one without backup."
Rick hesitated, jaw tight, stubborn.
"You're going to Atlanta for your family, right? And you want to make it there and see your family alive? I'm giving you some of my best guys for the job. Doc is one of our best healers, Hound is one of our best trackers, so you're definitely going to need him, and Hawk can spot a walker miles away. That's final. They'll follow your lead, keep quiet, watch your six."
Rick searched his face, saw no room for argument.
Just conviction.
And concern.
"…You really don't take no for an answer, do you?"
This must be what Morgan felt with this kid.
Leo smiled, but this one was smaller, warmer.
"Nope~"
Rick finally gave a short nod, the resistance in his shoulders fading, and having no good rebuttal.
"Alright, fine. You win."
Leo clapped him on the back. "Good man. We'll get the SUV prepped."
Rick exhaled and looked around the dusty room one more time. "...Thank you for everything."
Leo gave a small shrug, pretending it was no big deal. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't die out there."
Just as they were about to get up and leave, Rick stopped and stared at the three of Leo's men who carried what was basically everything in his house that wasn't nailed down.
"Problem?" Leo asked with a raised brow.
"...No"
_____
They stepped out of the house and into the chilled morning air.
The sky was still that same sickly blue, blanketed in thin, sluggish clouds. It would rain soon, probably.
The kind of cold, miserable drizzle that soaked into your bones.
The others had already loaded the last of the supplies that they had raided from other houses into the SUV. Leo gave a short wave to his team, and they returned to standby.
Rick followed after, stepping off the porch—
And stopped.
There, maybe thirty feet down the street, was a walker.
It was slow.
Lurching.
Its clothes were torn and soaked with long-dried blood. Its mouth hung open in a wet snarl, its gums black, and its jaw crooked. One of its arms dangled unnaturally, barely attached.
Its cloudy eyes locked onto them with that insatiable hunger, and it let out a low, gurgling growl.
His hand tightened around the cleaver Leo had given him.
His jaw clenched, his shoulders went stiff, and he didn't move.
The walker kept coming, dragging one leg like a broken puppet. Its guttural groans filled the empty street with that horrible, death-rattled rhythm.
Rick's pulse began to climb.
His grip tightened to the point of whitening his knuckles, but he still didn't move.
He was frozen.
Leo watched him for a beat.
Then sighed, stepped beside him, and nodded toward the approaching corpse.
"That's not gonna be your first or your last."
Rick didn't answer.
Leo's voice was quiet, but steady. "You wanted to go out there by yourself? Then you've gotta get used to it. You will have to kill walkers to make it in this world."
Rick's eyes stayed on the thing.
Leo pointed at the rotting figure, as if giving a lesson.
"Rule number one, go for the head, destroy the brain. Doesn't matter how messed up they look, doesn't matter how slow they are, unless the brain's gone, they don't stop."
The walker groaned louder now, closer.
"Swing high and down strong, don't hesitate."
Leo stepped closer and lowered his voice, not mocking, not judging, just blunt.
Still, Rick didn't move.
As the walker kept dragging itself closer, Rick's fingers twitched around the cleaver's handle, but still, he didn't move.
Leo watched him silently for a few more seconds, then asked, voice low but pointed, "Why are you hesitating?"
Rick's jaw clenched. He didn't look at him, eyes still locked on the corpse shuffling toward them.
"They were… they were one of us," he muttered. "They had a life. A job, friends, and family. Someone who gave a damn. Maybe they were heading to work, or maybe they were going to pick up their kid. Maybe they were just… living."
His voice cracked slightly at the end.
"And now I've gotta kill them like they're nothing."
The walker groaned again, dragging itself forward with jerky, hungry limbs.
Leo was quiet for a moment.
"...You're right, they were people."
He took a step closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Rick.
"But they're not anymore."
Rick turned his head slightly toward him.
"They may wear our skin and clothes and even our faces. But there's nothing left in there. No thoughts, no feelings, and no soul."
The walker snarled, close now.
Its blackened gums peeled back as it gnashed the air.
"All they want to do is kill. To eat. To make more of themselves. That's it, that's all they are now."
Leo's voice hardened just a touch.
Rick's grip on the cleaver tightened.
"You're not killing a person anymore, Rick. You're killing the parasite that took over."
But it still wasn't enough to convince him, causing Leo to sigh.
"If you hesitate out there, Rick… you die. Worse? Someone you care about dies and becomes one of them. Why? Because you couldn't do it, do you want that to happen? To your wife? To your kid? Your family? Do you want that to happen? Do you want your family to look like them?"
Rick's fingers flexed.
He exhaled slowly.
Then, in one sudden movement, he stepped forward.
The walker raised its arms, reaching with twitching, clawed fingers.
Rick raised the cleaver and brought it down in a clean, brutal arc.
A wet crack rang out as the blade buried itself in the walker's skull, splitting it cleanly from temple to jaw.
The body dropped instantly, thudding against the street.
Rick stood over it, chest rising and falling, staring down at the corpse.
Then he yanked the cleaver free with a squelch.
Leo nodded once, satisfied.
Rick wiped the blade on the walker's tattered shirt and turned back toward him.
"Come on. Let's get you to Atlanta."