Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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Rick and I exchanged a look, our eyes locking before nodding at one another to confirm our silent plan. Taking the lead, I ran light on the balls of my feet as we approached the house. The house was a dirty brown, with dust-infested windows home to a few blood stains here and there for effect. As we ran by, a glance in the window was enough to let me glimpse the four walkers inside the house. I slowly ran up the steps and tightened my grip on my machete, prepping myself as Rick kicked the door open and fired a shot – the usual gun pop silenced with the nifty silencer Daryl and T-Dog had picked up from the gun shop. I ran forward and swung violently at a male walker, his head splitting in half as soon as my blade made contact with his decaying skull. I heard the body of another walker drop to the ground and exchanged a smirk with Daryl as he ran forward to retrieve his bolt, the black shaft protruding from the eye of the walker.

T-Dog ran forward with his fire-poker, stabbing the nearest walker in the head and grunting as he pulled away from the dead. I motioned for Daryl and T-Dog to follow me to the left of the house, our weapons raised in case we found more dead ones walking around. We broke off, each looking in different rooms as we raided the house for anything useful. Grabbing the flashlight, I clicked it once, the bright light escaping the battery-powered thing giving me a better view of the room. The room used to be an office of some sort—a large mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room, the bookshelves were stacked to the brim with books, and a laptop rested neatly on the desk collecting dust from a year of unused.

There was a random door on the opposite side of the bookshelves, the white handle dirty with dry blood. Slowly reaching for the knob, I grabbed my machete again, prepping myself in case a walker hid behind this door. I slightly twisted it; the door immediately yanked from my hand as I nearly swung my machete forward. Familiar blue eyes came into my line of sight as I stopped myself from letting the blade fly forward.

Rick and I exchanged a smile as we both realized it was a friendly face we were looking at. He lowered his gun and shook his head. A smile spread across his lips as we both retreated away from each other.

I continued my search through the house, the house coming up clean as I concluded in one of the bathrooms downstairs. Shutting the door behind me softly, I watched as Daryl and T-Dog slowly climbed up the stairs—a slight smile spreading across my lips as I realized the house was big enough to stay in for at least a few days if needed. Unfortunately, we couldn't stop and set up a base here. The house was too vulnerable, and it would be easy for a herd to break through the walls. I slowly crept towards the kitchen, curious if there was anything to eat left in the cupboards.

It's been a good day since I've had anything to eat, and I started to feel the effects. I walked through the doorway, nodding at Rick as he and Carl ripped through the cupboards. Carl stood at the cluttered counter, his sheriff's hat snugly on his head as his hand gripped his silenced pistol tightly as the back door opened. I nodded with Glenn and Maggie as they entered the now overcrowded kitchen. I motioned for the two to follow me and led them into the living room. I grabbed a walker by its hands and dragged it over to the side of the stairs, grunting at the sheer weight of the body. T-Dog rushed over to me, grabbing the legs and relieving me of some of the weight. Rick walked forward, pushing the front door wide open, and whistled, signaling to the rest of the group that all was clear.

I let out a huff and massaged my lower back, already feeling hunger and the dull ache from trying to drag the body alone taking its toll. Glenn and Maggie grabbed the other three bodies and gently laid them on each other as the group entered. Daryl thundered down the stairs, the wood creaking loudly, a dead animal held firmly in his hands as he showed it off to me. I nodded at him and watched as he sat down on the sofa, his hands immediately tearing away at the feathers of what appeared to be an owl.