The Reaper ⚔︎ Rick Grimes

20 - Evil Homes

Life was bleak in the cabin. I had spent three full days here. There were cans of food and a gallon of water. I didn't venture out much. I ate, drank, and slept. The only time I did go outside was to gather wood for the fireplace. I kept off my ankle as much as possible. My only company was the sound of the walkers growling and scratching on the sides of the building.

The hole in my arm and the cuts on my body and knuckles needed care. The last thing I wanted was another type of infection to take me out. That was a slow painful death.

I packed up my last can of green beans and the water in a smaller jug. My revolver was fully loaded and I had some extra ammo in my bag but not enough to sustain me. So, I kept my gun holstered and took out my knife. I banged my fist on the back side of the cabin in hopes of drawing the lurking walkers away from my exit.

When I heard some snarls, I rushed to the door and opened it slowly so it wouldn't creak. My path was clear. I slid out and shut the wooden exit with care. I ran through the woods as fast as my ankle would take me. Before I got back on the unpaved road, a walker stumbled at me with its arms outstretched. I shoved myself into it with my knife ahead of me. Blood splattered onto my hand as the knife went through its chin.

Every car I came upon I checked if it had keys or something to turn the ignition. I also checked for medicine and bandages but found absolutely nothing on both fronts.

I was beginning to lose hope until I found a small cluster of houses in a cul-de-sac. They were all painted a bright shade of blue, had white fences dividing their respective yards, and were built the exact same way.

"Am I in the fucking twilight zone?" I said to myself.

I pushed open the gate to the first house. As it swung, the top hinge broke. Luckily, it hit the overgrown grass so it didn't produce much sound. I walked up the cracked pavement to the front porch. A rocking chair moved ominously in the breeze.

I turned the doorknob and pushed my way in, my knife at the ready. In the entryway was a staircase and shoes that looked like they'd been thrown around. I passed the living room where the furniture had been turned over. I entered a bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet and under the sink. Nothing. The next place I looked was the kitchen. There, I found a box of stale crackers and a half empty bottle of vodka. I put both in my bag.

I still needed a way to clean and wrap my wounds so I ascended the stairs. That was when I noticed the dried blood that stained the steps. In the upstairs bathroom, everything had also been cleared out.

"Damn," I whispered.

The white carpeted floors also had blood crusted onto it. A lot of blood. Too much for one person to have lost. As I opened a bedroom door, a horrible stench invaded my senses. I put my hand up over my nose and held up my knife, ready for any walkers.

But when I turned the corner, what I saw made my stomach churn. Two bodies were sitting up against each side of the bed. They were placed there. Posed. In their laps lay what I assumed to be their own heads. The bodies' hands and feet were tied together. Although they were decayed, I could tell they had been beaten and tortured.

I rushed out of the room and shut the door behind me.

"What the hell?!" I blurted.

I leaned up against the banister and took some deep breaths to calm my nerves and stomach. Something sinister happened in this home. In that room. Whoever did it—I hoped—was long gone. When the prison fell, I was reminded that people were just as evil walkers. Even more so. People have free will and in this new world, there is nothing to stop them from acting out their darkest desires. I've seen horrible things but nothing quite like that. I guess I was lucky so far because I was sure that there was much worse.

I left the house. I gazed at the others with hesitance. If I saw that in the first one I went into, what secrets did the others hold? But I had to go because the walkers were moving in and the sun was setting.

I decided to go across the cul-de-sac. I didn't want to be near that house. My blade went through a couple of walkers' skulls to clear my path. The front door was locked so I wrapped around to the back and checked that door. To my surprise, that one swung open easily. The first thing I did was do a full sweep of the home. I made sure that there were no walkers or bodies. I exhaled the air from my lungs after clearing the last room. Before I searched for supplies, I locked the back door, shut an open window in the kitchen, and closed the curtains.

During my search, I found a can of beans and ravioli, candles, two water bottles, and bandages. The sun was nearly below the horizon so I grabbed my lighter out of my bag and lit the candles on the coffee table. With a can opener from the kitchen, I opened the ravioli and ate it as slowly as I could. I didn't want to eat too fast and throw it all back up. I learned that the hard way. After my food was consumed, I unwrapped my arm. I poured some of my water on it and my hands in order to clean them. I then wrapped the injuries with clean bandages, including my ankle.

When I put the can opener in my bag, my hand brushed over the bottle of vodka. I grabbed that out and stared at it for a few moments.

"Screw it," I said. I untwisted the cap and placed it on the table. I took a few swigs and then coughed from the disgusting flavor. Because of the small amount of food in my stomach, I got buzzed almost immediately.

"God, I miss music. I'd love some Elton John right about now," I told myself.

I thought about how my sisters and I would dance around to his songs when we'd get drunk together as I leaned back onto the couch. I took another drink. I then imagined them in this house with me. With everyone. Blair would be fascinated with Daryl. She was more into hunting than I was and she'd be excited to learn how to track. Dakota would take to Beth. They'd become good friends. Will would love Glenn. It'd be impossible to get them to stop talking.

In my head we were having a party. We laughed, had good conversations, played games, and ate good food. The only worry we had was how we were going to feel the next day. I was clean, had makeup on, my hair was curled. I was happy.

As I sipped from the bottle, I reached back into my bag. In my hand was the little bottle with the tranquilizers.

Tyreese, Carol, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Bob, Beth, Sasha, Judith, Carl, Rick. Their faces flashed in my mind. They were human at first then transformed into walkers.

I leaned my head back and let my tears fall. Sobs shook my body. I squeezed the pill bottle in my hand. After sniffling, I sat up straight. I unscrewed the cap and stared into the opened container.

"No!" I screamed as threw the bottle across the room. The pills scattered across the wooden floor.

I stood up, held a candle, and rushed to the office. I grabbed a notebook and pen. With those items in hand, I sat back down on the couch. On the paper I wrote 'I will find you' over and over again. I wrote it about ten times before I underlined and circled 'you'. I ripped out the page and folded it up before shoving it in my bag.

I blew out the candles and curled up on the couch. My head spun. As I fell asleep, I whispered one final time, "I will find you."