The Reaper ⚔︎ Rick Grimes

21 - Old Enemies

My body jumped awake at the sound of the front door being banged on. I scrambled as I put the rest of my supplies in my bag and slung it around my shoulders. I secured my gun belt in my hips but kept my revolver in my hand. I placed my hat on my head. My boots made little noise as I tiptoed over to a window. I slowly pulled back the white curtain to see the source of the of the banging. My breathing stopped.

Bobby, one of the me who had taken me, slammed his body against the door. Behind him stood the woman. The leader of the group my people had disbanded.

I shut the curtain again and ran to the back door. I unlocked it before rushing into the woods.

"She's over here!" a man yelled.

I turned my head at I ran and saw a man I didn't recognize pointing at me from the side of the home. He had a bald head and dark brown eyes.

"Fuck," I said. My legs moved even faster. I dodged walkers because I didn't have time to deal with them. I had to get as far away as possible.

A bullet zipped into a tree that I ran past. The man that had spotted me was not far behind. He raised his pistol again. I took a sudden right turn as he pulled the trigger. There was a lake a short distance in front of me with a bait shop near its shore.

I went into the building, shutting the metal door behind me. There were two walkers inside on the far side of the store. I quickly ducked down behind the shelves.

"Helen, Bobby, over here!" I heard the man shout.

When the walkers moved, so did I. I remained crouched and maneuvered around so they wouldn't see me. They stumbled around toward the front door. For the most part they stayed grouped up which I was grateful for. If one spotted me then it was only a matter of time before the other did as well.

The bald man burst through the door. The walkers growled and walked toward him. He hadn't seen me yet because of my cover from the shelves.

"Shit!" he said.

While he was distracted taking out one of the walkers, I peaked out with my gun aimed. The only good shot I was able to get was his leg. I let the shot fly and hit him in the shin. Blood flew everywhere. The man screamed in pain, exposing his rotted teeth. The second walker then bit into his shoulder. It ripped out his tendons in a messy chunk.

I scrambled over to backside of the checkout counter. My back pressed up against the table. In front of me was a window that was slightly opened. Something glass fell over behind me on the shelf. I turned and grabbed an almost full bottle of whiskey.

"Frank!" Bobby exclaimed.

Two shots rang out.

"Where are you, you little whore?"

I quickly untucked my blue shirt and used my knife to cut a piece of the fabric off. I unscrewed the cap of the whiskey before stuffing the piece halfway in. Bobby's footsteps moved around the store but not close to me yet. I took my bag off of one of my shoulders and frantically searched for my lighter. When I found it, I quietly put my backpack back on and holstered my revolver. I flipped open the lighter. It clicked and the flame rose.

"There you are," Bobby sneered.

I lit the fabric as I stood.

"Go to hell," I spat.

Bobby's eyes widened. Before he could get out a word, I threw the bottle at him. The glass shattered and flames exploded on his body and on the fishing gear around him. The blond man pulled the trigger on his gun as he yelled but he only managed to hit the floor and the wall.

I pushed up the window and dived through it. The rest of the building was beginning to catch fire. I got to my feet and backed away from the shop. Heat radiated off of it as orange and yellow danced on the wood.

"You bitch!" Helen said. She stood behind me with her mouth agape. "What did you do?!"

The woman screamed as she ran at me with a machete.

"Shit!" I said as I ran toward the lake. Helen was too close for me to get out my gun. I had to get some distance. But she was fast. Too fast for my twisted ankle.

Helen tackled me on the shore of the water, her machete landed on the sand next to me. She put her full body weight on my back. I tried to get up but she was bigger than me. Whenever I got a little off the ground, she slammed me back down. My head hovered above the water.

"You killed them all!" she said. "You and your little freak friends."

"I tried to warn you. I told you they'd come for me," I panted.

"Now I have no one!"

Suddenly, Helen's hand grabbed my head, her fingers digger into my hair. She then shoved my my face into the murky water. I squirmed as I held my breath. I managed to get a small breath, but my head was quickly put in the liquid again. As I continued to move and fight for my life, I remembered the machete just inches away from me. I searched around with my hand but felt nothing but sand and rocks. My mind started becoming clouded. Soon, my lungs would give out and I'd inhale the water. But I continued hunting around with every bit of strength that I had. Then, I felt wooden handle.

I gripped the weapon and swung it as hard as I could behind my back. The pressure was released from my body so lifted my head and took in a deep breath and coughed. I wiped the water from eyes before seeing Helen wriggling on her back with the blade deep in the side of her torso. Blood spilled from her mouth. I fell onto my own back, took out my gun, and shot her weakly in the head.

My arm fell to my side. I laid on the shore as my chest moved up and down repeatedly. The clouds moved slowly above me. The sun peaked out from behind them and warmed my wet body. I closed my eyes and let myself rest. My strength began returning with every breath I took in.

Slowly, I stood up. I picked up my hat which was now soaked from falling in the lake. I walked over to Helen, propped my foot on her stomach, and pulled out the machete. I then cleaned the blade in the green water.

The bait shop had almost completely collapsed from the fire. Walkers surround the structure, drawn by the noise. They got so close that they set themselves ablaze.

I went into the forest once more and walked for a few miles before I came across railroad tracks, a sign, and a map.

The sign read: SANCTUARY FOR ALL COMMUNITY FOR ALL THOSE WHO ARRIVE SURVIVE.

If any of my group saw these signs, maybe they'd head that way. It was the only discernible landmark in the area as far as I knew. This was my only lead. My only real chance of seeing of my friends—no my family again. I had to go.

I traced my finger along the map and took a mental note of the direction I needed to go. I nodded before heading north on the tracks toward Terminus.