traded my life [TWD]

『61』

"Since we have a consistent supply of water, start cooking the ramen in bigger pots. The more water it soaks up, the less we'll eat. It's fill you up faster, too," I explain.

"Won't they be soggy?" she asks, taking the spoon back from me.

"Soggy, but resourceful. We don't exactly have the luxury of multi-course meals and restaurants anymore," I remind.

"Yeah.. I remember Carl trying to eat dog food," she says with a sigh. "That makes this look like a rich meal."

I pat her shoulder and walk over to Hershel. He was reading his bible.

"Any sign of Rick?" I ask him.

Hershel looks up and shakes his head. "Nothing. I heard a couple of gunshots earlier, but nothing since."

"I tried to talk to him," Glenn speaks up. "Didn't go well."

"You saw him?"

"I saw him.. but he didn't see me," Glenn clarifies. "He put me against the wall.. he doesn't look the same anymore."

I nod slowly. "I can try to talk to him."

"It's dangerous," Glenn advises.

"Rick's not dangerous," I argue. "He's blind."

"That can lead to danger," Hershel points out.

"I trust Rick with my life. He won't hurt me," I assure. "I'm gonna ask Maggie to watch Woojin. Oppa, where did you last see Rick?"

--

My boots echo in the halls of the prison as I walk through in search of Rick. I follow the trail of bodies and blood, each walker having been put down by axe slashes.

I hear a slam and jog further into the prison in search of the source.

"Rick?" I ask, seeing his state.

He cries and hides his face, slumped against the wall.

"Rick?" I repeat, panicked now.

I run over and kneel beside him.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"They hung up," he sobs. "They.. They hung up."

"What? Who hung what up?" I ask, resting a hand on his shoulder.

I look around the room. A dead walker. Rick's axe on the ground. His gun on a table. 

Beside his gun was a telephone. That's what I heard slam.

"They keep asking about Lori," Rick says, grabbing my arm and pulling me close to whisper. "I can't.. I can't.. And they hung up.."

His grip was tight on my arm and I knew it would leave bruises. Cautiously, I rest my other hand on his. 

"And.. what did they say?"

"They said they have a camp.. Safe.. A lot of people.." he mutters wildly. "But.. But, they need to make sure we're good people before they let us in."

I slowly nod. "Okay.. Okay.."

I ease to my bag and pull out a bottle of water. Rick lets go of me and cries some more.

"Here," I urge. "Take a drink."

"I don't want-"

"But, you need," I gently remind. "Please. Drink. For me."

He locks eyes with me and nods once.

"Yeah?" I ask.

Rick nods some more and holds his hand out. I rest the bottle in his grip and carefully watch as he takes a few sips.