Living Like You're Dead

The morning after the attack brought silence to the house. Every single person was disturbed by what happened. These people had been in there home only 24 hours ago. They fed them, put a roof over their head, and what did they do in return? Kidnap a nine year-old girl? Lori feared for Carl, as Carol did for Sophia. Andrea seemed to be taking Abha as her responsibility - guess she ended up being a mom after all.

Breakfast was silent. The men had already talked about racking down the truck, and they didn't want to scare anyone about the new objective, for fear that someone would argue, let alone scare the children.

Lori was the only one who knew the entire plan. She wasn't happy with Rick - but she agreed nonetheless. Carol had found old toys and coloring books, and for they day they would try to keep the kids locked in the safest room possible. That seemed to be Shane's old bedroom. There were windows, but they were too high for anyone to reach, and they could easily run to the attic if necessary.

Leaving sooner was better; it was more likely they'd be close on account of them trying to keep an eye out for Jeremy. Walkies would be helpful, as well as guns, and they would kill the Redferns to defend their home.

Six people left that day, not many words were exchanged except “I love you’s, Be safe’s, and a few come home’s.” all mostly from Addie and Lori.

Addie hated that Daryl being so strong was always dragged into every battle they fought. It gave him a greater chance of being hurt or being lost, and she always had to stay behind to bear the burden of worry. Only a few hours ago was he in danger, and now he was again and she couldn’t do a thing about it.
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The children, Lori, Carol, and Addie all were told to stay behind. Glenn, T, Rick, Daryl, Andrea, and Dale all tagged along with weapons attached at the hip. One walkie was left at the house, and two were with the group; then two group of three could form, and they could cover more ground.

They only place they knew to start was at the dirt road. They would follow it until it lead somewhere, maybe find fresh tracks – a truck perhaps.

“So green right?” Dale asked.

“What?”

“The truck was green right?” he asked again.

“Yeah. It was green, look for a green truck.”

“Why are we resorting to violence?” Dale asked again.

“Because they resorted to eating people.” Daryl answered. “Listen… you got a problem?”

“No, no I’m just not used to trekking through mud with a rifle looking to shoot people who eat other people.”

“True, not something you do everyday.” Rick said. “Look at it this way: We have a perfect home, rooms for everyone, supplies that will last for months, and we haven’t seen a walker almost the whole time we’ve been here.”

Speaking just a little too soon, they came upon a walker. “Well… you know I said almost.” Rick added. The walker was a crawler, missing its legs. In its hands was a white rabbit, it’s neck broken and smeared with blood. Daryl shot it through the eye, completing a silent kill. Rick made a mental note to burn it on the way back so that the kids would never run into it.

“Almost.” Daryl added again.