Pretty Much Dead Already

The patrol car ran out of gas a few miles down the road, leaving Heather and Rick to their feet. She told him that it would be better this way, they would be able to get into Atlanta without making any noise or drawing any attention to either of them. Rick took the big pack from Heather and slung it onto his back, allowing her to carry her own backpack and his backpack, which ended up being way lighter than the single pack of her's.

"What do you have in this thing?" he asked her as they began their walk together.

She pulled on a pair of sunglasses and held onto her water bottle, laughing again.

"Clothes, weapons, toiletries and some books." she told him, handing the water bottle to him.

He took a drink then handed it back to her.

"What kind of weapons do you have?"

She named off a few hand guns that didn't have any ammo, a collection of small knives, similar to the one she had strapped to her thigh, flares, a couple of hammers and some nails. He was impressed at her ability to survive using just hunting knives.

"I might have ammo for those guns you're carrying. What kind are they?"

She squinted into the sun, trying to remember the names her brother had told her weeks earlier. She could only remember two of them but she had no doubt that Rick would be able to figure out the other two.

"I have a glock and a colt. I'm not sure what the other two are but the glock takes 9mm and the colt takes .45." she told him, keeping her pace steadily.

His pace was quicker than hers but she made almost no noise as she took steps next to him. He realized she had trained herself how to be quiet from the way her feet were hitting the ground. It was unsettling to think about what she might have been through before she met him. He made him nervous.

"I have some for the glock. When we find somewhere to rest, I'll get that loaded up for you." he assured her before he looked up at the sky.

It looked like it was about to get dark soon and when he looked at his watch, his suspisions were confirmed.

"We should find somewhere to camp for the night. No use trying to get to Atlanta in the dark."

She nodded and stopped in her tracks, her hand immediately going to the knife on her thigh. Rick stopped as well, watching as she held her finger up to him, silencing whatever he might have had to say. He watched as she pulled the knife out and slowly let the backpack slip to the ground.

"Stay here." she said through her teeth as quietly as she could with him still able to hear.

He reached out for her arm to keep her from moving, his fatherly instincts kicking in when he thought she might be in danger, then stopped, realizing she had been taking care of herself for so long, she wouldn't make any mistakes just because he was there. She quickly walked forward, her knife poised when Rick finally saw the walker that was heading their way. It only took a moment for her to run forward, kick the walker down, then force the knife into the top of the skull. She yanked the knife out and wiped the blood off onto her shorts, then turned back around and walked over to Rick.

"Can't take the risk of even one of them following us." she told him when she noticed he was trying not to gawk at her.

He retracted what he had thought of her before and found himself thinking that she was very skilled in not only being stealthy but also doing damage. He wondered if she felt as safe with him as he felt with her.

"We should get moving. It's almost dark." she said, slinging her back pack back on and motioning for him to follow.

They stepped off the highway and headed into the woods, Heather knowing that there had to be a farm house somewhere near them. After walking for about 20 minutes, she smiled when she saw the outline of one in the distance. They would check the house to make sure it was safe, then hole up there for the night. In the morning they would try to make head way into the city. Rick agreed with the plan and followed her through the brush.

She was quiet again, her footsteps barely heard as she danced through the tall grass, her eyes scanning every inch of ground they covered. Rick felt guilty for how loud he was unintentionally being. His footsteps were awkward and heavy and though he tried tip toeing, even the bags he was carrying seemed to create some sort of noise. He noticed she didn't say anything about it, which gave him relief as they reached the farm house.

"I'll check the top floor if you check the bottom." she offered, turning around to face him.

He was unsure, not liking the idea of splitting up at this point.

"We should check the house together." he nodded, keeping his voice firm with authority, "we don't know what's in there."

She hesitated, scratching the bottom of her jaw as she looked away from him. He could tell she didn't like taking orders and thought she was going to say something in response before she nodded and attempted to smile.

"You're right. We'll look together."

Rick nodded his head once and pulled out his gun. He watching as she dropped her bags and held her hunting knife tightly in her hands, taking in a deep breath before she placed her hand on the doorknob and twisted it. He followed behind her again, keeping his eyes peeled for any sort of movement in front of her. He saw nothing throughout the entire house which put him at ease.

"Looks like we're good for now." Heather stated quietly as they made their way back down the stairs and into the main living area, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving." Rick answered, pulling the hat off his head as he looked around the empty house.

It looked like someone had left in a hurry. There were a few boarded up windows and half opened cans of tuna lying around the floor. Boxes were stacked against the wall, as if the previous owners had been in the middle of moving when things went down. Rick sighed and sat down on the dusty brown couch that was positioned furthest away from any windows.

"Ravioli or Spaghetti-O's?" the young girl asked him, pulling out a can of each from the bag she had retrieved while he examined the house.

He couldn't help the smile that appeared, shaking his head softly.

"Ravioli." he said, taking the can she handed him, "Thank you."

She nodded and gave him a spoon from her pack, "For some reason spoons are the only ones I have doubles of. I didn't think I would be running into anyone else, let alone feeding them."

Rick was silent as he ate, his mind muddled by thoughts of uncertainty. He had been travelling for a few days, sleeping in the patrol car whenever he could but he didn't realize how alone he felt until he ran into someone else.

"What's your family like?" Heather asked him after a few minutes, setting the vacant can she was holding onto the floor next to where she was sitting.

Rick looked over at her and smiled, pictures of his wife and son taking over whatever negative thoughts he might have had. His family. The only that kept him going anymore.

"They're...wonderful." he started, reaching into his pocket to pull out the only photo he had of them.

She took it from him and looked at it, seeing the man before her smiling in a way she's never seen anyone else smile before. He was genuinely happy and from the looks of it, his wife and kid were too. She felt a lump form in her throat as a sad smile crossed her face just briefly before she handed the photo back to him.

"My wife, Lori, is..." he trailed off, not knowing where to even start. His family was his pride and joy and not knowing if they were alive was definitely taking it's toll on the sheriff's thoughts.

"Your family's fine." Heather told him, noticing the pained look on his face, "If they're anything like you are, I'm sure they're just fine."

"Thank you." Rick was looking at her now, folding the photo away in his pocket, "What about you?"

She was confused as she met his eyes, not sure what he meant by the question. Even before all of this had happened, she wasn't the type of person to talk about feelings or even carry a conversation with someone if the topic was merely personal. It made her feel awkward and even worse when she knew someone felt sorry for her. She wasn't one for pity.

"Let's talk about this another time." she tried to smile at him, "You look tired. I'll take watch while you get some sleep."

He started to object, not wanting her to keep watch all by herself, but caught his tongue when he realized how tired he really was. Perhaps a few hours of sleep wouldn't be so bad for either of them.

"Just wake me up if anything happens." he ordered her, his voice losing the edge he tried to maintain whenever he instructed someone.

"You'll be the first person to know, sheriff." she smiled easily this time, grabbing her knife as she rose to her feet, "I saw blankets and sheets upstairs. If you happen to get cold."

Rick nodded and thanked her again, slipping his boots off. She had already gone outside by the time he stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes, letting the night take hold of his body.