Reckless

“Be careful, alright?” Cassidy whispered; grievous supple lips trembling as the brunette’s nimble fingers tightened Wildfire’s mahogany western saddle leaving a dense tension to linger in the atmosphere. The sweltering Georgia summer breeze skimmed the sweat dampened flesh of her lean arms, Cassidy released a disheartened sigh as her russet studded leather cowgirl boots nudged a stone laying on the loosened dirt. Cody nominated himself to chaperon Maggie on her journey to retrieve Carl’s mother, Lori, to assure safe passage. He was the sole tenant residing on the Greene farm that had a real idea of the danger these mindless monsters possessed. He witnessed his father maul his mother into a mess of shattered bone and ripped flesh; the traumatized young man begging his father to not force his hand as he aimed a 12 gauge at his father’s skull. He sobbed, pulling the trigger as the monster snarled, lunging in his direction with murderous intent. He lost his family that day; he assumed, with his younger brother in Afghanistan, that his sibling lost his life somewhere in the chaos. Jaime, Tate and Cassidy were his family now.

“I’ll be okay, Cass.” Cody’s deep voice murmured in a soft assurance, muscular arms engulfing the beauty’s narrow shoulders in a tender embrace. “I promise.” He whispered, nuzzling his freckled button nose against her silken chestnut tendrils. A sense of comfort nestled in his chest as the scent of lavender and leather wisp through his nostrils. She was his home.

“Make sure to let the rest of Rick’s group know where we are.” She instructed, sympathetic sage irises gazing up at him as her angelic features reflected the concern in her compassionate heart. “They’ll need rest and food.”

“We’ve got it, Cass.” Maggie’s resilient voice assured, the muted thud of horse hooves stomping against the solid dirt ground echoing in the apprehensive silence, skilled fingers clutching the reins of her horse in balled fists. “We have to go.”

“Take care of her.” Cassidy whispered in a concerned plea. Cody nodded, mounting Wildfire in silence, as Maggie whistled at her horse, Cocoa, ushering the beloved pet outside the barn doors. “Are you sure I can’t come?” She questioned with a woeful sigh, looking up at her friend with a solemn smirk.

“Cass,” Cody started in a stern tone. “Hershel needs you here and you know I’d feel better if you stayed.”

“Alright.” She murmured glancing in Maggie’s direction as Wildfire released a snort, stomping his hoof, impatiently shifting as he awaited instruction. “Hurry back.”



The reunion was bittersweet; Lori Grimes was thankful for her husband’s safety but devastated by her son’s injury. In this world, miracles were scarce and unquestionably welcomed. The eerie silence lingering in the Greene farmhouse was disconcerting, a suffocating tension weighing densely in the atmosphere as each inhabitant performed a mundane task to remain preoccupied. Maggie recounted meeting Rick’s group of survivors, emphasizing with certainty that she recited directions to the farm that were effortless for the group to comprehend. Cassidy sighed, anxiously nibbling on her nails as she paced the farmhouse entrance. The digital clock read 8:45PM and there’d yet to be any sign of a vehicle.

“C’mon, Cass.” Beth, the youngest Greene sister, murmured sweetly. “Let’s go make Lori and Rick some tea.”

Tate was nestled on the spacious counter, back against the mahogany cabinet, with a half-eaten sack of marshmallows between his thighs. Jaime stood at the refrigerator, petite hands resting on the doors, as she searched the contents of the shelves for something in particular. Cody leaned against the kitchen island, massive sandwich crammed in his strong hands, with a mouthful of food puffing his cheeks out. Cassidy shook her head, following Beth to the stove as she retrieved the steel kettle to boil water. “Hercules, you put that sandwich down. You better not be eating my pickles.” Jaime warned, stomping over to the red head with a frown on her face. Tate had specifically scavenged the last jar of pickles from a vacant general store in town for his beloved girlfriend.

“’orry.” Cody apologized in a strained muttering, swallowing the food in his mouth as he chuckled at her expression. He was notorious for eating food belonging to Jaime and Tate. He’d never admit he did it just to annoy her. It was a form of cheap entertainment. “Hey.” He groaned as she smacked his sandwich down, the sub falling apart as it hit his plate.

“You’re a dick.” She snapped, fishing a pickle out of the remnants of his sandwich upon the porcelain plate.

“Daddy needs you, Cass.” Maggie called as she poked her head into the kitchen. “A couple of guys from Rick’s group are here and one of them needs stitches.” Patricia, Otis’ wife, entered the kitchen in silence, the unease in her heart at Otis’ absence was apparent in her melancholy expression. She worried about his decision to accompany Shane, Rick’s partner, to the High School to retrieve medical supplies. Rumor was the school was overrun with the diseased and the likelihood of infection was vast.

“Give me a minute.” Cody pressed, swallowing a gulp of his Pepsi before wiping his hands on his denim jeans. “I’ll go with you.”

“Let her breathe.” Jaime scolded, rolling her eyes at his incessant need to smother the brunette. “Geez.”

“We don’t know these people, Jai.” Cody ridiculed, glaring at her from across the island. “We don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“Tate, a little help.” Maggie plead in an exasperated mumble.

“Huh?” Tate blinked, glancing between his best friend and girlfriend. He was so accustomed to their bickering he was immune to the sound.

“Nevermind.” Cassidy dismissed, ignoring the exchange as she gestured for Cody to follow her as she exit the kitchen. “C’mon.”

“Don’t touch my sandwich.” Cody warned, pointing at Jaime as he trailed behind Cassidy, Maggie leading the pair to the dining room to meet the wounded stranger and his companion from Rick’s group.



“You got here right on time.” Cassidy commented in a knowing murmur, focused on the task of stitching a surgical precise suture on the injured man’s forearm. “This couldn’t go untreated for much longer.” She was met with pained grunts and a hiss through clenched teeth as Maggie struggled to keep the stranger from moving his injured arm as she worked. Cody remained silent, vigilant cinnamon flecked olive eyes glaring at Glenn, the Korean young man, lingering in the doorway. He recognized the fascination in the stranger’s dark chocolate irises as he watched Maggie Greene help her sister. He was smitten.

“Merle Dixon.” Cody’s deep voice interrupted the silence, startling Glenn from the day dream like haze. “Is that your friend with the antibiotics?” The question rolled off his tongue in a hoarse sense of hesitation. Mentally questioning the strangers’ motives, their capabilities.

“No, Merle’s no longer with us.” Glenn answered in a feigned sense of pity, the struggle in his eyes perking Cody’s interest. “Daryl gave us those. His brother.”

“Not sure I’d call him a friend.” T-Dog, the injured man, replied as he winced. The devastating pain revealing itself on his face as he tried to keep composure.

“He is today.” Cassidy replied tugging on the threaded needle as she continued to close the wound. “This Doxycycline might’ve just saved your life.” She proposed with an ironic thought; in a world full of the diseased and to think he might not’ve made it due to a cut on his arm. “You know what Merle was taking it for?”

“The clap.” Glenn answered before stammering nervously as he made eye contact with Maggie. “Uhm, venereal disease. That’s what Daryl said.” He avoided looking at Maggie as an embarrassed flush hued his cheeks.

“I’d say Merle Dixon’s clap was the best thing to ever happen to you.” Cody joked with a subtle chuckle, crossing his arms as a crooked smirk quirked his mouth.

“I’m really trying not to think about that.” T-Dog breathed, straining to remain composed as Cassidy tugged on the thread and Maggie held his arm against the dark stained oak table top.