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topazy · 2 months

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Little dark age

Paring: Rick Grimes × reader

Warning: Swearing, zombie guts & blood, mentions of drug use

Chapter: 1.01

“Is Glenn really going down to get that guy?”

“Sure is.”

“Gods,” you groan. “Make sure nobody steals my shit while I’m gone; that idiot is going to need back up.”

With one hand, you keep a steady grip on the shaky ladders while using your free hand to shoot at any dead person that gets too close to Glenn and the new guy. With tiny chips of yellow paint rubbing on your palm, nipping it, you become impatient. “Hurry the hell up!”

Glenn screams as he runs up the side alleyway before climbing up the ladders.

The new guy seemed slightly disoriented and was taking far too long, looking from side to side as the dead started to close in on him. You shoot at the ground beside him, causing him to jump. “Unless you want to die, move! ”

With the extra weight of two grown adults and walkers grabbing at the metal bars below, you shove your gun into your waste bands and quickly start to climb back up to the roof. When Glenn gets to the top, you snatch the baseball cap from his head, causing him to frown.

“Sammi…”

Once you shake off the large spider, Glenn was yet to notice, you toss the baseball cap back to him, “you almost got yourself killed, dumbass.”

“I was saving... the guy in the tank from the geeks.”

“Yeah, well, don’t be surprised if the others are pissed. You’ve just attracted a shitload of walkers.”

When the new guy gets to the top of the ladders, you take in his clothing, a police uniform with a couple of badges on it. You offer him your hand, “sheriff?”

He nods.

Once the new guy is up on the roof, Glenn leads the way back to the hatch and goes to the next building, where the rest of your scavenging group is waiting. Glenn opens and it’s going to step down, then suddenly stops. “There was something on my hat, wasn’t there?”

“No, of course not.”

He shivers before going down first.

—

While Andrea and Morales explain to the new guy that all the noise he made attracted the dead, you continue to shove things that you deem necessary into one of your backpacks. The class surrounding the bottom ground of the store starts to crack with walkers banging on the glass windows.

“I can’t get a signal on the radio,” T-dog says. “We are going—”

He’s cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Another one goes off, and Andrea pinpoints the sourness of the sound, “It’s Dixon.”

You look down at the rest of your group's belongings and frown. You snatch your other bag and begin to storm towards the staircase leading up to the roof. “That bastard has my gun!”

—

Merle laughs when the others tell him to stop firing at the walkers. Holding up the guy, he says, “Hey! You ought to be more polite to a man with a gun! ”

“My gun,” you snap. “You thieving little crackhead.”

Merle was one of the most vile, insufferable men you’d ever met in your life. He blows you a kiss and jumps down from the ledge he’s on. It only takes a matter of seconds for Merle to racially and physically attack T-dog. You try to pull him off but get backhanded, causing your lip to slip open.

Groaning, you push yourself up onto your elbows.

Merle spits on T-dog before standing over him. “Yeah! All right! We’re going to have ourselves a little powwow, huh? Talk about who’s in charge. I vote for me. Anybody else?”

From the way his eyes are dilated, you can tell Merle was high on something. You watch as the new guy gets to his feet behind him quickly and creeps up on him.

“Show off your hands, huh? All in favor, huh? Oh, come on. Let’s see them! All in favor?” Merle raises his own hand and points the gun at the others until they copy his actions. “Now that means I’m the boss, right?”

The new guy picks up your gun that Merle tossed and hits him in the face with it, knocking him to the ground. He handcuffs him to one of the metal pipes connected to the ground on the roof.

“Who the hell are you, man?”

“Officer friendly,” he answers, grabbing Merle by the collar of his top. “Things are different now. There are no colored people anymore. No dumb-as-shit, inbred white-trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. The living and the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart.”

“Screw you, man.”

“I can see you have a habit of missing the point.”

“Yeah, well screw you twice.”

The guy presses his gun against Merle’s head. “I ought to be polite to the man with a gun. Only common sense.”

You wipe the metallic-tasting liquid mixed with saliva off your chin with the back of your hand. Glenn hands you a piece of ripped-up fabric. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You get to your feet, go to Merle, and kneel in front of him. “All of Dixon’s common sense was snorted away a long time ago.”

The man tilts Merle’s head back to see traces of white powder stuck to the bottom of his nose while you search his pockets. You pull out a little glass tube of white powder and ask, “What is it, cocaine? Ketamine? Heroin?”

“Put it back, you little bitch!”

“Suppose it doesn’t matter what it is,” you shrug before tossing the tube off the roof.

Merle kicks his legs and roughly pulls at the handcuffs. “When I get out of these cuffs, I’m going to make you pay for that! You fucking cu—”

He abruptly stops talking when the new guy clicks the safety off his gun.

—

You walk around the clothing section of the store to kill some time. With Glenn and Morales gone to scope out a potential way out, there wasn’t a lot left to do.

Hearing footsteps, your hand immediately goes to your handgun, but relaxed it when you realize who it is. “Hey new guy,” you say, putting your hand out. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

He shakes your hand. “It’s Rick, Rick Grimes.”

“Well, Rick, thanks for shutting that asshole up.” You push some clothes around on a clothing rack. “Honestly, if I wasn’t for the fact that I like Merle’s brother, I would have taken a shot at him a long time ago.”

His eyes land on your dog's tags, but he doesn’t ask about them. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Samara Rose Blake, but everyone just calls me Sammie Rose.”

Rick goes to say something but rolls his tongue and shakes his head. You go back to looking through the clothes, fully aware that you’re being observed.

“Do you have kids?” He asks, watching as you pick up two child-sized jackets.

“No, but there’s a couple of kids back at camp, and you can’t go wrong with lightweight jackets. You? I heard you say you’re looking for your family.”

“I have a wife and son, who I haven’t seen since... well, I haven’t seen them in the new world.”

Andrea comes into the room and says, “They're back.”

From the look on her face, you know it’s not good news.

—

“This is a suicide mission,” you grumble.

With the tunnel Morales and Glenn went down being a dead end, the group came up with a new plan. Someone would break into a vehicle, bring it up to the side of the building for the others to get into, and then drive away. The plan was easy enough, except for the part where someone needed to do all this without being spotted by walkers.

“A suicide mission your on, baby,” T says before rubbing zombie guts onto the king white coat that covered most of your body.

Rick had found gloves for everyone to wear while rubbing zombie blood and guts onto Rick, Glenn, and you. The smell was revolting, and the thought of walking outside amongst the dead terrified you, but you were so used to going scavenging with just Glenn that the thought of him going out there without you as backup didn’t feel right. To get the zombie insides on the outside, Rick had to drag a body from outside and cut it up with an ax.

Jacqui places a wooly hat on top of your head and tucks your hair underneath before putting zombie guts on your back.

After a few moments, you slowly twirl. “Do you think we have enough on?”

“Yes,” Andrea says, waving her hand. “You guys smell revolting.”

—

You let out a shaky breath before opening the door to go outside. “I sure hope this plan works; otherwise, I’m throwing you to do the dead first, Rick Grimes.”

“Noted,” he tried to keep a serious tone, but hints of a smile pulled on his face.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door for the three of you to take a gamble on your lives.

Mimicking the dead’s moments, you drag yourself underneath a few vehicles before coping with how they walk. You subtly look at Rick, wondering if he’s the same Rick Grimes you’ve heard Carl and Lori talk about. You thought about asking him before what his kid name was but didn’t want to give him false hope in case it was coincidentally the same.

Oh shit.

The sun disappears behind thick, dark clouds quickly, and rain starts lashing down. Washing the scent of death from your blood-soaked coats.

“The smell is washing off. Isn’t it?” Glenn asks.

"No, it’s not,” Rick says sternly. When a walker's stare lingers on him, he changes his mind and says, “Well, maybe.”

The second you hear a roaring sound, you know your covers are blowing. “Run!”

Rick manages to kill a few zombies with the ax before you reach the fence blocking off the parking lot from the rest of the street. The three of you make it into a large van just as the fence collapses and the walkers break through.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. They’re all over that place,” Glenn says, panicked.

“Our people are safe on the inside for now,” you attempt to reassure him. “They will probably have been distracted by the noise we made, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Rick says. “Glenn, you need to draw them away. Those roll-up doors at the front of the store—that area? That’s what I need cleared up. Raise your friends; tell them to get down there and be ready.”

“And I’m drawing the geeks away, how? I missed that part.”

“Noise.”

—

You smash the window of a bright red sports car, tripping the alarm, and swiftly reach inside and unlock the door before hot wiring it. You get out and squeeze Glenn’s shoulder. “You’ve got this man; I’ll see you real soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, be safe.” Nervously, he gets in and speeds away, distracting all the walkers coming your way while you run and jump back into the van.

Rick gives you a questioning look.

“What?”

“Do I ever want to ask how you know how to hotwire a car?”

“Definitely not, sheriff.”

—

You climb to the back of the van, open the doors, and bang on the shutters, “Come on guys!”

Once your people start to enter the van, you jump back into the passenger seat and pull out your handgun, ready to shoot any walkers that come up the windows. T-dog pulls the van door shut and says, “Go, go, go!”

Rick speeds away from the building and out onto the highway. You look back to check if everyone is okay and notice someone is missing. “Where’s Merle?”

“I dropped the damn key,” T-dog says, his voice full of remorse.

Oh shit, Daryl wasn’t going to be happy your group returned without his brother.

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