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PlotEdit

One police car, making a sharp turn out King Country, Georgia onto the side of the Highway. Inside the cruiser are officers Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh. 

"These goddamn bandits, going back to jail will be real shitty for them." Shane mumbles, loading his shotgun.

"Only shoot if nessecary." Rick reminds him. Shane nods, cocking his gun out the window, ready for firning. The cruiser pulls up to two trucks, three men with guns aimed at the car open fire. Shane and Rick duck and crawl out the car. Two other police cruisers pull up, two of the cops being shot down. Rick kneels, looking to see where the bandits are. Being out of reach he thinks of an idea.

"Cover me." Rick mutters, running over to the next car. Shane stands up, shooting one bandit in the arm. He is about to shoot again but the gun is shot out of his hand.

"RICK." Shane yells. Rick turns, getting shot above his hip. Shane picks up his gun and shoots one criminal in the chest. He crawls over to Rick as the other cops close in the bandits, putting them down. Rick moans, his vision going blurry. "Stay with me, Rick. Goddamn it, call an ambulance. NOW." 

Rick snaps up. "Shane?" He mutters, weak.

He looks around. The machine are off, his IV bag, empty. He takes out the needle, limping to the drawer where his clothes and hat is. He changes, calling for a nurse. No response. Creeped out, he ventures out of the room. He looks around, lights flickering, wires hanging many doors covered up, reading two words. "Dead Inside" or "Keep Out." Some had decayed arms stretching, desperate for food. Their moans overwhelmed the weakened Rick. He turns, trying to use the Elevator. No luck. Sighing, Rick heads towards the stairs. Next to the stair case was a woman, tied to the bed. Her skin was decayed and her lip was torn. The woman's eyes were yellow, rotten. Here teeth chomped, groaning for food. Rick, frightened, quickly limps down the stairs and out into the open.

"Fuck, where's Lori? Carl?" He thinks outloud. Looking for a car, all he finds is a bike. Pedaling down the sidewalk, he heads to his house. Somewhat close to his house, there was half a body, completely grey. Jaw torn, teeth crooked and flesh hanging out.

Pathetically she groans for food. Rick is now speeding up, he sees his house a little further down. In his yard, he hops off the back, reaching for the door and then all is dark.

Rick gasps, looking around. He weakly attempts to move his limbs but fail. Scared they are gone, his eyes snap open. Sighing, he is only tied to the bed. Next to him is a man in a chair, having dark skin and black hair.

"The name's Morgan. Morgan Jones."

"I'm Duane." a little kid on the opposite side piped up, holding a shovel.

"Wha-Where is my family?" Rick questions.

"I don't know. Probably dead." Morgan shrugs.

"Th-This is my house. What, what were those-those things?" Rick slowly asks.

"Walkers. Been lurking around for about a month now. The goverment wanted everyone to relocate to the big cities so they could protect us. I thought it would've been safe out here. Them walkers, they will kill you. Either bite you or scratch you. Only way to take 'em out is to destroy the brain. Is that what happen to your hip?" He asks, cocking his gun at Rick's forehead.

"N-No." Rick suddenly remembers. "I was shot. I'm a cop."

"Great, but out here, there are no authorities. If I were to guess, your family would be in Atlanta."

"Yeah....Lori has family there." Rick realizes. "Can you cut me loose? We can go to the Police station, get supplies, guns, vehicles."

Morgan leans over, cutting the ropes. Duane puts down the shovel.

"Not until daylight. During the night walkers swarm the streets. One of 'em is my wife, Jenny." Morgan looks down.

Rick nods, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Duane smiles, "What's your name."

Rick looks to the boy. He reminded Rick of Carl. "Rick Grimes. Operating Deputy of King County, Georgia." He takes his hat off, placing it on the nighttable. 

"See you in the morning Rick." Morgan places a plate with bread and cheese next to him. Suddenly there is a banging on the door.

Duane looks through the peephole then runs to his bed, crying. Morgan gets his gun ready, looking out of the peephole. He sees a female.

"Who is it?" Rick mutters.

"My wife. I-I never had the guts to put her down. She...she is the mother of my son."

Rick nods, understanding. "Just keep quiet and lay low." Morgan advises. Soon, Rick is able to sleep. By morning Rick was full again, strength returning and no longer dehydrated. "We should go to the station now, we're burning daylight."

"No, you need to know how to kill a walker. You must penetrate their skull. Gunshot works best, but only use if emergency." Morgan gives Rick a bat and takes him outside. 

"You sure they're dead?" Rick goes near one. It growls, limping towards Rick.

"Yep, definetely dead." Morgan says. Rick swings at it's face, bashing in the head. Morgan smiles.

"Now we'll go."

Duane grabs his shovel, Morgan grabbed his base ball bat and Rick had his Colt Python. "Try not to shoot, the noise attracts them." Rick nods.

The trio are driving to the Police station. "Your family is probably safe. There is a Center for Disease Control in Atlanta. Rumour has it they found a cure and keeping people. There's food, water, shelter." Morgan explains.

"Why didn't you go then?" Rick asks.

Morgan shrugs. "My wife was bitten, I couldn't leave her. She died and well, became on of them. We just were in shock for a while, and I guess, didn't go."

Rick nods then looks up. "Turn here." he commands.

To be completed

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