take us back (rick)

[victoria foster]

Victoria had learned the best way to deal with pain was to grit her teeth and deal with it. She crept through the trees, her eyes jumping from open space to road. Her nerves had been frayed from her her all too recent encounter with a member of the undead. Thankfully it had only been one. She clutched her bleeding arm, a souvenir of scrambling to flee. She’d been surviving for almost 2 years now, 6 of those months had been the trip from Texas to where ever she was. Somewhere down south. Her holster dug against her thigh, a now familiar weight since she had stolen it from a dead soldier’s body before having to shoot him again, making the deadly assumption that he had been gone for good. She a soldier now, fighting to stay alive in the presence of the dead and the living.

She finally felt safe enough to leave the relative safety of the trees, her feet carrying her to the cracked line of pavement. A few flies buzzed around the carcass of walker that had been put out of it’s misery. Victoria skirted around it and kept walking, a mixture of fear and hope rising in her throat. Hope, because the walker had been shot. Shots meant people. Fear because not all people were good, even more so now. The overcast sky brought a chill with it, and it nipped at the parts of her body that wasn’t covered by her tan fleece jacket. She paused, squinting into the distance. What was that? It looked a car pile up. Victoria was torn between increasing her steps and slowing down in fear. In the end she chose the latter, her gaze locked on the rusting structures. Her grip on the wound went slack for the moment, her hand resting on her gun. It might be overrun.

[rick grimes]

[Note: This happens prior to Rick reaching Atlanta]

He'd long since lost count of how many miles he walked after his car ran out of gas. Fatigue was starting to set in and he knew that if he did run across any walkers he wouldn't be strong enough to fight them off. His bag of guns hung limply over his shoulder and the thin straps were digging into his flesh. They would leave a bruise; another to add to his growing collection.

About to stop and rest for a minute, Rick narrowed his eyes and stared at the darkened horizon. Wiping his eyes to clear the haze of exhaustion, he made out a group of abandoned cars. There was no walkers as far as he could see but he approached quietly, his hand resting on his holstered gun.

Sure enough the car graveyard was abandoned. While there were no people there had to be stuff he could use. Food, water. A working radio. He had only gotten static from the walkies he'd shared with Morgan. He hoped that meant he and his son were okay, but he checked in from time to time regardless.

Rick weaved in between the cars, opening a few doors as quietly as he could so that he could peer inside. In a few there lay some corpses; their mouths gaping open and not moving. He found a pocket knife stashed inside one of their jackets. Sliding that in his pants pocket, he continuing searching for anything of use.

He made it to a fifth car before a small sound; like someone's shoe scuffing against the cement, captured his attention. Easing out of the red Ford SUV, he slid his gun free of its holster and stood straight up, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound.

He expected to see a walker but instead came face to face with a woman. He didn't lower his gun though. He could see hers resting between her hands.

"Stop right there." He said loud enough for her to hear but not so loud as to draw in walkers.

Tag: victoria foster

[victoria foster]

Victoria turned at the voice and froze, all too aware of the blood staining her shoulder. Her gaze flicked to the weapon, speaking quickly in case he was the type to shoot first and ask questions later. “I’m not bit. This is a stab wound. Let’s just say folks can turn on each other real quick, especially when there’s supplies around.” She took a step backward, keeping her eyes on the gun. She lowered her own as show of faith, but didn’t holster it. It would be suicide. “Listen, do you want proof? I’m not looking for any trouble, mister.” It seemed like trouble had found the man anyway. His eyes held a haunted look that she saw every time she looked in the mirror. 

It had been a bad idea coming here, she should’ve just moved on. Too late for that now. Victoria watched him carefully, ready to run. Running was what she was good at. Survivors were few and far between these days, and for good reason. People like her old group had fallen apart, a truck full of supplies had lead to a bloodbath. Tensions had been rising for weeks, and that day it had broke. Victoria had tried to stop, being the peace keeper, a good officer stopping a riot. But her action had only ended in more spilled blood, her own, and she had barely escaped with her life. She’d stayed away from other living people since, unless it had been absolutely necessary. ‘You have too big a heart, darling’ her father had told her. One of these days it would be her downfall, but she wanted to help. A trait inherited from the man himself. Her not running was her wanting to help the man. Maybe today was the day he would pull the trigger. 

rick grimes 

[rick grimes]

His gun hand did not falter as the woman spoke. His gaze drifted downward to her wound that seemed to be bleeding awfully bad. He hadn't come across any of the people she spoke of but if fear drove them so attack as quickly as Morgan's son had, he could only imagine what she'd been through. When she began to lower her gun, he let the grip on his own loosen. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his gun to his side and grimaced.

"I'm not either." He said, his voice gruff and tired. He took a few tentative steps toward her, his eyes scanning the tree line behind her. He didn't see any movement but that didn't mean no one was hiding out of sight. For all he knew this woman could be part of a group; her story a lie. People did crazy things to get what they wanted. Hopefully he wouldn't have to resort to violence to get out of this mess. Stopping a few feet from her, he looked her over.

"The people you spoke of. Did they follow you or are you on your own?" He'd help the girl if she needed it, but taking on a group of raiders wasn't high on his to do list.

Tag: victoria foster

[victoria foster]

“I’m alone. Have been for some time.” She hesitated again, wondering how much she should tell him. “My group. They...fell apart. They’re dead.” The sight of bodies and blood still clung to her mind. Why did they let greed take over? Didn’t they know another man dead added to the walker count? She couldn’t dwell on the past. The group had been trouble even before she’d joined them. Victoria stared at the man. She had seen his stance before, many times with her father. His father was a cop. Or, used to be. But did that mean she could really trust him? She had heard of dirty cops, one who abused their power and now was perfect for them. Lawless was abound. He had a right to be wary of her, she couldn’t blame them. A person’s word meant almost nothing. But hopefully he would hear the truth in her words. Surely the wound was enough evidence.