TWD: Awakened As Rick

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Ptreon for early access, exclusive chapters, and more:

15 Advanced Chapters on Patreon

patreon.com/Jayzero

_____________________

The wind felt good on his face.

Glenn ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, his backpack bouncing against his shoulders, boots pounding the dirt as he moved through the woods just south of The Right Arm's perimeter. A glint of movement to his left—just a squirrel—and then silence again.

He stopped by a fallen log and crouched low, letting his breathing even out.

This was his favorite part of the day.

The run.

Not because it was safe. Hell, no—he could feel the world pressing in on him from all sides. One misstep and he'd be walker chow or raider bait.

But out here, Glenn felt alive. 

A runner.

A lifeline.

He reached the scouting point—a tree they'd marked with faded red cloth—and pulled out his binoculars. In the clearing ahead, nothing moved. Just the wind stirring tall grass and a few distant birds calling to each other like they weren't living in the end times.

Glenn scanned left, then right. The train tracks were still clear. No new debris. No signs of raiders.

Good.

He pulled out his notebook and jotted it down, double-checked the snare traps he'd set on the way out, then turned back toward camp.

He ran faster on the way home. Not out of fear—out of habit.

Back at The Right Arm, the sun was just beginning to crest overhead. People were busy—always busy. Carol and Jacqui were washing clothes near the well. Shane was drilling the new patrol recruits near the southern fence. T-Dog and Merle were unloading fresh lumber for the new watchtower.

Glenn trotted up to Morales near the gate.

"All clear," he said, handing off the notebook. "Snare caught one rabbit. Set it to dry. Tracks haven't been disturbed."

Morales nodded. "Good. We'll send another pair out tomorrow morning."

Glenn nodded back and started toward the mess area, where Amy was setting out bowls of soup for lunch. Carl and Sophia were already hovering like wolves. Carl offered Glenn a half-smile, which Glenn returned.

"Smells better than squirrel," Glenn said, sniffing the air.

Amy grinned. "Don't get used to it. Carol found a few old seasoning packets. It's our lucky day."

He sat beside her, the food warm in his hands. They didn't talk much—just watched people move. That's something Glenn appreciated about Amy. She didn't fill the air with noise. She just was. A calm presence. A good one.

He took a deep breath and let the comfort of community wash over him.

Sometimes it hit him—how far he'd come.

Back in Atlanta, Glenn had been a pizza delivery guy with a good sense of direction and a quick mouth. He was fast, clever, and lucky.

But now?

Now he was a scout, a runner, a field liaison between the outer world and the heart of the settlement. Rick trusted him to go out alone. Shane trusted him with gear. Even Merle—annoying bastard that he was—called him "Scout" instead of some dumb nickname now.

Respect. Earned one run at a time.

But that didn't mean the weight didn't press down on him.

Every time he left the walls, he carried the knowledge that he might not come back.

That someone might have to tell Amy he didn't make it.

That Carl might have to take his jacket and hand it to Rick.

That his notebook—his careful records of routes and signs and risks—might be the last thing anyone remembered him by.

He didn't talk about that part.

He just ran.

Later that day, Rick pulled him aside.

"Need you for a convoy next week," Rick said. "We're heading to Riverbend. Could use your eyes on the approach."

Glenn nodded. "How many?"

"Six total. You, Daryl, T-Dog, Andrea, Carl, and me."

Glenn blinked. "You sure about Carl?"

Rick gave a small nod. "He's earned it."

Glenn didn't argue. Carl had grown fast. Maybe too fast. But Rick wasn't reckless. He never would've brought Carl along unless he believed he was ready.

Still… Glenn couldn't help the flicker of worry in his chest.

Kids weren't supposed to carry guns. They were supposed to ride bikes and scrape knees.

But this world didn't care what they were supposed to be.

That evening, Glenn sat on the RV roof with Amy. The stars were just starting to peek through the dusk. The wind was cool, carrying the scent of smoke and dirt.

"Do you ever miss it?" Amy asked.

Glenn raised a brow. "Miss what?"

"Before. Delivering pizzas. Watching dumb shows. Wondering what college to go to."

He chuckled. "I used to hate that job. But now? I'd give anything to deliver a hot pepperoni to some lazy guy in his boxers watching reality TV."

Amy smiled. "Yeah."

They were quiet for a while.

Then Glenn said, "I miss not knowing how to shoot."

Amy looked at him.

"I miss not knowing what it's like to kill something," he added. "Even if it's a walker. I miss thinking the worst thing that could happen in a day was a flat tire."

Amy reached over and took his hand.

Neither of them said anything more.

They didn't need to.

Before he turned in for the night, Glenn made one last stop—Rick's command post. He handed over his updated map and his notes.

Rick looked it over, then said, "You're the best I've got out there, Glenn."

Glenn blinked. "Thanks."

"I mean it," Rick said. "If anything happens to me, I need you to lead the next generation of runners. Train them. Teach them to think."

Glenn stared at him. "You planning on something happening to you?"

Rick smiled faintly. "Always planning."

Glenn nodded slowly.

And in that moment, he realized something:

He wasn't just a runner anymore.

He was part of the infrastructure.

 A leader. Maybe even… a symbol.

The guy who ran because no one else could.

That night, Glenn lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know what tomorrow held.

But he knew one thing for sure:

He wouldn't stop running.

Not from something.

But toward something.

A future worth building.

___________________

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Ptreon for early access, exclusive chapters, and more:

15 Advanced Chapters on Patreon

patreon.com/Jayzero