TWD: Awakened As Rick

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The early morning haze hadn't yet lifted when the gates of The Right Arm opened.

Two trucks moved out with slow purpose, tires crunching over packed dirt. Rick sat in the lead vehicle, his hand resting near his holster, eyes already scanning the treeline before the camp was fully behind them.

Daryl rode behind the wheel. Glenn was beside him with the map. T-Dog, Andrea, and Carl were in the second truck. Six people, two vehicles, and one destination.

Riverbend.

Carl leaned forward in the truck bed, watching the woods rush past. He clutched his rifle the way Rick had taught him—close, but never too tight. He'd cleaned it himself last night, even re-oiled the bolt.

He wasn't nervous.

But every sound made his shoulders twitch. The crows. The creaking trees. Daryl's truck kicking up gravel just ahead.

Andrea sat across from him. She hadn't said much since they left. She just cleaned her knife, then cleaned it again.

Carl didn't want to admit it out loud, but it felt like the air was waiting for something to happen.

Like the trees knew something he didn't.

Two hours in, they reached the Riverbend outskirts.

Rick signaled for a stop.

The town sat in a shallow basin, overgrown and quiet. Weeds had overtaken the road. The buildings leaned in like grave markers. The gas station loomed at the far edge, its rusted sign swaying in the wind.

Rick opened the door, stepped out, and scanned.

Nothing moved.

"Fan out," he ordered.

Daryl headed toward the station with his crossbow raised. Glenn and Andrea moved left toward the diner. T-Dog followed Rick toward the main street. Carl stayed behind at the vehicle with instructions to stay sharp, engine ready.

Inside the diner, Glenn found a few boxes of unopened food—expired, but sealed. Andrea pried a cabinet open and pulled out a dusty first-aid kit.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Better than nothing," Glenn muttered, tossing cans into a pack.

Andrea didn't reply. Her eyes stayed on the boarded windows.

She didn't like how quiet it was.

Neither did he.

At the gas station, Daryl found the tanks still sealed. No signs of tampering. No siphoning.

He cracked the lock on the side access panel and checked the underground reserves.

His lips curled into a grin.

"We're in luck," he radioed. "Tanks still half full. Haven't been touched."

Rick's voice came back through the static.

"Start pumping. We'll cover."

Daryl got to work.

Rick and T-Dog moved through the post office next. Paper. Dead phones. A few batteries. 

But what caught Rick's attention was the calendar pinned to the wall. 

The last day circled: three months ago.

"We strip this place clean," Rick said. "Don't leave a damn thing behind."

T-Dog nodded. "Already ahead of you."

At the truck, Carl kept watch.

His grip on the rifle never loosened.

Every movement in the distance had his full attention. He scanned roofs, alleys, tree lines.

He wanted Rick to see that.

Wanted to prove he could handle it.

And when the wind kicked up dust, Carl didn't flinch.

By early afternoon, both trucks were nearly full.

Food. Fuel. Tools. Wire. A single toolbox from an abandoned shed. Even a stack of propane tanks from behind the diner.

Rick stood near the truck bed, watching as Glenn secured the final crates.

Andrea approached with her rifle still slung.

"All clear," she said. "Still no signs of walkers. Or people."

Rick didn't respond right away.

Then: "Makes me wonder what scared them off."

She nodded.

"Maybe they didn't leave."

Rick didn't like that theory.

Daryl tossed the last fuel can into the truck and slammed the tailgate shut.

"We're good."

Rick gave the area one final look. The town was as empty as it had been when they arrived.

But something about it still didn't sit right.

Just a hollow place.

Like someone cleaned it out before death ever reached it.

"Mount up," Rick said.

Carl climbed into the back seat beside Glenn.

Andrea took point in the rear truck with Daryl. T-Dog slid into the passenger seat next to Rick.

They pulled out slow.

Dust rose behind them like smoke.

Riverbend vanished in the mirrors within minutes.

Nobody talked on the way back.

Not until the gates of The Right Arm came into view.

That's when Rick finally spoke.

"We don't go back there again."

Glenn glanced at him in the mirror. "Why?"

Rick's answer was simple.

"Because I don't like what's not there."

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

15 Advanced Chapters on Patreon

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