TWD: Awakened As Rick

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Inside the main council hall, the long table was filled. 

Rick, standing.

Shane, leaning back with arms crossed.

Dale, calm and quiet as always.

Morgan, hands clasped in front of him.

Guillermo, flipping through a supply log.

Glenn, with a map laid out in front of him.

Daryl, silent in the corner.

Merle, one boot on the table.

Morales, taking notes with a short pencil.

Rick tapped a red pin into a new spot on the southeastern map quadrant.

"This is where we go next. About fifty miles south. Rural. Farmhouse. Freshwater. It's off the grid."

Guillermo looked up. "You sure it's still standing?"

"No," Rick admitted. "But if it is, it could mean livestock. Most importantly—horses."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "You serious about using horses again?"

Rick nodded. "They don't need gas. Don't overheat. Can handle trails where trucks can't. If we're going to start long-range scouting routes or real trade.

Morgan leaned in. "And you're thinking this farm might have them?"

Rick's answer was immediate. "Yes."

Shane let out a small exhale. "Just sounds like another blind chase."

Rick didn't blink. "It's not. I know this kind of place. Family. The kind that might've stayed hidden."

Merle snorted. "Or dead."

"Maybe," Rick said evenly. "But we won't know unless we look."

Dale cleared his throat. "And what's the plan if people are there?"

Rick shrugged. "We approach careful. Offer trade. If they're friendly, we establish terms. If they're not…"

He let the sentence hang.

Glenn nodded slowly. "And if the farm's empty?"

"Then we still bring back what we can. Saddles, livestock, feed, medical supplies—whatever's intact."

Morgan looked around the room. "Sounds simple. Could be dangerous."

Rick replied, "That's why I'm going myself."

Southern Stables – The Next Morning

The old corrals had been repaired with scrap wood and wire fencing. Inside, the community's only two donkeys and a stubborn mule grazed lazily. Children nearby giggled as one of the donkeys brayed and kicked at a bucket.

Rick stood beside Daryl, watching.

"We got all this ground," Rick said, "but no way to cover it fast."

Daryl nodded. "Horses'll help. You sure you remember the route?"

Rick nodded. "I do."

He didn't tell Daryl how he remembered.

Medical Station – Midday

Sarah double-checked her field kit as Glenn handed her extra rations.

"We're not expecting gunfire, but we're not ruling it out," Rick said, adjusting the straps on his pack.

Miguel stood nearby, quietly loading rounds into a sidearm.

Morales stepped in briefly. "You sure five is enough?"

"We're not building anything," Rick replied. "Just scouting."

Morales nodded and left them to prep.

As Sarah rolled up the canvas on her satchel, she asked, "What do you hope we find out there?"

Rick hesitated.

Then, "Proof that this world still grows."

Rick's Cabin – That Evening

Carl sat beside Rick on the porch, watching the moonlight shimmer on the metal roofs of the storage sheds.

"You're going somewhere again," Carl said.

Rick turned. "Just a short run. Nothing like Fort Barnes."

Carl kicked a small stone off the porch edge. "I liked it when you were here. Things were calmer."

Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "Things stay calm because we don't wait for the world to come to us. We go first."

South Gate – Departure

At dawn, the gates opened slowly, and the recon team—Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Sarah, and Miguel—set out on foot, pulling two mules stacked with supplies and tools. A small group of onlookers watched in silence.

Shane stood with arms folded, staring.

"Hold the line while I'm gone," Rick told him.

Shane gave a tight nod. "Don't worry about this place."

Rick walked without looking back.

Road to the Farm – Day One

The backroads were clogged with debris. Burned-out sedans, collapsed mailboxes, and the occasional long-dead walker rotting under branches.

Daryl led most of the way, machete in hand, carving through growth. Rick trailed close, mentally tracking old landmarks he remembered from a world that didn't exist anymore.

Glenn and Miguel followed, discussing fallback routes, while Sarah monitored the map.

They made camp that night in a church ruin with stained glass long shattered. As they huddled around a small fire, Rick stared into the flames.

He thought of a farmhouse.

And someone worth saving.

Forest Edge – Day Two

The land changed.

More birds. Broken fencing. A half-collapsed barn in the distance. Rick slowed his pace as they approached a grassy ridgeline.

Below it, past the treeline, stood a two-story white farmhouse with a wraparound porch. A satellite dish hung loose from the roof. Smoke rose from a rear chimney.

In the south pasture, three horses grazed quietly.

Glenn crouched beside Rick. "That it?"

Rick nodded once.

Sarah whispered, "Someone's alive in there."

Daryl scanned the yard through binoculars. "I see movement in the barn. Human."

Rick raised a hand. "No weapons drawn. We go in slow."

Miguel readied his sidearm, but kept it low.

They started their approach.

Pasture Gate – Minutes Later

The horses lifted their heads as the group passed through the fence. Rick led, his boots silent in the grass. He kept his hands visible, weapon holstered.

A shape emerged from the barn—an older man in overalls, shotgun slung low but not raised.

Behind him, two younger figures appeared. No one said a word.

Rick raised his voice, calm and steady.

"We're travelers. Not a threat. We're from a settlement to the north. We're looking to trade."

The old man squinted. "You armed?"

"We're careful," Rick replied. "But not here to fight."

The man nodded once.

"Alright," he said. "Come on up."

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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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