Days Gone Bye

Season 1, Episode 1

## Cast Guide

Starring
Andrew Lincoln as Rick Grimes
Jon Bernthal as Shane Walsh
Sarah Wayne Callies as Lori Grimes
Laurie Holden as Andrea Harrison\*
Jeffrey DeMunn as Dale Horvath
Steven Yeun as Glenn Rhee\*\*
Chandler Riggs as Carl Grimes

Also Starring
Lennie James as Morgan Jones
Emma Bell as Amy Harrison
\* - Does not appear
\*\* - Voice only

"**Days Gone Bye**" is the first episode of the first season of Fanon *The Walking Dead*.

## Plot Synopsis

Rick searches for his family after emerging from a coma into a world terrorized by the walking dead. Morgan and Duane, whom he meets along the way, help teach Rick the new rules for survival.

## Episode

### The Girl

On a desolate highway, Rick Grimes clad in his Sheriff's Deputy attire drives in a beaten police cruiser past the abandoned cars blocking the road. He stops his vehicle, getting out to grab a gas can from the trunk, and walks quietly toward a nearby gas station. As he approaches, caught off guard by the numerous corpses littering the grounds near the pumps, he notices a handmade sign reading "NO GAS".

He shakes his head, despaired, as a shuffling noise from nearby catches his attention. Quickly, he ducks down behind a nearby car, his hand hovering over his Colt Python holstered in his belt. He peers toward the passenger side mirror, as a short figure with long, blonde hair shuffles past him, unnoticing of him. A little girl.

Rick jolts up, raising his hand in front of him to keep distance.

"Little girl?" He mutters, as the child picks up a teddy bear lying on the concrete, "Little girl."

Louder this time, Rick takes a small step toward her as she turns to face him. The horror is quickly noticable on the young deputy as the little girl's face comes into his eyesight.

"Dear God..." He mutters as he backs away slowly, and the little girl rapidly approaches. With each step she takes he notices more features: her disfigured mouth, ripped open revealing raw teeth and muscles on one side, her ear dangling from the side of her head, and the gnawing bite marks on her right shoulder. Rick draws his Colt Python, pointing it toward her, and fires.

The girl falls as the bullet pierces her forehead, and Rick stands horrified, lowering his gun. His eyes remain on the child, now another corpse among a pile of many.

### Title Card

The title card depicts Rick Grimes in his deputy attire holding a can of gas walking down the desolate highway.

### Two Months Ago

"What's the difference between men and women?" Rick asks, tossing a loose fry into his mouth in the driver's seat of his pristine police cruiser. He glances over to his partner, Shane Walsh, in the passenger seat, fixing his hair in the mirror.

"This a joke?" Shane asks, his gaze fixed onto himself. The silence from Rick causes Shane to look over to his friend.

"Dead serious." Rick raises his brows, tilting his head as to collect an answer, "C'mon."

Shane sighs, putting his burger, drowned in ketchup, back into the container, "Never met a woman who knew how to turn off a light. They're born thinking in a switch, it only goes one way. On. They're struck blind the second they leave a room. I mean every woman, I ever let have a key...come home, house all lit up," Shane mumbles, Rick chuckling, "and my job, apparently, because I have a Y chromosome, is to walk through that damn house turning off every switch."

"Is that right?" Rick rhetorically retorts, tossing another fry in his mouth.

"Yeah, baby, Reverend Shane's preaching to you now, boy." Shane laughs, forcing a chuckle from Rick that almost lets loose the fry in his mouth, "The same chick, mind ya. She'll bitch about global warming. That's when Reverend Shane wants to quote from the Guy Gospel and say "Um, darling? Maybe if you, and every other chick on this planet, just figured out that the light switch, you see, goes both ways, maybe we wouldn't have so much global warming."

Rick's eyes slightly widen, "That so?"

Shane sighs, letting out a small giggle, "Polite version, I mean. Still, that earns you a look like you wouldn't believe. Loathing and smug. That's when the exorcist voice jumps out, '*You sound just like my damn father.*'" The two share a laugh at Shane's impression of the voice, "*'Always yelling about the damn power bill, telling me to turn off the lights.*'"

Shane continues, "I wanna say '*Bitch, you mean to tell me you've been hearing this your entire life and you are still too damn stupid to learn how to turn off a switch?*' But, uh, polite version there, too."

Rick offers a less heartfelt chuckle, bowing his chin. Shane takes note of Rick's response to this answer, reaching over to calmingly clutch Rick's forearm, quickly taking it back, "How's it with Lori, man?"

Rick groans at this question, "She's good. Allegedly."

Shane contorts, gleaming for information.

Rick takes note of Shane's response, continuing: "Pretendin' it's all okay until that passive aggressiveness pops out. Tellin' me to speak. Speak. You'd think I was the most closed mouth son of a bich you'd ever met."

Shane finally responds, "You, uh, express your thoughts? Share your feelings and shit?"

"Lately whenever I try, everything I say makes her impatient, like she didn't wanna hear it after all. Pissed at me all the time and I don't know why."

"Look, man, that's just shit couples go through. Y'all been together since you were 15, married since you were 18. It's a phase since Carl's gettin' older."

Rick lets out a non-heartfelt chuckle, "Speaking of which, last thing she said to me this morning? 'Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all. Right in front of him. Our child." A tear wells up Rick's eye, which he quickly turns his head and wipes away, "Imagine going to school with that in your head. Difference between men and women? I'd never say somethin' that cruel. Especially not in front of Carl."

Suddenly, the radio erupts, causing both deputies to jump in surprised, with a loud alert, followed by the voice of a tense dispatcher, "Radio, all units, Lindon county is requesting assistance with a 10\*80 with one southbound on Highway 18 South. Two white male suspects, one Lindon county officer is wounded. Rank is clear on call."

Shane leans out of the passenger window, tossing his food in the trash bin, as Rick keys up on his portable radio, "450 responding as a two-man."

### The Call

The police cruiser marked 450 speeds down the highway, lights and sirens blaring, as Rick and Shane listen intently for more information on their radio.

"Should be comin' up around this curve soon. You got strips?" Shane advises, unbuckling his seatbelt as the cruiser comes to a stop next to another, "Looks like Kendal and Basset beat us here."

"Got it in the trunk." Rick responds seriously, exiting his vehicle as Shane heads to the trunk. Rick approaches the two fellow deputies, "What we got?"

"Dispatch said a blue sonata, no 28's." Lambert Kendal responds, the ranking deputy on shift.

"Walsh is grabbin' the spike strips, let's lay 'em out at the middle of the curve, make sure they hit that field right there." Rick requests, pointing to an empty field the curve is pointing toward.

"Let's do it." Kendal approves, looking to Basset and pointing at Shane requesting he assist.

"On it." Basset replies. Basset was nothing notable for a deputy, still less than a year on the job, but he had spunk. As Shane and Basset finished setting up the strip, the four retreated behind their cruisers, preparing their weapons.

"Hey, think we'll get on one of 'em shows? Like Cops? What you think?" Basset asks, readying his gun.

"What I think, Leon, is you need to stay focused. Make sure you got a round in the chamber and your safety off." Rick demands, earning a nod from Kendal, as Leon notices his safety is off.

As the four point their weapons toward the curve, after a quick beat, Shane declares, "Would be cool. Gettin' on one of them shows."

Rick shakes his head, as they hear a faint rattle and sirens, "Here we go..."

The blue sonata reaches the curve, spinning around impressively, however, unable to stop themselves as their tires reel over the spike strip, causing the far to flip toward the empty field, as Rick predicted.

"Shit." Shane mutters, as the car comes to a stop after multiple flips in the vehicle. The drivers door suddenly flings open, and a man, tattered and bloody, emerges.

"Gun. Gun. Gun!" Basset shouts, nervously.

"Drop it. King County Sheriff's!" Rick yells, as the man boldens his expression and begins firing. Several shots go off, and Shane is hit in the chest, falling to the ground.

"SHANE!" Rick yells, firing his Colt Python twice, hitting the man directly in the stomach as Kendal hits the man in the chest with his pistol. Another man emerges from the passenger side and is immediately shot in the abdomen and chest by Basset as he begins firing.

"I got 'em!" Basset proudly exclaims, turning his back to face Kendal, who shoves Basset aside to join Rick in assisting Shane.

"Shane? Shane?" Rick kneels beside his friend, placing his hand on Shane's chest, feeling a vest, "God dammit, man, you scared the shit out of me."

Shane chuckles as he is helped up by Rick, "Thought the bastard got me for a second." Shane picks back up his shotgun, sighing a breath of relief. Rick buries his face in his hands nervously, his back facing the vehicle they had just taken down. Suddenly, a third man emerges from the backseat, pointing his gun, and hitting Rick directly in the lower back.

"RICK?" Shane yells, readying his shotgun and firing, striking down the third man before he could fire off anymore shots.

For Rick, the world went black.

### Grandma Jean's Vase

Everything's a blur. Three of Shane, three of the vases he's setting beside the table, three lightbulbs blaring in Rick's face.

"...and we're still hanging in. Everybody pitched in on these, they uh...wanted to me to bring 'em down. Send their love. Dispatch picked these out. I'll just, uh, set these on your table? Okay? Love you, Rick." Shane echoes, faintly, Rick barely comprehending the words he's saying.

A beat passes before Rick says anything, "That vase. Fess up. Steal it from Grandma Jean's house? Hope you left her that spoon collection." Rick responds, chuckling madly between coughs. But no answer. Maybe Shane's just stunned he's already awake. Feels like it's only been a couple hours since he went down. "Shane?"

Rick glances around the room, noticing no one is there, "Shane, you in the John?"

He turns his head toward the flower pot. Moments before, it was bristling with life. Now, the flowers were grey. dead, and dusting, "Nurse?"

Rick glances at the clock. 2:16. But it looks like the sun just rose not long ago, maybe a couple hours. Confused, Rick gently attempted to pull himself out of bed, wincing at the pain emerging from his wound on his lower back, bandaged. Weakly, he falls from the bed, "Nurse! Help!"

No one's coming.

### Triage

Rick paces through the hallways of the desolate hospital, taking note of the flickering lights around the buiding.

"What, everyone take a day off?" Rick loudly declares, desperately trying to make sense of what is going on. He finally finds the nurse's staion, and reaches for the plastic bag with "Grimes, R.D." written in sharpie on it. His clothes are hard as a rock, covered in mud and blood. His cell phone remains inside, and Rick grabs it. Won't turn on.

"Fuck." He mutters, and grabs a matchbox from the desk of the nurse's station. He continues on, noticing bullet holes and bloodstains on the walls until he arrives at a door. Blood? Mud? Something...writing big, bold letters across the dual doors: "Don't Open, Dead Inside." As Rick approaches, the doors begin opening. He falls backwards, startled, as the chains and wooden plank preventing the door from opening brace the opening, stopping with only about half a foot being open and a greying arm reaches through.

Frightened, Rick picks up the pace, heading down the stairs and toward the closest exit.

### Mass Graveyard

As Rick exits the building, the lights blind him. The sun is now directly in front of his face as opposed to residual sunlight from the hospital room he had occupied. He braces his eyes, adjusting his eyesight, he takes note of the hundreds of figures lining the ground. As he adjusts his eyes further, he realizes the figures are bodies.

"Oh, God..." Rick mumbles, falling to his knees at the sight of the bodies covered in blood covered blankets. He eventually manages to lift himself up, wiping aways tears and sweat of stress, realizing his next goal: Lori and Carl.

He trudges through the mass grave, stepping over bodies to reach the exit of the fenced area. Finally free of the hospital's courtyard, Rick reaches the streets. As he paces down the sidewalk, he sighs in relief as he notices a red bicycle lying on the grass. As he reaches to pick it up, a groan escapes from someone nearby. He peers around a tree, noticing a girl, rotten. There's moss growing over her back as she crawls toward Rick, reaching for him. Most notable, however, is her missing legs.

"Fuck." Rick yelps in fright, as he jumps onto the bicycle and rides away, glancing at the girl multiple times.

### Home

Rick bursts through his front door, frantically searching for any sign of his wife and son.

"Lori! Carl!" He shouts, collapsing to the floor as he realizes the depth of his situation. They're gone. They're not here. Who the fuck knows where they are? "Lori...Carl..."

His breaths quicken, each one deeper and more panic inducing than the last, "This isn't real." He smacks himself in the face, pinching the side of his neck, anything to get out of this hellish nightmare.

He collects himself as best he can, pulling himself off the floor and toward the exit. He looks into a dresser marked "photo albums" and opens it. Empty. As he exits the house, he sits on the front steps, burying his face in his hands. In the distance, a man shuffles toward Rick. Rick tilts his head, pondering on calling out to the man. A crunch of leaves behind him throws Rick for a shock as he turns and is immediately felt with pain searing across his face.

"Carl?" He mumbles, noticing the figure of a small boy with a shovel standing over him.

"Daddy! Daddy! I got this sumbitch, I'm gonna smack him dead." The boy shouts, looking in the direction of the man Rick had just seen. Rick looks over to that direction to see another man racing toward the man he'd seen before, lifting a pistol, and shooting him in the side of the head. Stunned, Rick looks back to the child as the other man arrives, pointing a gun to Rick's head. Surely, he'd finish him off, too.

"What he say? He said something, I heard it." The man demands to the child, pushing him aside gently.

"He called me Carl." The boy responds, his shovel at the ready.

"Mister, what's the bandage for?" The older man insists, his attention solely focused on Rick now.

"What?" Rick mumbles yet again, his delirium quickly advancing.

"What's your wound?" The man yells, as Rick's world goes black yet again.

### Fred & Cindy Drake

Rick tugs at his hands, restrained to the frame of a bed. He glances down at himself, noticing a fresh bandage wrapped around his abdomen and to his back where his wound originated. He glances quickly around the room as the man from earlier entered, suggesting the young boy exit who stares at Rick.

"Got your bandage changed. It was pretty rank. What was it? Your wound?" The man asks, grabbing a medium sized pocket knife from his side.

"Gun...gunshot." Rick declares assertively, still recovering from his forced slumber.

"Nothing else?"

"Gunshot not enough?"

"I ask. You answer. It's common courtesy, right? Did. You get. Bit?"

"Bit?"

"Bit. Chewed. Scratched or nibbled, nothin' like that?" The man demands, pointing the knife closer to Rick.

"No. Just shot, as far as I know." Rick responds, and the man immediately places his hand on Rick's forehead.

"You feel cool now. Fever woulda killed you by now, if it was a bite, that is." The man insists, cutting Rick's left hand loose. Rick reaches for his other restrained hand, however, the man forces his hand back down on the bed, pointing the knife to Rick's face for him to examine.

"You see this? Take a moment. Look how sharp it is. You try anything...I will kill you with it and don't you think I won't."

Rick nods gently, as the man cuts his other hand loose, and walks out the door and down the stairs.

The man sits on the couch in the living room with his son as Rick descends down the stairs into the living room with them.

"Fred and Cindy Drake. This is their house." Rick announces, examining his surroundings. A picture frame of Fred and Cindy, splattered in blood, lied on the floor.

"Empty when we got here. Just a couple of the dead."

"The dead?" Rick questions, peeking through the blankets covering all of the windows.

"No, don't do that. They'll see it. The light. More of 'em out there than usual. Never should have fired that gun today, it draws 'em. Now they're all over the street. Stupid...using a gun." The man laments, looking toward Rick.

"You shot that man today." Rick accuses, "In the street. You shot him."

"Weren't no man." The young boy finally retorts.

"The hell was that out your mouth just now?" The older man insists, pointing at the boy.

"That wasn't a man." The boy corrects himself, looking down at his feet as he slouches on the couch.

"Mister, you need glasses. That was a walker." The man tells Rick.

"Who the hell are you people? What the fuck is a walker? And where are Fred and Cindy?" Rick gets louder, causing a shushing motion from the man.

"I'm Morgan. Morgan Jones, and this is my son, Duane." The man tells him, motioning for both Rick and Duane to follow him into the kitchen, "Let's talk."

### The Dead People

As Rick, Morgan, and Duane sit around the dinner table, joining hands, Morgan recounts his blessings as Rick looks at the two who have their eyes closed and heads bowed.

"And bless safe travels onto myself, my son Duane, and our new friend..." Morgan opens an eye, glancing at Rick.

"Grimes. Rick Grimes." Rick whispers, careful to not interrupt the prayers.

"Mister Grimes. Amen." Morgan finishes, digging into the bowl of chili in front of him. Following the prayers, Rick quickly digs into his chili, having not eaten since he awoke.

"Hungry, aren't ya?" Morgan declares, staring at Rick as he eats, "Mister, you got any idea what's going on? With the dead people?"

Rick takes his attention away from his meal for a moment to answer Morgan, "Woke up today in the hospital. Saw a lot of 'em, the dead people lined up outside. Came home to find my family. Weren't there, that's all I know."

"Lined up outside? How about the ones they didn't put down. The walkers. Like the one I shot today," Rick stared in response to Morgan's words, confused, "He woulda ripped into you, bit by bit, until nothin' was left. I know how it sounds, but-"

"They're out there? In the streets? Ripping people apart?" Rick responds, quieter than his previous tone, staring at the blanket-covered windows in the nexdt room.

"Yeah. Sometimes they're more active after dark, sometimes they just...lurk. Maybe it's the cool air, shit, maybe it's me firing tha tgun today that's drawing them out. But we'll be fine as long as we stay quiet. Probably wander off by morning. One thing I do know, Rick - don't you get bit. Bites kill you. The fever, burns you out. But after a while...you come back."

Duane bows his head and Rick glances at the young boy, "Seen it happen." The boy declares with melancholia.

### Deadly as Dillinger

"Carl? He your son?" Morgan asks, Duane asleep next to him on the couch with his head on his father's shoulder.

"Yeah. He's with his mother, Lori. I hope." Rick responds, glancing out the small opening in the blankets on the windows. Rick takes note of the undead, prowling outside.

"Dad?" Duane mumbles, awakening from a deep sleep, catching his father's attention, "You ask him yet?"

Morgan chuckles, catching Rick's attention, "Your gun shot. We got a little bet going. My boy says you're a...a bank robber." Morgan chuckles between words.

Rick lets out a smile. Possibly his first smile since he woke up, as he sits across from the father and son, "Yeah, that's me. Deadly as Dillinger, Kapow. Actually, Sheriff's deputy."

Morgan nods, his face becoming a bit more concerned due to their takeover of Rick's neighbor's house. Suddenly, the blaring of a car alarm catches all three of their's attention. Duane jumps, with Morgan calming him as Rick approaches the window.

"Lemme guess, the blue one? Down the street? Same as last one. Bastards keep bumping into it, setting it off." Morgan declares, rubbing his hand through Duane's hair.

"Yeah." Rick confirms, as he notices a woman in a gown coming into view from his left, approaching the front porch of their house. Duane approaches the window, taking note of the woman, as well, before quickly jogging back to his father and sobbing.

"She's here." He mumbles, digging his face into his father's chest and crying. Rick glares at the woman, noticing some of Duane's features in her face. His nose, especially.

"That's...?" Rick asks, not wanting to confirm the obvious.

"Jenny. She, uh, died in the other room, same bed you slept on. Fever, man, her skin gave off, like a, like a furnace..." Morgan chokes up as he provides context to Rick, "Shoulda put her down, I should have. I just...didn't have it in me. She's the mother of my child."

The doorknob wiggles, turning left and right, as the three look to it. Rick slowly approaches the door, looking through the peephole to see Jenny attempting to open the door. Her face grey and her eyes...empty.

"She's at the door." Rick mutters, returning to Morgan and Duane. The three watch as the doorknob continues wiggling.

### First Kill

After the sun's rise, Rick follows Morgan and Duane as they apprehensively exit the Drakes' home through the front door. Morgan slyly hands Rick a baseball bat, motioning toward one of the walkers sitting against the fencepost.

"Me?" Rick asked, placing his hand on his own chest in confusion.

"Make sure you go for the head. It's the only way to kill them." Morgan recommends, pointing toward the walker lurking at the fence. Rick approaches the walker with caution, and as it awakens and reaches toward him, he swings down, striking it firmly at the top of its head. Rick stares intently at its dented in head as it slowly slumps down into a lying down position, and Rick vomits all over its corpse.

"You alright?" Morgan asks, placing his hand on Rick's shoulder as he leans over disheveled with his hands on his knees.

"Need a moment." Rick answers, as he wipes his mouth and stands up straight, bracing the wound on his back with his other hand.

As the three approach Rick's house, Rick makes a statement, "They're alive. My wife and son. At least, they were when they left."

"How can you know? Place looks pretty ragged. Anybody coulda run through here, taken some stuff." Morgan insists, skeptical over Rick's family's chances of survival.

"Empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes, not a lot, but enough to travel. And the photo albums. Nothing in the drawers, and the framed photos on the wall? Gone, too."

Morgan breaks down, sitting on Rick's leather recliner in the living room, "Photo albums. Hah...my wife, same thing. Here I am, packing survival gear, she's grabbing-" Morgan chokes, "Grabbin' photo albums."

"They're in Atlanta, I bet." Duane declares, "Daddy said sum about the refugee places. Broadcasts too before they stopped, and they got that disease place."

"Center for Disease Control. Said they were working on how to solve this thing." Morgan finishes, as Rick grabs a set of keys, motioning for the two to follow him.

"Looks like I know where I'm going." Rick tells them, walking out the front door.

### Protect & Serve

Rick unlocks a barred door, entering as Morgan and Duane look mesmerized at the locker room of the training facility of the Sheriff's Department. Morgan takes in the surroundings, from the memorabilia to the vintage newspaper clippings posted around the walls as decoration. One catches his eye, advertising the 1969 capture of a woman who decapitated two men with a sword. The two then watch as Rick approaches a shower, turning it on, and feeling the water as it drizzles onto his skin.

"Still hot." Rick smiles, glancing at Morgan and Duane who laugh happily.

Rick, Morgan, and Duane enjoy their hot showers, as Rick carefully shaves his beard he's gathered since his time comatose. Duane dances in the shower, gleefully springing about the hot water.

As their showers conclude, Rick and Morgan sit with towels around their waists on nearby benches.

"Duane, there's a dress room in the back." Rick informs the young boy as he hands over some fitting clothes for the child.

"What you say, Duane?" Morgan declares, glaring at his son.

"Thank you, mister Grimes." Duane thanks the deputy, awkwardly walking in the direction Rick pointed out to him. Rick and Morgan turn again to face each other on the opposing benches.

"Atlanta. Safe bet, I'd say. That's where we were heading before things got...crazy. Man, you won't believe it. The sheer...panic, streets weren't fit to be on, and then, well, Jenny couldn't exactly...travel. Had to lay low somewhere, and after she..." Morgan sighs, struggling to finish sharing his experience, "We just stayed. Froze in place."

"Any plans to move on soon?" Rick asks, hinting at them joining him on his trek to Atlanta.

"Haven't worked up to it yet. Got some stuff I need to settle here. For my boy and for Jenny." Morgan tells him with a half smile. Duane exits the dress room, as Rick gets up for his turn to get dressed. Soon after, he exits the dressing room clad in a new fit of his deputy attire, with the sheriff's hat as the signature finish.

"Clean up well, deputy Grimes." Morgan jokes, as Rick leads him and Duane to the gun room of the facility.

"A lot's missing. Hopefully Shane came through here and got some stuff." Rick prays, grabbing a rifle off the shelf and handing it to Morgan.

"Shane?" Morgan asks, curiously inspecting the rifle.

"My partner and best friend. Whatever the fuck's going on out here, I hope he's still out there and understands it better than I do."

Duane cautiously approaches his father, examining the weapon Morgan is wielding with childlike wonder, "Can I learn? I'm old enough."

Morgan gently pulls the weapon away, "Hell yeah you'll learn. But carefully. Teach you to respect the weapon."

Rick kneels down to Duane's height, "That's right. It's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you gotta mean it. Always remember that, Duane."

"Yes, sir." Duane respectfully obliges, exiting the gun room after a look from his father.

### Fork in the Road

"Conserve your ammo, goes faster than you think. Especially at target practice." Rick tells the father and son duo as they exit the training facility. Rick hands Morgan a set of keys, pointing to a beat station wagon sitting next to a dusted over police cruiser.

"Duane, take this to the car." Morgan hands a small bag with a few guns to his son, before turning his attention back to Rick as Duane approaches the wagon, "A few more days. A few more days is all we need and we'll be right behind you to Atlanta. By then, Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so damn rusty."

Rick nods, handing Morgan a portable radio, "Take that, turn it on for a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you'll find me."

Morgan, appreciating the man's actions, smiles and places a hand on Rick's shoulder, "Look, man, just one thing. They may not seem like much one at a time, but in a group all riled up and hungry? You watch your ass."

"You, too."

"You're a good man, Rick. I hope you find your wife and son." Morgan gestures to the world around them, "Shit's not like it used to be."

Duane approaches the pair, ready to head out, as Rick smiles at the boy, "Be seeing you, Duane. Take care of your old man."

"Yes sir." Duane chuckles, as he looks toward a chain link fence. Rick and Morgan follow suit, glancing at the chain link fence bending toward them from the weight of one sole walker. Rick reaches for his Colt Python he recovered from the facility as a deep sense of recognition reaches him.

"Shit...Leon Basset?" Rick mutters to himself, as Morgan offers a concerned expression, "Basset...didn't think much of him, careless and dumb, but I...I can't leave him like this."

"They'll hear the shot, you know." Morgan insists, urging Rick away from putting down his former colleague.

"Then let's not be here when they show up." Rick declares as Morgan ushers his son away into their car. Rick unholsters his Colt Python, approaching the fence. He sticks the gun right up to Leon's forehead and pulls the trigger, watching respectfully as the younger man fell before him. After a small breath releases from Rick's lips, he grabs his keys and enters the police cruiser, watching as Morgan and Duane drive off into the opposite direction.

### Lost Souls

Rick parks his cruiser near the hospital he had originally emerged from, awaken into a cruel and unusual world. He exits, unholstering his Colt Python yet again as he follows the blood trail left by something.

Morgan and Duane enter their home yet again, as Morgan points to the couch in the living room with a demeanored tone, "Read your comics for a while. I'll be upstairs." Duane obliges, sitting on the couch.

Rick approaches the legless woman that he had seen earlier, crawling desperately toward seemingly nothing. Rick wondered what had caught her attention. A squirrel? Another survivor?

Morgan sat in his bedroom upstairs, looking over photo albums his wife had collected, before one catches his eye: a headshot of Jenny they had for family photos a few years ago. Her delicate smile and embracing eyes caught his attention the day he first met her and even now. He offers a smile as he places the photo on the now open window frame, and pulls up a chair.

Rick kneels beside the legless woman, readying his weapon.

Morgan fires into a crowd of the undead with the rifle given to him by the young deputy, "C'mon..." One. Two. Three. Many of them fall as he glances rapidly in the crowd.

"I'm sorry this happened to you..." Rick mumbled, offering his sympathies to the woman who knows not what he is saying, only longing for a bite.

"Daddy?" Duane shouts from downstairs, jumping at the sounds of gunshots, until he hears his father's voice, "You stay down there, Duane! Don't come up here..."

Rick chokes out a sob, covering his mouth with his hand but keeping his eyes intently on the woman.

"Come on, Jenny, come on, baby..." Morgan mutters, searching the crowd, until he finally sees her. He aims his sight onto her head, as she turns to look at him.

Rick readies his weapon, pointed directly at the legless woman's forehead.

Morgan lowers his weapon, sobbing into his hand.

Rick fires.

### Long Distance

"Anybody who reads, please respond. Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond." A voice chatters over a desolate radio sitting jaggedly on a tree trunk in the center of a frantically put together campground. A young blonde woman and an older man quickly race to reach it, with the blonde woman reaching it first, keying up.

"Hello? Are you there, can you hear me?" She declares, desperate to make contact with the man.

"Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85." The voice statically announces yet again.

"Yes, we're just outside the city." The woman keys and unkeys yet again, waiting for a response, but nothing, "Dammit. He couldn't hear me, I couldn't warn him."

"Try to raise him again!" The older man insists, looking over to a younger man nearby wielding an axe, "Come on, son, you know how to work this thing."

The younger man approaches the radio, slamming his axe down into the ground. Shane Walsh. He keys up, "Hello, hello, is the person who called still there? This is deputy Shane Walsh, broadcasting to person unknown, please respond?"

The camp goes quiet, as a dark haired woman and her young son exit the RV to listen in. Moments pass with no response.

"He's gone." Shane declares, standing up as he lets out a deep sigh.

"There's others. It's not just us." The dark haired woman announces, stating the obvious.

Shane chuckles, rubbing the back of his head, "Yeah, we knew there would be. S'why we left the CB on, Lori."

Lori sighs, looking to her son, Carl, and waving him into the RV, "Lots of good that's been doing. I've been saying for the last week, we ought to put signs up on 85 to warn people away from the city. Amy's with me."

The blonde woman speaks up, "Folks got no idea what they're getting into."

Shane groaned, "We don't have time for that."

"I think we need to make time." Lori insisted, pointing toward the city, "It's like a fly trap in that city."

"That's a luxury we can't afford. We are surviving here, we are day to day. We got Dale's RV and a few bootlegged tents, don't you think I'd wanna get better conditions if we had time to make?"

"Who the hell do you propose we send?" Dale, the older man, asks Lori.

"I'll go. Give me a vehicle." Lori seethes, inching closer to Shane's face while answering Dale's question. She finally breaks her glance as she notices Carl still standing at the entrance of the RV, watching.

Shane refuses to break focus on Lori, "Nobody goes alone, you know that."

Lori scoffs, throwing her hand rag down on the ground, "Yes, sir." She mutters, as she storms off with her son quickly behind her.

"Hey, buddy, take a seat, alright?" Shane insists, settling Carl down on a nearby lawn chair, as he follows Lori into a trail. Nearby, Lori sits in a tent choking back tears, and Shane enters shortly behind her, "What, you're pissed at me?"

Lori sighs, barely giving Shane any attention, but he continues: "I'm not putting you in danger, okay? I'm not doing it for anything. That gets you more pissed at me than the world we are living in then that's fine by me, but you cannot walk off like that, all half-cocked. You can't. You gotta keep it together, for him. That boy has been through too much, and he's not losing his mother too, okay? Okay?"

Lori wipes away tears as she finally gives Shane the eye contact he craves, "Fine."

"You tell me 'okay', it's not hard." Shane jokingly responds, smiling at the woman as he embraces her in a kiss.

Their moment is shortly thereafter interrupted by a child's voice, "Mom?"

Shane exits the tent quickly to approach Carl, as Lori wipes her face and follows after, "Hey..." She kneels in front of him, as Shane edges closer to the main campground while still keeping an eye on the two, "I don't want you to worry. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

Carl nods, smiling, as Lori continues, "Yeah? Okay. Go finish your chores." She smiles as Carl wanders off to finish his chores at the main camp. She exchanges glances with Shane as she follows him, as well.

### Grimes Style

Rick approaches an abandoned farmhouse, only a can of gas in his hand and bag of guns strapped to his bag.

"Hello?" He announces, approaching the front porch of the residence, knocking gently on the door, however, as he knocks, the door slowly swings open, "Sheriff's department...can I borrow some gas?"

Rick enters the home cautiously, examining his surroundings as the buzzing of flies from the living room catches his attention. Rick enters slowly, a distraughtly put together, similar to the writing on the hospital doors, writing on the wall "GOD FORGIVE US" was, surprisingly, the first thing he took note of. Not of the corpses with half-missing heads sitting just underneath the writing. Rick quickly storms out of the house, vomitting in the front yard, as he glances over to a fence in the backyard.

A horse neighed from the yard, and Rick smiled, slowly approaching the animal, "Easy, now, I'm not gonna hurt you. Nothing like that, more of a...proposal." He grabbed a nearby saddle, "Atlanta's just down the road away, it's safe there. Food, shelter, people, other horses too, I bet. How's that sound?"

Rick coaxed the horse, slapping the saddle onto its back and hopping on, "Good boy. Haven't, uh, done this in a while, but I think I still remember a few tricks. Jeffrey called it 'Grimes Style'." He chuckled, leading the horse out of the saddle as the horse began running down a field toward the road with Rick in tow.

### The Road Ahead

On the outskirts of the city, Rick and the horse approached on the interstate leading into the city, taking note of the exit lane being filled with cars, while this side was completely desolate. As they enter the city, the pair pass a bus, with a couple of the walkers meandering inside aimlessly. The horse panicks a bit, as Rick coaxes it yet again,

"Easy, boy, just a few of 'em, nothing we can't outrun." Rick brushes the neck of the horse, leading it further, until they pass by a tank with a body sticking out of it. Rick hears the chirping of something above, and looks up to see a helicopter flying above his head, in between two buildings, "Shit."

Rick rides the horse quickly, following the sound and last seen location of the helicopter. As they turn the corner to another block, they are confronted with a swarm of the undead. Hundreds.

"Fuck." Rick mutters, as the horse bellows in distress, knocking Rick off onto his back. Rick quickly shuffles, watching as the horse kicks a walker in the chest, sending it flying toward him. Rick dodges, crawling quickly toward the tank, only able to listen as the horse screeches in pain behind him as it is devoured.

Rick withdraws his Colt Python, firing as the walkers get closer to him. His only escape seems to be the tank, which he quickly dives under, firing at any walkers that get close. Until he realizes he only has one bullet left. With seemingly no other option, Rick prepares the last bullet, turning the gun on himself:

"Lori. Carl. I'm sorry." He mumbles, before noticing a hatch at the bottom of the tank. He speedily slides the hatch open, hopping into the tank. With the sounds of the dead clawing at the tank, Rick struggles to maintain his breath, leaning against the wall of the tank alongside a dead soldier. Suddenly, the soldier springs back to life, so he thinks, and growls at Rick. Rick uses the last bullet in his Colt Python and shoots the man, point blank, in the head, causing his ears to ring.

Rick glances at the soldier's belongings, taking a grenade off of him and a fully loaded gun, as static rings out from the other side of the tank, from a radio built in.

And then a voice: "Hey you. Dumbass. Yeah, you in the tank. Cozy in there?"

Rick tilts his head in confusion, wondering if this was all real or if he had finally lost it.

## Co-Stars

* Jim R. Coleman as Lambert Kendal
* Linds Edward as Leon Basset
* Keisha Tillis as Jenny Jones
* Adrian Kali Turner as Duane Jones

## Deaths

* Little girl *(Alive, Confirmed Fate; Zombified)*
* 3 unnamed criminals
* Jenny Jones *(Alive, Confirmed Fate)*
* Leon Basset *(Alive, Confirmed Fate; Zombified)*
* Legless woman *(Alive, Confirmed Fate; Zombified)*

## Trivia

* This episode is Rick-centric.
* First appearance of Rick Grimes.
* First appearance of Shane Walsh.
* First appearance of Lori Grimes.
* First appearance of Carl Grimes.
* First appearance of Dale Horvath.
* First appearance of Amy Harrison.
* First appearance of Glenn Rhee. *(Voice Only)*
* First (and last) appearance of Lambert Kendal. *(Unknown)*
* First (and last) appearance of Leon Basset.
* First (and last) appearance of Morgan Jones. *(Unknown)*
* First (and last) appearance of Jenny Jones. *(Zombified)*
* First (and last) appearance of Duane Jones. *(Unknown)*
* This episode features 17 chapters.
* This episode plays out relatively the same as the canon series premiere.
* This episode includes a reference to a future character.