RICK GRIMES || "Courageous"

Chapter 3: Miserable Reality

     As I drove I watched a small picture I had of my wife and son with tenderness and nostalgia. I smiled as I drove my way to the big city of Atlanta. I left behind my home, King County with the hopes of finding my family any time soon.

     Suddenly, I remembered the radio from the car was working so I turned it on and tried to tune in with any survivors around the area.

"Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85. Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice. Anybody out there? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice, please respond. I repeat, broadcasting on emergency channel, will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85." I say through the radio, I got no response, only static.

     After a while I stopped. My car began to make a weird noise, I glanced at the gas marker, and it was pointing in the red line. The gas tank of my car was marking empty, and I still had a long way to go.

     I stopped in the middle of nowhere without a gas station in view. There was only a full road down ahead and deserted grass in both sides of this last mentioned.

"Damn it...." I mumbled as I got out of the car and looked around the area. I was holding my Sherriff hat on my right hand and as I walked, I placed it over my head as I fixed my handgun leather-brown holster which was wrapped around my waist. I gave I quick glance to my loaded 357 Magnum caliber revolver as I pushed closed the car's door after taking the bag with guns out with my left hand.

     I looked back up the surroundings. As I did, I kept my right hand near my Colt Python revolver in case one of those things my friend, Morgan and his son, Duane introduced to me as Walkers would appear and try to attack me.

     Now, it wasn't as before. I learned they weren't people, and it was either them or me in this new world.

     As I kept looking around, I finally spotted a place that could mean my next hope to continue my way to Atlanta. There was a barn in the distance right beside an abandoned house.

"I hope there is gas there..." I thought.

     I let out a chuckle of relief and hope as I began to walk down that way as I never ceased my inspection towards the place.

     As I passed by the fence of such giant place, I placed my bag on the ground. I looked at the house and knocked, but I received no answer. The main door was locked and even though I could have try to open it, I preferred not to.

     I turned around mid-way and went on a walk around the place on a steady pace, yet always keeping caution and my right hand on top of my Colt Python.

     As I walk down the farm's stables I found a lonely, yet healthy horse calmly eating some remnants of old grass; it must've been a while since he last received some fresh grass from his owner, who seemed to have abandoned the place.

     I took a long rope that was hanging on the side and decided to tame the horse to mount it. He didn't trust me at first but after a while, I was able to gain his trust.

"Good boy..." I said as I cautiously place the rest of the necessary gear to ride him on him.

     Afterwards, I took my bag and the rest of the belongings I was taking with me. I placed my wife's and son's picture on my pocket and placed the bag of guns on my back. I sat on top of the brown-haired horse as I held the reins as steady as possible. I must confess, I wasn't as steady as I planned over my head.

"Alright, big guy... It's been years since I last did this... (I confessed to him). Please, be a good boy (the horse began galloping)...Woah...woah!" I suddenly yelled as the horse began running the moment I sat up on him.