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RICK OPENS THE FRONT DOOR to the house, a wooden bat being held by his right hand. He steps quietly onto the porch, Morgan, and Duane following out after him, Eve following them.
"Are we sure they're dead? I have to ask at least one more time," Rick whispers.
"They dead," Morgan whispers back in response. "Except for something in the brain."
"That's why, if you want them to really be dead, it's gotta be the head you target and nothing else," Evelyn whispers as they finally walk off the porch and onto the path leading to the sidewalk.
A walker growls as he gets up from the ground and Rick puts down his plastic cover so that no blood gets onto his face, slightly jogging towards the walker. He hits him in the head four times with the bat angrily before the walker collapses to the ground completely dead. Rick then falls to his knees, his left arm was covering his rib cage as he breathed heavily.
"Rick—"
"You alright?"
"I need a moment," he admits, not looking at the three as he tries to catch his breath.
After a few minutes of him just sitting on the ground, collecting himself together, he stands up. "Follow me," he says as he begins to walk in the direction of his home.
"They're alive — my wife and son," he says as they walk into his house. "At least they were when they left."
"How can you know?" Morgan walks into the dining room after Rick. "By the look of this place —" He looks around the room and shakes his head.
"I found empty drawers in the bedroom," Rick tells him. "They packed some clothes — not a lot, but enough to travel."
"You know anybody could've broken in here and stole them clothes, right?"
"You see them framed photos on the walls?" They look around the room, no framed photos. "Neither do I. Some random thief take those too, you think?" Rick walks up to a brown cabinet against the white wall, opening the left door to it. "Our photo albums, family pictures — all gone."
Morgan sets down his weapon on the dining room table with a pained smile on his face. "Photo albums," he laughed. He sits down after pulling out a chair. He moves around his left hand in the air as he talks, "my wife — same thing." He puts his hand on his thigh as he looks at the brunette standing in front of him. "There I am packing survival gear, she's grabbing photo alb..." He inhales and exhales deeply, obviously upset. Evelyn walks up behind him, placing her right hand on his right shoulder for comfort. He takes his left hand and places it on top of hers as a form of saying thank you.
