Safe haven | Rick Grimes

093. THE EXACT REASON I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO COME

Chapter ninety three

"The exact reason I didn't want you to come."

Having returned to Alexandria, the peace was short-lived. Relentless waves of walkers had been slamming against the community's walls for hours. Since Scarlett rarely slept anymore, she was already up at dawn preparing a heavy breakfast for her family.

As she slid the last of the food onto their plates, the thud of energetic footsteps echoed down the staircase. Judith, Caroline, young Daryl, and little Rick hurried into the kitchen and eagerly took their seats at the table. Scarlett quietly finished her own portion, watching them eat. Before leaving, she leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss onto the top of each child's head, anchoring herself to them before pulling Rick's heavy coat on and stepping out into the crisp morning air.

She marched across the square to find a grim assembly of leaders waiting near the armory.

"They just keep coming from the direction of the border," Aaron shared, rubbing his eyes in sheer exhaustion. "It's a constant wave, one right after another."

"This is her," Carol stated coldly, her eyes fixed on the perimeter. "Alpha's punishing us for crossing the line."

"Well, we've spent the last few months preparing for exactly this," Scarlett shared, her voice dropping into a hard, commanding register. "Let's lock it down."

The group dispersed to their tactical positions. Scarlett sprinted straight to the front gates, scaling the lookout ladder to stand guard at the perimeter. She lifted her binoculars to her eyes, her jaw setting as she focused on the horizon—a massive, undulating sea of walkers was spilling out from the tree line, heading directly toward their gates.

By nightfall, the air was thick with the foul stench of the dead and the metallic tang of blood. The entire militia stood tightly packed against the iron grates, methodically driving spears and machetes through the gaps to drop any creature that pressed too close.

The siege stretched through the dark, bleeding into the next morning, and then collapsing into yet another grueling night. Scarlett stood at the front line, her muscles burning with pure exhaustion. A massive walker slammed its weight against the gate, its snapping jaws inches from her face; Scarlett lunged forward, swinging her handaxe with lethal momentum to split its skull before kicking the heavy carcass back into the pile.

Finally, as the pale dawn of the third morning broke, the relentless scratching at the iron stopped. The wave had ended.

Exhausted and caked in grime, Scarlett dragged her boots back across the courtyard and stepped inside her quiet house. She climbed the stairs, her shoulders slumped, and pushed the door to her bedroom open.

Her heart melted a fraction at the sight before her. Spread across her mattress, completely fast asleep and tangled in the blankets, were all four of her children. They had curled up together in her bed, waiting for her to come home. Scarlett leaned heavily against the wooden doorway, a rare, quiet warmth washing over her as she watched them breathe safely.

BZZZZT.

"Scarlett, do you copy?" a man's urgent voice shattered the silence, crackling sharply through the walkie-talkie clipped to her belt.

Scarlett quickly snatched the radio to mute the volume before it could wake the kids. Backing quietly out of the room, she pulled the door shut and pressed down on the transmission button as she descended the stairs.

"Grimes, I copy," she said, her voice a flat, tired whisper.

Releasing the button, she pushed the front door open and stepped out onto the porch, ready to face whatever new crisis was waiting for her in the dirt.