𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➳ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

Chapter 5 ~ Meeting Morales

We walked along the hallway for a while before coming to a locked door. Rick assumed the guns were hidden in there and I admit, so did I. We were just about to break down the door though when a man had come barreling after us, knocking Rick to the ground. They struggled there on the floor for a while, Rick being able to throw in a few punches before inevitably, killing the stranger. I'd stood against the wall as it all went down. Rick hadn't needed my help - I knew that much.

But what neither of us knew was that...there were no guns behind that door. No, instead there was an infant, all swaddled in a light pink blanket - the room so very much akin to the nursery I'd found Winnie in months ago when Carl and I had broken in here. There was a sea of regret in those ice-blue eyes as we trudged on, leaving the crying baby behind as we continued our search for the weapons cache. It wasn't his fault. I know deep down he knew that but still, I could see he blamed himself. He'd just murdered the child's father and I knew, I just knew he was thinking of Judith and Carl.

We made our way down the hallway now into what looked like an office of some sort, the both of us just walking on in complete silence. Rick pushed open one of the doors with a quiet squeak as we stepped inside the seemingly-empty room. What once was an office now looked to be someone's living quarters - a man perhaps. Most likely one of Negan's Saviors, I'm sure. None of his captives were treated to this kind of boarding. I bit my lip and flicked my eyes to the floor.

Dad had already told me stories of how badly he'd been treated here. I made my way over to a chair in the corner, sitting down right on the worn cushion as Rick walked over to the nightstand by the bed. Gently, he picked up a picture and his eyebrows turned down in confusion. Slowly, I got up from where I'd sat and walked up behind him, peering over his shoulder down at the faded photograph in his hand. I frowned when I saw the expression of recognition on his face as he cursed under his breath.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up, startling the both of us, "Keep your hands down. Turn around slow,"

I glanced up to see a middle-aged Hispanic man, probably close to Rick's age, holding us at gunpoint. His hair was short and jet-black with dark brown eyes set in a round face. Rick's blue eyes widened when he finally caught a glimpse of the man, shock registering on his face.

"Hi, Rick," the stranger scowled at him.

My eyebrows hit my hairline and my mouth formed a small 'o'. So they DID know each other then.

"Your name...is Morales... You were in Atlanta," Rick spoke slowly, his eyes clouding over only slightly as he remembered.

I thought back then to that city I grew up in, not having thought about it in years but stayed silent as they talked, not making any sudden movements.

"That was a long time ago. It's over, Rick," he told him, scowling as he held up a walkietalkie, "I called the Saviors back,"

That didn't scare me in the slightest. But the next words that he spoke made my blood run cold - those three little words making my stomach twist in anxiety.

"And they're coming."