The Walking Dead: The Shane Walsh Alternative (Season 1)

Sheriff's Department: Part I

On the way to the sheriff's department, I think about telling Lori how close that geek had gotten to biting me, but I don't. I know that this is the world that we live in now. I know that those situations are bound to repeat themselves. I know that if I tell Lori, she'll be overly concerned, and try to talk me out of doing necessary supply runs. I can't have that happen.

"Hey Lor, did Rick ever show you how to use a gun?" I look at Lori and she shakes her head. "Well it's about time you learn, Carl too." I tell her. "No! Just me! My son will not carry a gun!" She responds sternly. "Lor just hear me out. If everyone had guns back at our camp, with my training, Amy might still be alive. Same for Jacqui, Ed, and Jim. There's a lot more geeks out there than there is us. We need to be able to protect ourselves. What if something happens to me? Who's gonna--" I'm cut off by Lori's hand grabbing my leg. "Stop. Just stop. I don't wanna think about losing anyone else, especially you." She says with a caring smile on her face. I smile back at her before noticing that we're pulling up to the sheriff's department.

I stop the Jeep directly outside of the door. I give Lori a kiss and tell her to go to the RV with Carl. As I step out of the car and see my former place of employment, I again start thinking about my partner Rick. I can only imagine how Lori and Carl are feeling right now. Glenn, T-Dog, and Andrea naturally gather around me. Andrea asks "What's the plan?". Does she really think shes coming? "You're gonna sit this one out. Gaurd the RV with Dale." I answer. "I'm a good shot--" She begins, before I cut her off "That's why I want you at the RV. 'Sides, there won't be any shootin'." I take her gently by the wrist and lead her off to the side. "I can't imagine how you feel right now. I know you're a good shot, you've got nothing to prove. Sit this one out. Please." Her eyes begin to water. She lowers her head and walks briskly towards the RV. She's still visibly shaken by the loss of Amy. I can't let her go into a possible combat scenario with her emotions running so high.

I rejoin Glenn and T-Dog to go over the design of the department. "When I left here the day this all started, there was another deputy here, Leon. He wanted to stay. I doubt he's still here now but, me and him took out quite a few geeks on the inside, and by the looks of it activity on the outside is pretty scarce. We can probly go in undetected, do things quietly." I suggest. With my unit's approval, we approach the side entrance.

As I near the door, I notice a geek on the other side of the fence. "Guess he is still here." It's Leon. No. It was Leon. Now he's a walking flesh sack, filled with death. "He don't deserve this." I say as I walk towards the fence with my combat knife ready. "Sorry brother." I put the knife through it's skull, and it slumps slowly to the ground along the fence. I open the door and we cautiously head inside.

It's quiet, and seemingly empty. We creep forward, staying in formation. Halfway to the armory now, and it's still quiet. I whistle lightly and listen for movement. Nothing. Still quiet. As we near the door to the armory, despite the almost certainly uninhabited department, I insist that we move with caution. I knock on the door and put my ear up against it to listen for any movement inside. Nothing. "Okay, we're goin' in." Glenn and T-Dog nod, and ready their weapons. I put my right hand on the doorknob, and count down from 3 with my left hand. When my count hits zero I spring the door open, ready for anything that may be inside. No geeks. Just tons of weapons and ammo. "Woooo. Jackpot boys!"

It looks mostly untouched. Seems just personal weapons are missing. I tell Glenn and T-Dog to go tell everyone to come inside. As they leave the room I gather all of the weapons onto a table in the center of the room. By my count, we have eleven handguns, 3 rifles, 600 shotguns, and about 800 rounds of ammunition. Then I notice it. Out of the corner of my eye, Rick's lock box, unopened. I put in the combination on the lock and pop it open. Inside is Rick's .357 Colt Python. I can hear the group coming towards me. I conceal Rick's weapon in the back of my pants, under my shirt, and walk back to the plethora of weapons on the table, just as they enter the room.