Wow. I'm surprised at the response this one is getting. Hope I can keep y'all interested.
Dec 10, 2010 The only real difference between a 2.4 S and a 2.7 RS are larger pistons and a different space cam in the MFI pump — that and the incredible sound. The dash was cracked, the carpet and upholstery faded. Looking around the interior today, there are more NOS parts than you can shake. 911 Shape Shifter. From RS 2.7 to RSR 2.8 to 993 GT2.
Oh, and while I'm at it, I might as well ask if anyone is planning on heading to the WinchestMidwest Con in June? Maybe I'll see you there :)
Present Day
Sam opened his eyes as soon as he heard the door close. It was the third time that week that Dean had snuck out after dark, and Sam was starting to wonder where he was going. When he came back he didn't smell of beer or smoke, so it wasn't a bar. He didn't smell like popcorn, so it wasn't a late-night movie. In fact, he didn't smell like anything but Dean. It didn't make sense.
So, Sam had decided to do something about it. He threw back the covers and slipped into his shoes, fully intent upon following his brother into the night. Honestly, he wouldn't have been so suspicious if time wasn't growing so thin, if they had more than a month. It wasn't like he thought that Dean was trying to break the deal- he would never do that- but the older man was up to something, and he wanted to know exactly what that something was.
He pulled open the door and gazed out into the night. Crickets chirped in the darkness as he headed out across the parking lot, following the retreating figure of his big brother. He concentrated on his footsteps, trying to keep them as quiet as possible, trying to stay unnoticed.
He followed Dean across the parking lot and into a field before the older man finally ducked into what might have counted for a forest in the rural area. It was just a small patch of tress, but it was dense enough and dark enough that Sam lost the older man.
Leaves crackled around him, he heard the sound of a bag unzipping, and then heard more footsteps. Straining his ears, Sam tried to follow them out, tried to find his brother again.
The forest ended at the side of a road. Across the street, Sam could see a poorly lit playground, complete with slide, swingset, and jungle gym. One of the swings was moving in the darkness, creaking ominously back and forth in the still night air. The sound sent chills down his spine and raised the hair on the back of his neck, but he followed it, nonetheless.
Ducking down behind an old oak tree, Sam gazed across the playground to the swingset. A small boy sat on one of the cracked blue seats, slowly pumping his legs back and forth, causing the swing to move up and down, up and down.
Sam scoured the playground, looking for Dean, but couldn't see him. There was only that single little kid, swinging back and forth. Sighing, Sam decided to head back to the room. Maybe Dean had known that he'd been followed, maybe he'd used to forest to confuse his brother.
He almost left, but couldn't quite bring himself to. After all, it was dark, and late, and starting to get chilly. The kid was all alone, and any number of things could happen to unsupervised children in the night. He stood up and crossed the street, heading for the playground, intent on taking the kid home.
The small boy didn't seem to notice the man walking toward him. Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes as he approached the boy. The kid seemed familiar somehow, like he should have known him. Long blond hair flew back in the slight breeze as he swung, little legs bowing out and away from each other at the knees, wide grin planted firmly in place.
He reached the park and opened his mouth to talk to the kid when he was spotted. Tiny sneakers hit the dirt hard, stalling the swing as the boy looked over at Sam with fear in his wide, hazel eyes. And Sam figured it out. 'Dean?'
The kid jumped from the swing and ran, arms pumping, toward the road, taking a different route back to the motel. If that was even where he was going. For all Sam knew, it was just another kid, one who bore a slight resemblance to his brother. That was what he told himself as he headed back to the room, cutting through the forest. It wasn't Dean. It couldn't be Dean.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Dean was waiting for him when he got back, sitting on the bed, his hands clasped in front of him, arms resting on his knees, head down, and looking all of his twenty-nine years. He barely even glanced up as Sam walked through the door. 'Hey.'
'Hey.'
The silence was strained. 'I suppose you want to know-'
'Was it you?'
Dean looked up at him, as if trying to decide what to say to that, trying to decide whether to lie or tell the truth. He nodded back toward the door, to the chair that sat beside it, the chair that now housed a small sweatshirt, jeans, and a pair of dirty white sneakers. 'You tell me.'
Sam blinked, unable to think of anything else to do. 'How?'
The older man just grinned, a dry grin, devoid of all humor and emotion. 'I wasn't gonna tell you. Thought you'd hate me.' He shook his head. 'Guess I'm not gonna have to worry about it in another month, though, so what the Hell? Damned if I do, damned if I don't.'
'What are you talking about?'
He licked his lips. 'I'm not exactly… human.' His eyes fell back to the floor as Sam sat down hard on the edge of his own bed.
'What are you talking about? Of course you're human. If you weren't human, dad would have-'
'He tried,' Dean said, his voice sounding almost mechanical, as if he were in shock, 'he tried to tell me. He told me. Said that things like me were monsters. I mean, he never actually said that he knew, but he did. I got too cocky and he found out. I got too selfish… he said that's what makes us bad. The selfishness.'
'You're the least selfish person I know,' Sam reasoned, 'you sold your soul for me.'
Dean shrugged. 'I tried to fight it. Nature, you know? I thought that it might just go away if I did. But it didn't. You left, and dad left, but it didn't. I can still do it. I'm still a monster.'
'You're not a monster.'
'We hunt things like me,' he said, finally looking back up at Sam, his eyes shining. 'All the time. In St. Louis. In Milwaukee.'
Sam swallowed hard. 'You saying what I think you're saying?' Dean nodded. 'You're a-'
'Yeah.' He dropped his eyes again. 'Always have been, I guess.'
Sam looked around the room, at the pile of small clothes on the chair, at his brother, at everything. 'You don't shed.'
Dean snorted out something that must have been intended as a laugh. 'Yeah. Never got why I didn't. Doesn't matter, though. Doesn't change anything. I'm still a monster.'
'You're not a monster,' Sam reiterated, sliding off his own bed to sit beside his brother, close enough that their shoulders were touching, knowing from experience that proximity was needed for these little supernatural confessionals.
'Dad said-'
'Dad lied.'
'Yeah, I know.'
Sam let the statement slide, figuring that he could try to bring it up later. This was a rare burst of honesty, one that had hit him so hard and so fast that his brain was having trouble processing it all. Dean was implying that he was a shape-shifter, that he was a monster, that he was selfish.
'How long?' he finally asked, breaking the silence.
Dean shrugged, finally looking back up at him. 'I think I was about nine when I figured it out. Dad was still pissed about the shtriga thing, and I was taking it pretty hard. Some kids at school were making fun of me, too. I had this gap in my teeth.' He shook his head. 'I kept thinking that they'd like me if it was gone, you know? I just kept thinking about that, and then one day I looked in the mirror to brush my teeth and it wasn't there anymore.'
Sam grinned. 'You fixed your teeth?'
Dean nodded, trying on a smile of his own, one that finally touched his eyes as he realized that Sam and his father were two completely different people. 'And my ears. And my hair. Remember those cheap-o haircuts dad always made us get? I pulled a Harry Potter.'
'That's it?'
'There might have been more. You think looks this awesome come naturally? It's a slow process, perfecting the human form. Years of asking women what they want and then putting the knowledge to good use.'
Sam cocked an eyebrow. 'You changed yourself for women?'
'Get your mind outta the gutter. Some things don't need changing.'
The younger man grinned. 'So, what do you really look like?'
'Honestly?' Dean asked, the good-hearted smile finally fading from his face. 'I'm not sure anymore. Don't even think I want to know.' He looked back down at the floor. 'That guy was never really good enough for anyone.'
Sam noted the hint of sadness in his brother's voice, the aversion of the eyes, and knew that he'd inadvertently struck a chord. 'So,' he said, hoping to change the subject, 'you ever become someone else?'
Dean's head shot up, his eyes wide, scared. 'Are you kidding? That's wrong. Only the worst-'
'Could you?' Sam questioned, hoping for a better subject change.
'Probably. But I wouldn't. It's not exactly a nice thing to do, you know, stealing someone's body.'
'I won't tell.'
The eyes went down again. 'I can't.'
'Why not?'
'I kinda promised dad-'
'Dad's not here right now.' He paused, thinking. 'I thought you said you'd never done it before.' Dean didn't look at him. 'What did you do?'
'It was an experiment,' the older man finally whispered, breaking a long silence. 'A kid finds out he can change anything about himself, you think he's just gonna go around fixing one thing at a time? He's gonna go for the whole package.'
'Who'd you become?'
Sam was starting to get worried that his brother might get whiplash from turning his head so fast, so often. 'You. I became you.' He paused, let it sink in. 'I just wanted to see if I could, at first. But then I looked in the mirror and saw you staring back and thought that I might be able to have some fun. I got selfish.'
'What did you do?' Sam asked, unable to think of any time in his past that there had been two of him walking around.
'I tricked dad. I made him think I was you. I used to have nightmares sometimes, and I just wanted him to tell me that they weren't real, but he never did. He just told me not to be scared of them.' He sighed. 'He told you they weren't real, though.'
'What are you talking about?'
'I used to change in the bedroom, take your clothes, find dad, and he made everything better. He told me not to be afraid. He said that he loved me.' He swallowed. 'And then one night I had a nightmare and I went to him, and I fell asleep. I'd never fallen back to sleep before. I always went back into the room so dad wouldn't know. I woke up the next morning in my bed and I still looked like you. Dad had a talk about shape-shifters with me that day.'
'And he told you that you were a monster?'
'Not in so many words. He implied it. Said those things started out human but changed. They got selfish and they got mean and they killed people. They eliminated the competition.'
Sam shook his head. 'That's not you.'
'Yeah, because he warned me.'
'No, man. It never would have been you. You're not like that.'
'There but for the grace of God-'
'You're not evil. Not any more than I am.'
That shut him up. He sighed, finally pulling his eyes from Sam, staring across the room at the wall. 'Why do you think it freaked me out so much when that thing stole my face? It was me. Freaky evil powers and all.'
Sam blinked. 'Your eyes don't flare.'
'Yeah, never figured that one out.'
'You don't shed.'
'Nope. Hypoallergenic.'
Sammy shook his head. 'You're not like those things, then. Maybe you're not even really a shifter.'
Dean smirked. 'Dude, I just got back from being a five-year-old. I think I'm a shifter.'
'Why were you out there, anyway?'
The older man shrugged. 'Making up for lost time? When we were kids, you always wanted to go to the parks and play. Dad said we had to stay in the rooms. I'd take you and watch you like a hawk, remember?'
'Yeah. You sat on the benches and watched.'
Dean nodded. 'And you never got hurt. Dad never found out.'
'You never got to have any fun.'
'Had fun tonight.' He grinned, standing up and stretching. He moved over to the chair and grabbed the little boy clothes, rolling them up and stuffing them in his duffle bag.
Sam watched him, following him with his eyes, one question burning in his mind, escaping from his mouth before he could stop it. 'You gonna show me?'
Dean stopped, straightening up and turning to look at his brother with amused eyes. 'Maybe tomorrow.'
Disclaimer: Own nothing. At all. Well technically I own a car. But I don't drive on roads. I only drive through houses. It's my brother's car.
Warnings and Notes: M for language, zombies, yucky zombie related stuff, and light sexual non-porny scenes much, much later on. Gays, lesbians, straights. Also major character death. Animal shifters and zombies. Basically a retelling of the entire series with mostly everyone as shifters. Kind of a cross between shifters and weres, actually. Only shift into one animal but can do so at will, having nothing to do with moon cycles. Also, they have tails in their human forms. Because Rick with a doggy tail is hot. Will sort of follow the TV show, with a few things changed and left out. Also, first Walking Dead story and first shifter story. Also, I hate Lori. Oh so much. If I could rip her to shreds in the first chapter, I would. But then there would be no Lil' Asskicker. And that would make Daryl sad. So yes. Lori bashing.
Pairings: Eventually Rick/Daryl. Mentions of Rick/Lori, Shane/Lori, Daryl/Carol, Michonne/Andrea. Glenn/Maggie, of course.
The Walking Dead: The Shifting Dead
Episode 1: Days Gone Bye
Episode 1: Days Gone Bye
'Lori wants a divorce.' He said it out loud. For the first time. He put it out there, into the world. He couldn't take it back. Not now. Not ever again. He leaned back against the seat and stared up at the roof of the police cruiser they were sitting in. They'd been on break, catching a quick bite to eat before something tore them away. He hadn't really meant to blurt it out like that. It just came out. And he couldn't take it back now.
The man beside him, his best friend and partner for near his whole life, Shane, looked over at him. He swallowed the french-fry he's been chewing on and frowned but didn't look surprised. 'She tell you that?' He asked slowly. Real slowly.
Rick wondered briefly if Lori had told Shane, if they had discussed the matter. If so, why hadn't Shane warned him? They were friends, brothers. Rick pushed the feeling away. Shane was his friend, his brother. He wouldn't keep something like that from him. Besides, they'd never been the most... friendly with each other. Back in high school, Lori downright hated him. She only tolerated him as much as she did because she didn't have a choice.
'No, not exactly.' Rick said. 'I got home last night earlier than I told her I'd be. I wasn't trying to sneak in 'er anything... but… she didn't hear me… she was on the phone with someone in the kitchen… a friend, her mother… a fucking lawyer for all I know.' He mumbled and shook his head. 'But she was asking about filing for divorce. How long it would take and how much money. And then about fighting for custody.' He sighed and shook his head. 'Fighting, Shane! For custody! I just… I don't understand! I don't know what I did to make her hate me so much.'
Shane shook his head quickly. 'Nah, man. She doesn't hate you.'
Rick glanced over at him. 'She wants a divorce and she wants to take my pup from me.' He snapped. 'Certainly sounds like she hates me.'
'You don't know the whole story.' Shane shook his head again, picking at the fries. 'She could have been talking to anyone about anything.'
Rick let out a sharp, bitter laugh. 'Kind of hard to miss the words divorce and custody.'
Shane pushed it. 'She could have been asking for a friend.'
Rick rolled his eyes and would have argued more but a voice came over their radio. Emergency assistance requested. He didn't get the change to question his wife.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Eyes fluttered open, blinking in the bright light filtering in the window. Momentarily, eyes and brain weren't working together. They weren't connecting correctly. His eyes saw the stark light, the dying flowers, the dead monitors. His ears as well weren't connecting. Voices around him he's been hearing echoed like they were still buzzing around him. His brain showed him his partner and he heard the man laugh, some joke about work.
He let out his own sharp laugh, a raspy cough following. His throat was weak, his voice unused. 'Yeah and last year, when you showed up to the station's Halloween party all wolfed out and dropped that bloody… bone…' His eyes finally began to focus on his surroundings correctly. Alone. He was alone. Hadn't he... didn't he just…
He turned his head, craning his neck. 'Shane?' He called out loudly. 'You takin' a piss or something'?' He didn't get an answer. 'Shane?' He stilled and strained his ears. All they brought him was silence. He waited a few more minutes before hitting his call button. 'Nurse!' He croaked out. 'Nurse help!' Nothing.
His eyes shifted again and he noticed the monitors, the machines helping to keep him alive… weren't. No beeping, whirling, anything. He moved to sit up and something stopped him. He looked over. His right wrist was shackled to a metal bar on the bed. Thick, heavy iron cuffs, specially made for those like him. They were tight and bit into skin. It ached from where the iron touched him. He frowned at them. He rolled on his right side and felt along the bar. It wiggled a bit as he pulled on it. It wasn't the most stable. Temporary? Was it some cautionary thing? Something to keep him from getting up? Possibly from hurting himself more?
His fingers grazed over something and he twisted it. He twisted it again and the loose screw loosened more. A few more turns and he pulled it away. He let it fall and slipped the cuffs from the bar. He rubbed at his wrist where the metal was touching him. The pain wasn't terrible, just annoying. The iron reacted with his skin, made it impossible for him to shift, not that he even thought he could in his condition.
Gingerly, he pulled himself up, staggering a bit. He leaned against the bed, trying to get his bearings. He took a deep breath and staggered to the door. He leaned against it for a moment, catching his breath. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the door and closed his eyes. His tail drooped. He could smell the stale air, sense the emptiness behind the door. Some dream… some bad dream he needed to wake up from.
He pushed off the door and grabbed the knob. He pulled it open and pushed the stretcher blocking it out of the way. He stumbled down the hall and the stench of death hit him. He coughed and covered his mouth. A noise behind him, a groan, and he spun around. A girl sat on the floor, a blood splatter on the wall behind her head. It looked like she'd been shot. Blood and dirt clung to her. Her eyes were hollow and her skin… Rick swallowed the bile rising in his throat. And then she turned her head towards him and lifted her decaying arms. Rick's eyes widened and he stumbled back. She was alive? How was she alive?
Another groan behind him and there was another one. Rick bit back a scream and pushed past them, trying not to touch them. He came to the end of the hall and the doors were barricaded. The sign above read Cafeteria. But on the doors, the words, DON'T OPEN DEAD INSIDE were spray painted on. As he stood there, staring at the door, long gray fingers slipped between the doors, trying to grab at the thick chain and padlock.
Rick staggered back and turned down another hall. After a few minutes, he finally reached the entrance and staggered out. The sun was bright and warm on his skin. He blinked and lifted his hand to shield his eyes. The parking lot was full of… he turned away. He didn't want to see that. All the bodies… head down, he hurried down the road. He slowed a bit as he cut across a small park.
She was lying on her stomach, reaching for him. Just a torso, her spinal column and intestines dragging along the ground behind her. Rick bit back the impulse to vomit, even though he doubted anything would come out.
He hurried along the road, as fast as he could. He slowed as he tired, rested for a moment, and set off again. He never stopped long. Every time he did those things…
He shivered involuntarily and let out a huge sigh. His house loomed in front of him. It looked perfect, like the last time he'd seen it. He ran through the yard and leapt up on the porch. The front door was left unlocked and he ripped it open. 'Carl? Lori?'
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
The day he met Lori was the day his and Shane's school was closed down and every kid in their small town was bused to the high school in the next town over. Actually, Lori was the first human Rick had ever met. He had never left the small town he and Shane had grown up in before then. It was a small shifter only town and his parents had been wary of humans, for good reasons they told him. Rick had grown up hearing horror stories from his grandpa. His grandpa would turn around, show him the ragged stump, and tell him the story of how a group of humans had cut off his tail. Humans were horrible, awful creatures who would shoot him as soon as they saw his tail.
Rick never thought himself a coward. But that first day the bus drove up to the human high school, he slouched down in his seat, afraid to look out the window at the humans. Shane, on the other hand, was excited. He moment the bus stopped, he grabbed Rick's hand and pulled him from his seat of safety and pushed him forward. Rick wanted to open his mouth and ask that if Shane was so excited, why wasn't he the one going first? But he didn't want to admit that he was scared to his fearless friend.
'That's the shifter bus, isn't it?' An excited female voice filtered in as they neared the door.
'Lori! Don't get too close! They're dangerous!' A second female said. Rick rolled his eyes and bit his lip.
'They look so normal!' A third said. 'How can we tell the difference?'
'Don't you pay attention in biology?' The first voice, she'd been called Lori, said. 'They all have tails. Like dogs.'
Rick bristled, the fur on his tail standing straight up. They didn't all have tails! They weren't all dogs! And they weren't all dangerous! Who the fuck was this human who… He stomped down the stairs of the bus, glaring. And he saw her.
Dark hair, dark eyes, she was standing a few feet away. She held her books against her chest and she smiled widely. Her two friends had fled the moment Rick appeared in the doorway. But she remained. 'Hi!' She stepped forward and thrust her hand out towards him. 'I'm Lori.'
Rick stared at her for a moment. Then he slowly and cautiously took her hand. 'Rick.' He said softly. Shane cleared his throat behind him and Rick smiled. 'This is my friend, Shane.'
Lori glanced around him at Shane for a moment. 'Hi.' Then she turned her attention back to Rick. 'We have 20 minutes before classes start. Can I show you around?'
Rick nodded slowly. 'Yeah. That'd be… fine.'
'Great!' She shifted her books over to her left arm and reached for his arm with her right. 'So… Rick… you're the first shifter I've met.'
He laughed. 'You're the first human I've met.'
'Really?' She pulled up and turned towards him. 'How's that possible?'
Rick shrugged and looked down. 'I ain't ever left home.'
She nodded slowly. 'So… do you… can I… see it?' She was trying to be polite. Her eyes where always on his, she never looked down or tried to get behind him. And he instantly liked her for it. He shrugged and turned slightly. His brown and black tail curled up but was still, a bit nervous. 'That is so cool!' She squealed. His tail wagged a bit and she giggled and he turned back around, a slight blush creeping up his neck. And she giggled again. 'It wagged like a dog's!' She said with a squeal. 'It's cute. What is it?'
Rick was about to answer happily when Shane stomped forward. 'It…' He snapped, clearly way more offended than Rick was. 'Is a German Shepherd. HE is a German Shepherd. Not an it.'
'Shane!' Rick snapped, pushing his friend back.
Lori glared at him. 'And what are you? An asshole dog?'
'Wolf.' Shane growled.
If Lori was the least bit intimidated, she didn't show it. She turned back to Rick and they started walking again. 'So a German Shepherd? Like a domestic pet?'
'Pet?' Shane was still behind them, still riled up.
'Yes.' Rick said quickly, trying to cut Shane off. He tried to keep his voice calm and level, tried to keep all his attention on Lori. Ignoring Shane was an easy way to diffuse him. 'Like a pet one. Just… bigger. And… sort of smarter.'
'I didn't know shifters came in domesticated animals.' Lori said, sounding genuinely interested. 'All they teach us is about wolves.' She inclined her head back a bit, gesturing to Shane.
Rick laughed. 'It's because wolves are the loudest.'
'Fuck you!' Shane growled.
'The wolf gene is usually more dominate.' Rick continued on, ignoring his friend for the moment. 'So yeah, wolves are more common among the mammal shifters.'
She nodded and went on. 'So both your parents were domesticated then? Shepherds?'
Rick shook his head. 'Mom is. Dad's wolf. It happens sometimes. It's rare.' He shrugged. 'Just got the short end of the stick.'
Her smile widened. 'I don't think so.'
She was something new, something different and unexpected. Something exotic. And Rick fell hard. Lori was his life, his everything. And she was fascinated by everything about him, his family, his culture. They got married as soon as they could and Lori gave birth to a son. And that tiny puppy became Rick's life, his everything. And slowly, Lori began pulling away. Rick didn't want to think it was jealousy. How could a mom be jealous of her pup? But she was just always pissed at him. He never did anything right anymore.
'Talk.' She said one night after their son, Carl, had gone to bed.
Rick had returned from a late night at work. It had been a long, bad day. He was beyond exhausted. He just wanted to lie down and sink into the mattress and sleep for days. He turned to her, saw the anger in her eyes, and turned away quickly. He rubbed at his forehead and sighed. 'Not now, Lori. Please.' He didn't hide the begging in his voice.
'No!' She snapped. 'You won't talk to me. All I hear from you is later.'
He sighed and shook his head. 'It's been a long day.'
'Rick! You stupid dog!' She hissed under her breath.
His tail twitched, irritated for a moment, then it stilled and drooped. He was too exhausted to fight with her.
But she wasn't. She threw up her arms and stepped closer to him. 'Talk, yell, scream, call me a bitch if I'm being one. Just something!'
'Mom? Dad?'
Rick looked up as Carl appeared in the doorway. Damn her for yelling and waking him up. Rick offered his son a small smile. 'Everything's fine.' He said with a nod. 'Go back to bed.'
Lori shook her head. 'Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all.'
Rick's eyes widened and he glared at her. She looked from Rick to Carl and her own eyes widened, like she hadn't meant to say it out loud. He shook his head, turned his back on her, and reached out to Carl. He patted his son on the head and spun him around. 'Back to bed.'
Carl latched onto his arm tightly.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
He turned and stepped back outside and fell to the ground. Their house was empty. Carl… Lori… everyone. He'd woken up to some nightmare… He heard a gunshot and turned around. His eyes widened as he saw the kid. 'Carl?' And then everything suddenly went black.
It didn't last for long. A few minutes, maybe more. And then he was opening his eyes again and there was a man in his face. 'Were you bit?' The man asked forcefully.
Rick blinked. He was having trouble focusing on the man bending down in front of him. He tried to lift his hand and found both tied to the headboard of the bed he was in. Damnit. Cuffed again. He let out a sigh and blinked again.
'I'mma give you one more chance to answer me.' The man practically spat at him. 'Were you bit?'
'Bit?' Rick repeated.
'Your wound.' He said. 'What's your wound? Were you bit?'
Rick shook his head. 'No, I wasn't bit. I got shot.'
'Shot.' The man repeated. 'That all?'
Rick nodded. 'I just got shot.'
The man tilted his head, peering at him. 'You mind if I look?'
Rick wasn't in any position to say no. He shrugged and laid his head back down on the pillow. He remained still except for the occasionally irritated twitch of his tail.
The unknown man began peeling back his bandage. After thoroughly checking the wound, he moved on to check Rick's legs, feet, arms, back, everywhere. The man pulled back. He let out a sigh and cocked a small smile. Relief. 'You can't be too careful anymore.' He pulled a knife out of his pocket. 'You uh… you try anything, I won't hesitate to kill you.'
Rick watched him and nodded slightly.
The man bent forward and cut the ropes from his wrist. 'Sorry, couldn't get the cuffs off.'
Rick rolled on his side, hugging his wrists to his chest. He rubbed where the metal touched his skin again. 'I don't doubt it.' Rick mumbled out. 'Police issue. Not supposed to come off easy.'
The man let out a laugh and leaned back against the wall. 'No, guess not. Name's Morgan. My son you met briefly, Duane.'
'Rick.' He offered, rolling over and sitting up.
'So Rick.' The name named Morgan sat back, settling down. 'You don't seem like you know what's going on.'
Rick shrugged. He didn't. 'I woke up in the hospital.' He said slowly.
Morgan nodded. 'You've seen the dead people?'
Rick nodded.
Morgan shook his head. 'Not just the ones they put down. The ones that came back.'
Rick glanced sideways at him. 'That man you shot?'
Morgan narrowed his eyes and shook his head. 'That wasn't a man.'
'I knew him.' Rick said softly. 'He lived down the street.'
'Before, maybe. But not anymore. Wasn't a man. Was a walker.'
Walker. Rick ran a hand through his hair. 'What… what happened?'
Morgan stared at him a moment. He glanced down at Rick's tail. 'It started with the shifters.' He looked back up to meet Rick's eyes. 'A strain of the rabies virus, they said. Reports of shifters shifting an' eating people. So they started rounding up shifters, thinking it was some disease only passed between shifters until the first humans began falling too. Then suddenly, everyone was trying to eat each other and… it just escalated. It was chaos.' He shivered and shook his head. 'Before the broadcasting stopped, they said head to Atlanta. Big refugee center there, where the military was headed. Said the CDC was working on a way to fix this. Everyone was packing up to head there…'
Rick glanced down at the handcuff still on his wrist. He'd spent half his life protecting people, trying to do right for the shifter and human communities alike and risking his life. But… he sighed. He couldn't really fault them. At least he was only cuffed.
Morgan continued on. 'We didn't attack you because you're… Duane, my boy… he took you out with that shovel because he thought you were one of the dead… not because…'
Rick smiled. 'I got a tail?'
Morgan nodded. 'Terrible things were done to the shifters they rounded up. But I ain't like that. I mean… I'm human. I ain't a shifter. But I ain't like that. They ain't ever done anything to me.'
Rick nodded slowly. His eyes drifted to the doorway. He could hear the boy in the other room, could smell him. 'But your boy is.'
Morgan stiffened for a moment, just for a moment. Then he quickly nodded and visibly relaxed. 'Yeah, he is.'
'Wolf.' Rick said.
Morgan sighed and nodded. 'Didn't mean to try and hide it. Just…'
Rick nodded, understanding. 'You have to protect your pup.'
Morgan nodded again. 'Yeah. He's all I have left now that…' He stopped and looked away. 'My wife… we were on our way to Atlanta. And she… it was fast. It was so fast. She got bit and the fever… it was so fast. An' after… I couldn't leave her like that but I couldn't… I couldn't do it...'
A car alarm suddenly started blaring. Rick jumped up, Morgan followed. 'It's alright. Just one of them getting too close. Happened a few nights ago.'
Duane ran into the room, immediately going to the lanterns and turning them off.
Rick edged closer to the window and pressed against it. He looked out and saw the flashing lights. Morgan and Duane crowded in to look as well. And Duane gasped. 'She's back!' Morgan immediately pulled him from the window and drug him towards the bed. Duane fell against the pillow, unable to stop the cries wracking his small frame. Morgan bent over him, rubbing his back in slow circles.
Rick moved towards the door as he heard the scraping getting closer. He looked out the peephole and saw the rotting corpse in the nightgown. She stepped closer to the door and Rick suddenly saw Lori. He wondered if he'd be able to do it. If he'd seen her rotted corpse reaching for him… her blackened, bloodied teeth snapped at him… or Carl… he stopped himself there. He blinked his eyes and turned around. He wouldn't let himself imagine Carl…
Duane's whimpering had tapered off and Morgan sighed. 'The sound draws them in. Shouldn't have fired that gun. They get more active at night. The cool air or somethin'.'
They were silent for a moment. Duane shifted and opened his eyes. 'Did you ask him dad?'
Morgan laughed. 'We got this bet going. You being shot and the handcuffs, my boys says you're a bank robber.'
Rick laughed and smiled. 'Yeah, that's me.' He shook his head. 'Sheriff's Deputy.'
Morgan's eyes widened. 'A cop? Never known any shifter cops.'
Rick shrugged. 'Ain't no laws that say we can't be.'
'I didn't mean…'
Rick smiled. 'I know. My partner and I… we were the only ones in the academy. Everyone wanted us out but no one had the balls to do anything about it. We were the best and… we had to fight for everything.'
They talked for a while. Morgan asked more about his partner and their academy days. Then he asked about the name Carl and Rick told him. Eventually they all fell into a restless sleep.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
The next morning, after some more convincing that these 'Walkers' were indeed dead, Morgan showed Rick how to take them down. 'Take out the brain.' The man said. 'Anywhere else, they just keep coming. Has to be the brain.'
Rick felt sick to his stomach after beating that first one down with the baseball bat. Sure, he had killed people before, gunned down dangerous criminals. But that was out of duty, justice, his job. And a few times, self defense. But this… this felt different. He could tell himself it was a form of self defense. But still… He collected himself and marched towards his house. 'They're alive, my kid and wife.' He said over his shoulder as Morgan and Duane followed him inside.
Morgan pulled up and looked doubtful. 'How do you know?'
Rick pointed to the walls. 'The pictures. Anyone breaking in to scavenge wouldn't take pictures.'
Morgan let out a sharp laugh and leaned against the wall. 'Pictures. Same thing. My wife, she's grabbing photo albums while I'm grabbing survival gear.' Morgan shook his head, obviously lost in memories.
Rick made a quick round of the house again. Still no one. But clothes were gone. Food too. It looked like Lori had packed a bag. He headed back to where Morgan and Duane were sitting. 'You said Atlanta.'
Morgan nodded. 'That's where everyone was headed. I bet that's where your wife and pup went.'
Rick headed into the kitchen and grabbed a set of keys. Twenty minutes later, he was unlocking the doors to the police station. He led Morgan and Duane in without hesitation. He finally was able to rid himself of the irritating handcuffs, tossing them angrily to the ground. He rubbed at his freed wrist and the three of them headed back to the showers. They all enjoyed the hot water still left and Rick had laughed as Duane danced around under the spray. He shaved quickly and finally started to look like himself again. They dressed quickly and Rick raided the weapons locker.
'You pull the trigger, you have to mean it.' He said to the young wolf pup. 'Always remember that.'
'Yes, sir.' Duane said with a serious nod.
Rick packed a bag for himself and helped Morgan gather some things as well. On their way out, Rick tried again to convince them to come with him. But Morgan declined. He needed time to practice and teach Duane… and to work up the courage to put his wife down. 'Take this.' Rick said, handing him a radio walkie. 'I'll turn it on everyday at dawn for a few minutes. That's how we'll find each other when you leave.'
'You're a good man, Rick. Dog or not.'
Rick smiled as he climbed into his police cruiser and set off. He drove for a little while in complete silence. Then he flipped on his radio and turned to the emergency frequency. 'Broadcasting on emergency channel. On highway 85 heading to Atlanta. If you can hear my voice, please respond.' He repeated himself several times every few minutes until the signs over him read Atlanta. He slowed the car and pulled to a stop. A military vehicle was blocking half the road. He stepped out of the car slowly and opened the back door long enough to grab the gun bag.
'Hello?' He called out and got no response. He pulled out his gun and held it up ready as he slowly inched towards the large vehicle. He peered in and found it empty. Nothing. Rick breathed out and there was a scratching behind him. He spun around, his gun up again. The last thing he was expecting to see was the trio of dogs staring at him. Two large Rottweilers and a short bulldog. They were scruffy and filthy.
Rick lowered his gun and slipped it back into its holster. He shifted the gun bag slightly as he bent forward a bit. He narrowed his eyes, let out a growl, and stared the dogs down. All three immediately sunk down, touching their bellies to the ground. They rolled over, baring their necks and bellies submissively. Rick smiled as he straightened up. 'Up.' He said and the dogs scrambled back up. 'Come on. I could use the company.' He turned and skirted around the road block, the dogs a step behind him.
He turned down the block and stopped. Something loud caught his attention. It was coming from above him. He looked up and caught the reflection in the windows of a large building. A helicopter. Relief flooded through him. There was a helicopter! He ran forward towards the sound. The dogs caught up with him, catching his excitement.
They rounded the corner and Rick pulled up. A wall of walkers blocked him. Eyes wide, he turned and tried to go back the way he'd come but it was suddenly blocked as well. He turned and headed down another road. A large tank blocked the road. A few strangled barks reached his ears and he turned. One of the walkers reached for him, grabbing onto the bag instead. He surged forward and had to abandon the bag. He dashed for the tank, ducked down, and rolled under it.
And that's how he found himself locked in a tank with a dead walker he just took out, deafening himself momentarily by the ricocheting bullet. He closed his eyes and let out a loud, long sigh. This was where he was going to die. He knew it. He was never going to see Carl or Lori again.
'Hey!' The radio in the tank cracked. 'Yeah, you. The dog in the tank. You chasing your tail in there?'
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Author's Notes: No horse because cops are hot and so are cop cars. So I wanted Rick to keep the car. But I gave the walkers some dogs to eat instead. XD