Missing Pieces

Chapter One

Rick was never going to stop looking. He promised himself that he would go into each camp and ask every person he saw if they had met a Carl, or even a person named Lori or Shane. In the beginning Rick would show them pictures of his son, praying that Carl hadn't changed too much, but after a while he stopped. The only time those pictures came out was when Rick missed him most. Each photo had been touched and fiddled with so many times that they were beginning to fade, wrinkles appearing across the paper.

One of his biggest fears was forgetting. In the beginning Rick would list off his friends and his family. Describe how they looked each night before he went to bed. The list began to grow smaller as time passed. Now all Rick did was remember Carl, Lori and Shane. He knew his parents didn't make it and his friends from the station were found dead inside. There was no use in remembering the dead. They already walked amongst the humans, groaning and staggering towards them, arms stretched out in need. Walkers made Rick feel sick. What was now killing people used to be human, too. A kid, a parent, a brother or a sister. They went to school or had a job. And now they were ruining the world, killing some while causing others to cower in fear.

As time passed, Rick felt like he needed to start reminding himself who he was. Describe how he used to look. Clean shaven and bright eyes. Hopeful. Happy. Now he looked old and tired. He had a beard and too many scars to count. He was dirty and worn out and done. There had been so many nights where Rick wanted to give up. He looked at his gun and thought about how all it would take would be one pull of a trigger. He could stop running and stop fighting. Finally, he could give up. But then he would think about Carl. Think about how his tiny body would climb into his lap and stay there until Rick felt better again. What Rick wouldn't do to have his boy in his arms again.

The road Rick drove down was long and empty. A few cars were wrecked on either side, veered off into the grass and slammed into trees, but nothing was in the way of his path. Gravel crunched underneath his tires as he did a steady sixty down the street. It had been days since he saw any sign of people. There were camps, all empty and torn apart. He couldn't tell if the humans or the walkers did it. They seemed to act the same any more. Savage. The only difference was the humans acted on fear while the walkers acted on hunger.

Days like this were ones that made Rick worry. It felt as if nothing was real. He would spend hours staring at the road, driving with a white knuckle grip, waiting to wake up. Sit up in his bed drenched in sweat, needles stuck inside of him with machines beeping all around him. Things would be so much easier if the bullet had killed him. Sometimes it felt like the reason the world ended was because Rick had been shot. Not because of a random disease or a nuclear weapon gone wrong, but because a man crawled out of a car and shot him.

The walkers couldn't compare to Ricks brain. They were monsters, ones that tore you apart and ate you without a thought, but nothing could compare to the idea that Rick was the last human alive. He had seen hundreds of people over the years, all in their own little groups, but he knew better than believe they were alive. Herds could easily take all of them out. It wasn't far fetched to think he was the only one around. Even though he wanted to believe Carl was alive, it could get hard. Rick had just learned to push the feelings away, turn the music up, drive even faster, and pray that not too many walkers follow him.

It took a few hours for Rick to finally find a town that had more than a few buildings. Cars littered the road, along with dead bodies. Must have already been gone through, but Rick didn't care. There would always be things to find. There were apartment buildings and a post office, along with a few small stores and a bank. What really caught Ricks eye was a gas station. That had been the only thing he had seen for hours, but those had all been small, only things inside were empty coolers and candy boxes. This one seemed bigger, like it doubled as a convenience store, which meant there would hopefully be some sort of food in there. Most things had expired, but Rick had learned how to choke it down, even if it was two year old tomato soup. Plus, most of the time Rick hopped between camps, so he was never really starving.