TWD: Awakened As Rick

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The sun was low over The Right Arm, staining the horizon in burnt orange as preparations were finalized. The gates stood fortified, sandbags stacked, torches lit in case of smoke cover.

But the mood wasn't fear.

It was focus.

The kind of quiet resolve forged by long roads and longer scars.

Rick stood in the center of the war room, the council surrounding him. Leah, Daryl, Maggie, Graves, Morgan, Shane, and Washington all stood tense but ready.

A hand-drawn map of The Right Arm lay pinned under knives on the table. Cross-marks showed firing lanes. Circles showed civilians' shelter zones. A red X marked the gate.

"We assume Pope comes here," Rick began, voice low. "Injured. Alone. Playing victim. He gets past the gate, blows himself up inside the med center."

"He'll want a crowd," Morgan added. "A sermon needs listeners."

"Then we make sure no one hears him," Graves said coldly.

Leah's fingers curled against the map. "I want to be the one to greet him."

Rick shook his head. "No."

"I trained under him. He'll listen."

"No," Rick said again. "You're too close to this."

"So are you," she snapped.

Silence followed.

But Rick didn't flinch. "That's why I'll be the one waiting at the gate. With Daryl. And Graves watching from the east tower."

Maggie leaned over the map. "He won't come in broad daylight. He's prideful, but not stupid."

Shane crossed his arms. "You're all assuming he'll walk through the front. What if he finds another way?"

Rick answered, "Then we put eyes on everything."

That evening, Carl took the first watch in the west bell tower, eyes sweeping the tree line. He held a flare gun in one hand, binoculars in the other.

Below him, Carol stood by the stables, crossbow slung. Beth passed supplies between the infirmary and the hidden safehouse beneath the blacksmith's quarters.

Inside the med center, Kara stirred.

Leah sat beside her, applying fresh gauze to her leg. Kara's face twisted with pain—but she reached out, grabbing Leah's wrist.

"He won't come through the front," she rasped. "He's too proud for that."

Leah's heart dropped. "What?"

Kara struggled upright, eyes wide.

"He thinks… sermons should be surprises. He'll slip through. Like smoke."

Leah stood.

Ran.

Maggie and Daryl were patrolling the south perimeter when they saw it.

A mark burned into the base of the fence—a crimson Reaper sigil, scorched into the wood.

Maggie hissed. "He's already here."

Daryl raised the radio. "Rick. Code Ash. Southern wall marked. We've been flanked."

Rick's voice came back like steel. "Light the yard. Pull back civilians. Lock the infirmary."

The blast ripped through the far side of the med center at 7:12 PM.

It wasn't fire—it was shrapnel and thunder.

Windows burst. Doors tore off hinges.

A side wall collapsed in smoke and debris.

Screams rang out.

Rick sprinted toward the flames, Daryl at his side, shouting orders.

"Get the wounded out! Maggie—perimeter! Leah, with me!"

Through the haze, a figure stumbled out of the med center—

Cloaked. Burned and bleeding.

Pope.

He was alive.

Barely.

Clothes charred. Right eye gone. Face cracked like scorched earth.

But he was smiling.

He held a second device in one hand—small, square, blinking red.

Rick raised his rifle. "Drop it."

Pope stumbled forward. "You want your light? Here it is."

Leah stepped into view, her revolver drawn.

He saw her.

"Daughter," he rasped.

"You were never my father."

She fired.

Once.

The shot hit his leg, dropping him to his knees.

But his thumb hovered over the trigger.

Daryl fired an arrow.

Straight through the hand.

Pope dropped the detonator.

Graves rushed forward and crushed it underfoot.

Pope lay bleeding in the dirt.

Leah walked to him slowly, breathing hard.

He looked up at her with one ruined eye.

"You kill me… you become me."

She knelt.

"No. That's where you're wrong"

She put a knife in his heart.

The fires were put out by midnight.

The wounded were counted—five injured, one critical, none dead.

Kara had been moved to a new recovery room. She asked only one thing:

"Is he gone?"

Rick stood beside her.

"Yes."

Outside, the sigil on the wall was painted over. The children were allowed back out. Patrols resumed their standard rotations.

But something had changed.

The shadow over The Right Arm had lifted.

That night, Rick returned to his notebook.

He wrote:

"The fire came.It burned.But it didn't consume.

Pope is gone. His gospel buried.Leah ended what she helped build.Kara defied what she once worshipped.

That's what we do here.

We change.l

This world wants ashes.We give it roots.

The Right Arm lives. And now—It grows."

He closed the book.

And outside, dawn touched the walls.

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If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Ptreon for early access, exclusive chapters, and more:

‎

‎15 Advanced Chapters on Patreon

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