The Prologue

"Tiptoe Through The Window"

Rick had thought a lot about Lori since moving to Alexandria. The large, colonial-style, row homes reminded Rick of the time he and Lori had travelled to Maryland. It was the first time the two youngsters had gone on a road trip alone. One thing that stuck out to Rick was how noticeably grayer things were up north. But it wasn't just the terrain that reminded Rick of his time with Lori—it was Jessie.

Lori and Jessie had very little in common; Lori was a waiflike brunette, and Jessie a more robust blonde. The one thing they both had in common was that they both were damsels in distress. Rick didn't know what it was that drew him to Jessie and her world. He claimed he wanted to end the domestic abuse Jessie had endured from her heinous husband, Pete. But subconsciously, Rick was trying his best to resolve his issues with Lori. Shane's presence didn't help matters, either.

Rick was already covered by the poncho made of bedsheets, which was in turn covered in the viscera of the dead. The stench of the dead was repelling; the sulfur-ridden fumes filled the air of the small home. The walkers were held at bay by a sofa that acted as a barrier between the living and the dead. Rick knew that it was only a matter of time before they would all be as dead as Deanna.

Rick left the boys, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Jessie to go collect Judith. But then it hit him again—Judith was missing. Carol had left the child with Jessie. However, during the confusion, Judith had been abducted. Rick had his suspicions, but at the moment he needed to focus on the task at hand. The dead had flooded into the safe-zone, and if Rick didn't move fast, finding Judith would be the least of his concerns.

"Alright then, it's time." Rick said to the group.

Covered by the entrails of the zombies, the group would walk among them. This camouflage had been used by Rick before; he knew that if everyone did everything right, they could make it safely to the armory. There was no other option; it was only a matter of time before the sofa would no longer be enough to keep the dead out. They could not hide anymore. There was no other way out.

Hands locked, the group slipped effortlessly past the dead after Rick collected his daughter. Rick's blue eyes dilated when the group made it to the porch. The streets, once secured and safe, were now overrun by walkers. Rick did not have the luxury of gawking at the sight of the undead. He quickly clasped Carl's hand, who held Jessie's, who held Sam's.

As the group slithered through the dead, a small, meek voice could be heard.

"Mom..."

"Mom..." called out Sam, as the snarling voices of the dead increased.

"Mom."

"Mom!" the boy called out, louder, more assertive. Within moments, the walkers grabbed Sam, descending on the boy viciously.

Jessie tried her best to save her son but was also overwhelmed. Even with walkers pouring over them, she held Carl's hand. Rick turned to see the dead feasting upon Sam, and then Jessie, but the sheriff's eyes focused on Jessie's death grip on her son. Carl! Rick thought before quickly removing the hatchet that sat at his waist.

Crack!

Rick slammed the blade of the hatchet on Jessie's wrist—once, twice, finally slicing through the bone on the third strike. Rick turned back to see Jessie engulfed by walkers; sweat and grit began to blur the sheriff's eyes. Jessie's face turned into Lori's and the officer said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't—leave—us!" cried Jessie, in the guise of Lori, as the dead consumed her and her son.