He left his horse tethered a block away and walked the last stretch alone, hands raised in the open. His sharp instnct screamed that eyes were already on him from the shadows.
Though the streets were mostly silent, he could feel the tension in the air like static before a storm.
He had been here before—at least in the show. The Vatos were one of the more surprising communities from the early days. In the original timeline, Rick and the others nearly clashed with them before discovering they were just protecting the elderly. That knowledge helped guide his approach now. He knew this wasn't just a gang — it was a hidden pocket of decency in a crumbling city.
He raised his voice calmly but clearly. "I'm not here to fight. Just want to talk."
Within moments, shadows moved. Men with weapons emerged from alleyways and doorways, guns aimed but not firing. Rick stood still, hands raised.
One man stepped forward, short and stocky, eyes sharp beneath his bandana.
"You got a lot of nerve showing up here, homie."
Rick met his eyes. "Guillermo, right? I know who you are. I'm Rick. I came to talk survival."
Guillermo tensed. "How do you know my name?"
"I've been around," Rick answered. "I've seen people like you make it out of worse. I'm building something. Something better. I want you and your people to be part of it."
Guillermo narrowed his eyes. "People like me?"
"People who protect others," Rick said without flinching. "People who fight for something. I know you're not just a gang. I know about the old folks. And the dogs."
The Vatos were clearly taken aback by how much he already knew.
Rick continued, "You've done something amazing — you've kept people alive. But it won't last here. Atlanta's gone. More walkers pour in every day. Supplies are drying up. It's only a matter of time."
Guillermo crossed his arms. "And what? You got paradise waiting for us out there?"
"No paradise," Rick said, "but a plan. Land north of here. Fertile ground, natural cover. We're building walls. Farming. Building a home. A real one."
Silence.
Then Guillermo said, "Come inside. Let's talk."
Inside the Shelter
Rick was escorted into the Vatos' base — a fortified nursing home hidden among the ruins. They had done their best with what little they had. Cots were lined in the hallway, elderly residents sitting or sleeping peacefully. Two dogs padded down the corridor — a tan Labrador and a black mutt.
Rick took stock quickly. There were 11 Vatos fighters, including Guillermo. He counted 8 elderly residents, some in wheelchairs, others walking with canes or being tended to. Two dogs were part of the group as well — guardians and companions.
In total, they had 21 people, including Guillermo himself, and 2 loyal dogs.
Guillermo assembled the group. Rick laid out his plan clearly — the farm location, the defensive perimeter, the long-term strategy. He explained how they would transport everyone safely, including the elderly, and guaranteed equal leadership and protection under one community.
"We're stronger together," he said. "You stay here, you eventually get overrun. Join us — and we will survive together."
The room was quiet for a long moment.
Then Guillermo looked at his people, then back at Rick.
"You sure about this? You're offering a lot."
"I'm sure. We need each other."
Finally, Guillermo nodded. "Alright. We're in."
The Vatos murmured in agreement, quietly but firmly.
They wasted no time. By morning, Rick, Guillermo, and the others had organized supplies. The Vatos had prepared for the long haul and were well-stocked.
The inventory included:
10 rifles (mixed AKs and AR-15s)
6 shotguns
12 handguns
6 frag grenades
Over 2,200 rounds of ammo
First-aid kits, medical supplies, spare clothing, and preserved food
3 functioning vehicles (a delivery van, an SUV, and a compact sedan)
The sky was bruised with twilight as Rick and the others, rode through the empty streets of Atlanta. His horse's hooves made soft clopping sounds against cracked asphalt as he headed north, toward the spot he had scouted and planned for weeks—a place that could become a sanctuary, a new beginning.
The plan was clear. A place with fertile land, natural barriers, and enough space to build walls and farms. He had already convinced the Vatos to join him and now it was time to find Morgan and Duane, who had already gone there first.
Rick's heart was steady, but he knew the stakes. This wasn't just about survival anymore; it was about building something lasting.
Riding hard through the outskirts of the city, Rick finally spotted signs of life near the river valley—the place he had chosen for the new community.
There, he saw Morgan and Duane fortified in a small encampment by the river, using old vehicles and debris to create barricades.
Morgan looked up, relief washing over his face as he recognized Rick.
"Rick," Morgan said, his voice steady but tired.
"We're here," Rick said, dismounting. "I brought the Vatos and supplies.
Duane smiled faintly, "It's good to see you."
Rick introduced Guillermo and the rest of the Vatos to Morgan and Duane.
Everyone immediately began organizing. The elderly were settled into makeshift shelters, while fighters checked weapons and planned defenses.
Rick took the lead, walking the perimeter and outlining the first steps:
"We'll build walls here, start clearing land there for crops. This place can be our home — but only if we all work together."
Morgan nodded in agreement. "It's a good spot. Water, wood, space. We just need to make it safe."
With Morgan and Duane now part of the group, the total population stood at:
21 people (Rick, Morgan, Duane, Guillermo, 10 Vatos fighters, 8 elderly residents)
2 dogs
Rick mounted his horse once more, looking over the land.
"This is just the beginning. We'll build, we'll fight, and we'll survive. Together."