The sun was already rising over the tall fortified walls of The Right Arm, bathing the entire settlement in golden light. The fields were alive with movement—people hauling wood, clearing land for new crops, tending to the elderly, and expanding shelters. It was starting to feel like a true settlement.
Rick stood at the center of the camp, arms crossed, scanning everything with careful precision.
The population had grown:
Rick Grimes
Carl Grimes
Lori Grimes
Shane Walsh
Daryl Dixon
Merle Dixon
Glenn Rhee
T-Dog
Andrea & Amy
Jacqui
Jim
Morales & his wife Miranda, and their two children
Guillermo and the original Vatos (Antonio, Miguel, Eduardo, Sergio, and 6 more fighters)
The 8 elderly residents
Morgan & Duane Jones
10 new survivors from Atlanta (original characters Rick helped save during the earlier rescue)
2 loyal dogs
Total Population:
52 people (35 adults, 15 elderly, 2 children)
Plus 2 dogs.
The next morning, training continues.
Rick Rearrange the army
Current Army Recruits: 24 fighters.
10 Vatos (Guillermo's group)
Shane
Daryl
Merle
Glenn
T-Dog
Morales
4 of the new survivors
4 younger adult men from the quarry group
Rick trained them in small groups:
Morning: Endurance runs, obstacle courses, basic formations
Afternoon: Firearms drills, melee combat, knife techniques
Evening: Tactical briefings, situational awareness, and silent takedowns
"Remember!" Rick shouted during one drill, "We move as one unit. Always cover your brother's back. The moment you act alone is the moment you die."
Shane barked at the recruits like a drill sergeant. "Faster! You think a walker waits for you to catch your breath?! MOVE!"
Merle, of course, couldn't resist his usual humor, shouting, "If you can't outrun a one-legged walker, y'all don't deserve to live!"
Laughter broke out, easing the tension.
Later that evening, after drills, Rick walked the camp with Carl at his side.
They stopped by the fields where Morales and his wife were planting crops alongside Jim and the new survivors.
Miranda Morales waved, "Even with an army, these crops will feed us all, Rick."
Rick nodded with a smile. "You're doing great. And Morales — thank you for stepping up."
Morales chuckled. "We're family now, Rick."
The warm light of dawn crept across the Right Arm community, highlighting the rapidly growing settlement. The newly trained recruits finished their morning runs, while workers built new housing structures with salvaged wood, concrete blocks, and sheet metal. The once simple camp was transforming into something greater.
But as Rick stood atop the watchtower scanning the horizon, his mind was elsewhere — brewing ideas far beyond simple survival.
As the wind rustled through the trees, Rick pulled out an old, battered map he recovered from an abandoned state trooper station.
He studied the nearby regions:
Fort Benning
Dobbins Air Reserve Base
Local National Guard armories
Several old airfields and supply depots
He spoke quietly to himself.
"The military pulled out fast… but they didn't take everything."
His mind calculated rapidly, drawing upon both his Special Forces background and his knowledge of the original timeline.
The government fell into chaos quickly. Convoys were overrun. Airfields were abandoned. Equipment left behind. Weapons. Ammunition. Fuel. Helicopters. Transport trucks. Maybe even armored vehicles.
He exhaled.
If we can secure even a fraction of what's out there, The Right Arm won't just survive — we'll thrive. We'll control the roads, the rivers, the sky if necessary.
Rick's eyes narrowed, already envisioning the future.
"We build an army. But we also build infrastructure. Mobility. Logistics.
That night, Rick gathered his trusted council around a large table in the newly finished command center:
Shane
Guillermo
Daryl
Merle
Morgan
Morales
Glenn
They sat quietly as Rick laid out the plan.
"Gentlemen… we're not safe yet. We've done well. The walls are strong. The army's growing. But we lack resources. We lack equipment."
He pointed to the marked map.
"Fort Benning may be compromised, but Dobbins, local depots, and rural armories might still hold stockpiles. Military vehicles. Ammunition. Medical supplies. Fuel. Even helicopters."
Glenn's eyes widened. "Helicopters? You think we can fly them?"
Rick nodded, calm but serious.
"We have people who may know how—or we'll find those who can."
Morgan chimed in, "That's a big risk, Rick. These places might be overrun."
"That's why we're building the Right Arm Army," Rick replied. "Not just to defend this place, but to expand our reach."
Shane leaned forward. "What about the people?"
Rick nodded again. "We also recruit. There are survivors scattered everywhere. Small groups, families, people who've given up hope. We offer them safety — under strict rules."
Merle grinned, lighting a cigarette. "Sounds like we're starting a damn nation, Sheriff."
Rick stared at him firmly.
"We're building civilization, Merle. The world won't fix itself. So we do it."
Rick assigned new scavenging teams.
Glenn would lead a scouting party to secure RVs, trailers, and mobile homes, preparing for future population growth.
Guillermo would take a crew to secure medical supply routes.
Shane and Daryl would help him lead armed raids on military depots and armories.
Merle, surprisingly enthusiastic, volunteered to lead salvage crews for fuel and mechanical repairs.
As their goals expanded, so did the army. More recruits from inside The Right Arm volunteered after seeing the discipline and unity of the first batch.
Army population grew to 34 trained soldiers.
Several of the original quarry group adults joined.
6 of the newer rescued survivors stepped up
Even Morales' teenage son, Daniel, began early training under Morgan's guidance.
Daily drills became harsher.
Rick's motto echoed through camp:
"If you sweat more in training, you bleed less in battle."
Later that evening, Rick found Carl practicing with a slingshot near the water.
Carl aimed at empty tin cans lined up on a fence. He hit three out of five.
Rick smiled. "That's pretty good, son."
Carl puffed his chest a bit. "Better than Merle, right?"
Rick laughed. "You might give him a run for his money."
Carl looked up seriously. "Are you really going to fight the bad people out there?"
Rick kneeled beside him.
"We might have to someday. But we'll do it smart. We'll make this place strong so you and everyone else can live like kids again."
Carl smiled. "Then I'll be ready too, Dad."
Rick pulled him in for a hug, his voice soft.
"You're my hope, Carl. Everything I'm building here… it's for you."
As Rick stood alone at the edge of the watchtower once again, the stars glittered above.
He could hear soft laughter coming from the campfires below. Children playing. The elderly singing quietly.
For the first time since waking up from that coma, he truly felt purpose.
He whispered to himself:
"The Right Arm will endure."