The Walking DeadAtlanta, Georgia, USA - 2010
Ben appeared hovering in the sky above Atlanta, Georgia. He had decided to stick to canon this time. This world had been on his mind for a while now. Not only was it much quieter than the other worlds, but there were plenty of banks full of money. Rick was primed to wake up in the next couple of days, Glen hadn't taken the scouting trip into the city yet, and Shane was probably banging Laurie in the woods.
He landed in the middle of the street and watched as a horde of zombies took notice. Logically, he knew that they couldn't hurt him. The sight still sent a chill up his spine. He focused on the power in his eyes. Laser vision swept the street from side to side, slicing through countless rotting heads. This was partially pest control coupled with a test. He purposely pushed as much power as he could into the laser vision. Then he shifted his aim down to melt a strip in the street.
Ben let the lasers fade once the street was clear. He floated forward, putting down any zombies that were still kicking around. The signs of his laser vision continued on, even running through a few buildings, and slicing a horizontal line through a stalled train. Thankfully, they were office buildings rather than anything important. The trail of his laser vision finally stopped after a couple of miles. It was pure dumb luck that he hadn't set any houses on fire or killed any hidden survivors.
He drifted back to street level. The street was starting to fill up with zombies again. He wasn't going to roll the dice on using his laser vision again. Collateral damage had cut down a few road signs. He picked up a stop sign and created the rough shape of an ax. There were other ways to clear the road that would cut down on accidental murder.
Hefting the scrap ax, he swung it wide, lopping off a swath of zombie heads. Ben continued on, sweeping the street of any that came into range. One unexpected benefit of getting the power was the fact that he rarely got tired. He could run, fly, or whatever for hours without an issue. His current record was five days of constant activity before he needed to rest, and he could go without sleep for more than a week without any ill effects. Combining the two lowered it to four days.
He had no idea how long it took him to clear the street. The zombies just kept coming. He stopped for a break around sunset to find there was a stack of two to three bodies high the entire width of the street for about a block. There were still stragglers filtering into the street from nearby buildings. He had adjusted to the smell sometime after the first hour. It didn't make it any better, but it helped him keep moving.
Ben stood in the center of the street. Blood and bits of gore covered him to the extent that the zombies had started to ignore him. It gave him enough time to look around. He hadn't had much of a plan when he had started. Clearing one street took much longer than expected due to the sheer amount of undead. He made a mental note to look up the population of Atlanta the next time he had access to the internet. There were probably even more with the areas that people were told to go to for safety.
He strolled through the street, beheading any zombies that got too close until he saw a sign for a bank. There were plenty of worlds out there with superheroes where he would still need cash. He stopped at the ATM to make a withdraw. There was a case that was the size of a suitcase where the cash was stored. His fingers easily created an improvised handle before he yanked it out of the machine.
Ben held it tight before he hopped back to his cube. He set it down a couple of steps away, then hopped back to the street. The front doors to the bank were already smashed and the interior was a mess. He looked through each of the teller spots to find that they had already been cleared out. There were a few scattered bills along the floor that were dotted with blood. Those would raise too many questions.
He turned his attention to the vault. Charred patches on the wall paired with shattered chunks of floor told him that someone was unsuccessful at opening it. The explosion probably drew too much unwanted attention.
Ben grabbed the edge of the vault door with one hand and tore it from the wall. A single zombie shuffled around inside. They wore a stained nametag that had the logo for the bank. He didn't look too closely, choosing to behead it rather than bother reading the name. It looked like they had locked themselves inside the vault for safety. He wasn't here to play detective.
There weren't any pallets of wrapped cash like he had hoped. Instead, there were a couple stacks of various bills as well as some pre-loaded trays for the tellers. He carefully balanced the trays before taking them to his cube. There were more banks in the city to clear out before he spent time going through safety deposit boxes.
Ben stepped back out into the bank lobby. The noise had brought over a few nearby zombies. These ones didn't look as bad as the others he had been cutting down. The blood on their skin wasn't as dried out. Their clothes looked like they had been geared up to do some scavenging. He didn't recognize them, so they weren't from the show, but they hadn't been undead for too long. The two wore a backpack, dust mask, and holsters that were empty. One had a broken radio on their hip.
They stumbled into the bank searching for the source of the noise. The zombie remains covering him were enough to keep them from noticing him. He disposed of them before taking time to go through their packs.
All together the loot consisted of some canned goods, medical supplies, and a couple of 'how to' books. The thing that interested him the most was the map of Atlanta in one of their bags. Circles marked the places they wanted to scavenge, areas to avoid, and what appeared to be their intended route. They were smart enough not to mark their camp. The closest they came was their point of entry which was really just a general direction.
His plan was to clear as much of the city as he could until it was safe for people to stay long-term, or until he got bored. He did need to go to the CDC office to make sure the guy had enough gas to keep going for a while longer.
Ben found a military check-point after a bit of walking. The jerrycans were empty, but he had other ways to fill them. First he needed to get cleaned up and find a vehicle. He couldn't just show up to a gas station covered in blood and carrying a stack of jerrycans.
The CircleAtlanta, Georgia, USA 2024
The jerrycans held five gallons each which put it at fifteen dollars per. He had settled on a U-Haul truck and had loaded it full of cans. The cashiers had been staring at him for the last few minutes. He had fifty cans filled and stacked in the back of the truck.
The Walking DeadAtlanta, Georgia, USA - 2010
This trip had taught him something more about his travelling power. He could jump to different locations in the same world as long as he could visualize it. Driving a U-Haul truck through post-apocalyptic Atlanta was not feasible. Appearing in the parking lot of the CDC made things much easier. He hoped that the scientist wasn't watching the cameras when a moving truck suddenly materialized in front of the building.
Ben stepped out of the truck and casually strolled up to the door. He waved at the camera then pushed the intercom button.
"I brought some gas for you," Ben said without waiting for a reply. "Do you have an underground garage? I could pull in and leave it there for you."
The intercom stayed quiet for a while. A short buzz came on after a moment.
"The gate is too loud," the intercom replied. "I can't open it. Why would you bring me gas?"
Ben motioned to the truck, "for your generator. It should buy you a month or two maybe. There are fifty of those five-gallon jerrycans in there. Let me clear the area and you can open the garage."
"How are you going to clear the area?" The scientist muttered over the intercom.
Ben chuckled, "leave it to me."
"Fine," the intercom grumbled. "Clear the area and I'll open it."
Ben pulled the truck to the side of the building and waited. A metal gate blocked the entry to a below-ground garage. There was quite a crowd on that side. He grabbed the stop sign ax then stepped out. This time, he kept his abilities within human levels. The ax was quiet enough to keep the attention down. Some stragglers still wandered in. It didn't take long.
He turned toward the camera to give a thumbs up. The gate screeched and rumbled loudly with every inch it raised. No wonder the guy didn't want to open it. Zombies started to flow into the area. The number had easily doubled by the time it reached halfway.
Ben sighed and got to work once more. This time he pushed his speed to the limit of what a normal human could reach. An Olympic athlete could probably match his speed for a minute or two. He continued for nearly twenty even after the gate had reached the top.
He got back into the truck and drifted into the garage. The screech of the gate lowering called in another wave of the undead. Ben hurried outside before it could close. The scrap ax broke after a few more zombies, the sign portion of snapped off leaving him with a pole. It didn't split heads as easily. The bar was bent in various angles after the first ten of zombies.
Ben turned it horizontal to push back the gathering horde. Their rotting hands reached out to him, pointlessly trying to get a grip. They did manage to rip some of his clothing, which was annoying. Their noise and his presence were enough to lead the zombies away from the garage. He hopped back, placed the signpost on the grounds, and flattened out the top half into a very crude sword. It wasn't nearly as sharp as the scrap ax, but it did the job.
Eventually, he would need to get an actual weapon. The bladed variety seemed to be working just fine considering he could move fast enough to be a blur. Guns were loud and would draw more attention than he wanted. He could take care of whatever popped up, but he didn't want to bring the extra on others like Glen and his crew.
Now that the gas was delivered, he turned his focus to the Retirement Home. He had the foresight to appear a little bit away from their front door. They weren't happy to see him strolling up covered in gore. Five of the guys met him, only two were armed.
Ben waved, "howdy, neighbor."
"Who the fuck are you?" One of the toughs growled.
He held out his hand, then realized how dirty he was and pulled it back, "I'm Ben. I'm trying to make the city safer for people. It's taking longer than I had hoped."
"You don't have a gun," another of the guys said.
Ben shook his head, "nah, too loud. I've been using axes and swords made from scrap." He paused. "Do you guys need anything? Medicine, food, weapons?"
"What do you want in return?" The first asked.
Ben shook his head, "nothing. You guys are here taking care of people that were abandoned. That's rare in these times."
"How do you know about that?" The group started to tense up at his words.
He pointed at the sign, "it's a retirement home and they're trying to peak out the windows."
They turned to see a few older people looking through the gaps.
"Get me a list of medications you need," Ben said before they could argue. "Food too. I'll get your area cleared and better secured, or I can help you move somewhere better."
"You can actually get it?" One of the guys asked.
Ben nodded, "can you keep a secret?"
They stared back at him without saying anything.
"Eh, I'll trust you," Ben gently lifted off the ground. "I might be an angel."
Their jaws dropped. Telling them I was an angel was easier to explain than being a dimension traveler with superpowers.
"God is real?" One of them gasped.
"How did he let this happen?" Another yelled at him.
Ben sighed, "the big guy can't interfere. If he does, it means they all can step in."
"What do you mean all?" Another asked.
He waved a hand in the air, "the guy's downstairs will be able to show up too."
"Look around, they're already here," the first one said.
Ben shook his head, "no, this was a group of people that were too smart for their own good. In their defense, they were trying to cure cancer. It just didn't work like they thought." He sighed. "They were the first to die."
They stared at him in silence as he continued to float around.
"My abilities are bound to avoid attention," Ben continued. "No healing people, creating wine from water, food from nothing, and all that." He smiled. "I can help other ways. There are a few other people I'm planning to help before I leave the city."
The group hadn't said anything yet.
"Those lists?" Ben remined them.
One of the group rushed into the building and came out a few minutes later with a long list of medication and food.
"Be safe," Ben said. "I don't know how long this will take. Don't trust everyone. There are bad people out there. I'll bring some guns too."
Ben flew away with a big smile on his face. He was going to stick to the angel thing in this world. It wasn't like they could prove him wrong. He zipped through four pharmacies and two hospitals to get everything on the list. Each stop required him to clear out a small horde of zombies. He also found a few failed scavengers stumbling around and took the supplies they had managed to gather as well.
He returned to the retirement home with a few stuffed bags of medicine about an hour later. They had blocked off a couple more of the alleys with broken equipment and empty beds.
Ben knocked on the front door and waited for them to answer. One of the guys stared at him in awe as he handed over the medicine.
"I'll be back with the food," Ben said before he vanished to his cube.
He had no idea how long it would take to gather the food in the same world. Instead, he grabbed a few stacks of cash and popped away.
Dawson's CreekNew England, USA – 1998
A quick stop at a random hotel to shower and change prevented the police from being called. He left some cash on the counter since he didn't want to scare the clerk while covered in blood and bits of gore.
Money went a lot farther in the 1990s than it did in 2024. Ben stopped by the equivalent to Costco to load up on groceries. He avoided stuff that needed to be refrigerated until he could get some sort of power arranged for the place.
There wasn't a section for firearms, and the sporting goods were lacking. He had really hoped to find a machete or something to use as a weapon. Unfortunately, most swords were for display rather than use these days. He would need to find another world with some decent weapons.
The flat cart was stacked high enough to need some bungie cords to hold it upright. He wasn't sure if he was going to come back to this dimension anytime soon. It could be useful for the times that he needed to buy something cheaper or just relax without the constant bombardment of signals from dimensions with widespread cellphone and Wi-Fi use. He had learned how to deal with it, but it was better when he didn't have to worry about it.
The Walking DeadAtlanta, Georgia, USA - 2010
Ben appeared in the same spot he had vanished. He waited patiently for them to see him. Four of them came out to gawk at the stack of food. His freshly cleaned clothes were probably just as jarring as the supplies.
"Do you need some help unloading it?" He asked casually.
"Yes, please," one of them whispered.
The residents came by to watch him float handfuls of supplies to the pantry. He kept a broad smile on his face as he loaded the cabinets. Once that was done he turned to address the crowd.
"I'm worried that some unsavory character will take advantage of you," Ben said in his best friendly voice. "Is there anyone nearby that has been giving you trouble?"
"No," one of the residents replied.
Ben sighed, "ok. I'm going to clear out a few more of the undead from the streets until sunset. I'll come back and check on you. After that, I'm going to head out of the city to find some more people to help."
One of them managed to nod.
He flew away to scout the city until he found the tank from the first episode. Rick should be heading to the city the next day or so. There hadn't been any gunshots yet, so he hoped that was a good thing.
The area wasn't as packed as it had been in the show yet. They had to exaggerate things. He didn't doubt there were plenty of zombies in the buildings, but he didn't think they would get to the street so quickly.
Ben listened for a long moment as he made a couple more scrap weapons. There were plenty of signs to use. The ones hanging from the stoplights were bigger than he had thought. A creative use of laser vision welded it to the pole to make a scrap sword roughly three and a half feet long. He didn't hear anyone nearby. There were a few guns discarded among the military check point. They were stuck under truly dead bodies, were visibly damaged, or covered in gore. He ignored the zombies as he gathered a few of the better-looking damaged rifles to swap out the parts. It was amazing how easy it was when he used superspeed. Finding ammo was the hardest part. Most of the magazines only had one or two rounds per at the most. He stopped once he had ten bullets. It should have been enough to draw a crowd.
One of the more dexterous zombies managed to rip his shirt. Ben took that as a sign and used the first bullet to take it down. The gunshot echoed through the streets. He took aim on the next then repeated the process until the gun clicked dry. The streets were soon swarming with the undead.
Ben cleared the first wave with his laser vision to give himself some extra time. He stopped then pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. There wasn't a reason for him to use a weapon right now. He had used one to keep the CDC guy from freaking out and had just kind of kept going until he remembered the Retirement Home group.
With a sigh, he opened his eyes and began to clear the street again with his laser vision. He made sure to manage the strength to avoid collateral damage. It cleared about two blocks at a time which slowed the process a little. The gunshots had worked better than he had expected. Zombies filled the street in front of him then started to appear in large groups on the side streets. The buildings behind him were the only thing preventing him from being completely surrounded.
Four hours later, the street was mostly clear. There were still some stragglers, but they were easy to take care of with a couple of smaller blasts. The entire area looked like a warzone. He didn't bother going through the corpses. Whatever loot they had wasn't worth the mess. He had a thought to find a construction site to find a dump truck. His search was a lot shorter than he had expected as he found the vehicle crashed into a building. He broke off the back then started loading the bodies to clear the street.
Ben finished the task with a little bit of time before sunset. He flew over to the Retirement Home as he had promised. Their defenses had been further improved. He really hoped that it would keep them alive.
"Hello," he said as he landed in front of the entry. "I noticed the defenses. They're a good improvement. Do you have weapons?"
One of the group from his first visit was there, "we've got a gun."
"A gun?" He repeated. "As in one?"
He nodded.
"I'll fix that," Ben sighed. "Any others?"
He shrugged, "some knives. Some tools. Jaimie found an ax."
"Do you have any experience with guns?" Ben asked.
He nodded, "pistols."
"Good, loud but not as loud as a shotgun," Ben mumbled. "What about rifles?"
He shook his head, "maybe the other guys."
Dawson's CreekLos Angeles, California, USA – 1998
Ben burst into the third gun store of the evening and stripped it clean. He had four crates full of various firearms with plenty of weapons. This dimension wasn't as connected as others while still having access to decent options. His mind instantly went to LA when he thought of guns in the 1990s. Hopefully, it helped lower the percentage of gun violence too.
Walking DeadAtlanta, Georgia, USA – 2010
The group stared at the crates in wonder.
"Here you go," Ben set the crates in the lobby. "I'm off. I'll try to check in later. Be safe."
~*~Note:This idea is poking my brain too much to ignore.