Apocalypic, a twdg spin off novel. Help!!!

Hey, guys! How yall doing? I actually wanted to talk about zombie novels I don't think there are many 'good' zombie novels and that's why I'm writing a zombie novel series. It's about an ex militant named Emma who lost her baby brother to the apocalypse due to her anger issues, negligence and due to some drugs. And now she's wandering around mentally upset and lost Well anyways, I kinda needed help and was looking for a partner so... if anyone is interested, lemme know. Because I believe that this project of mine has some real potential and yea, I'd even write a few chapters if that's what any one of ya need to show what the story could be If did right and could even compete with twdg from a writing prospective

its Y/n fic, found family, and centers around a father-daughter kind of story. my y/ns parents died and now shes with the main group and daryl takes on the father role in her life.

i need a beta reader cause I want to get it out as soon as possible. if you want more info I'm on tumblr

@hunted-moth if you are interested just DM me or something. sorry if I sound rude or something, I'm just really desperate for editors who will do this. i had one quit and one is not responding to me sadly

That is, WELL WRITTEN Negan FanFiction.

Am I the only one who struggles with this? Granted, I am newer to The Walking Dead fandom, but have felt like I’ve combed through SO many Negan fanfics on multiple platforms over the past few months, only to find very few worth reading.

Then the ones I do find are basically porn with no plot. Don’t get me wrong, I love smut — smut is a requirement in the fics I read — but they also have to have plot. I’ve only ever found two Negan fics that had plot and smut, and were well written.

I don’t ship Negan with any character from TWD, but am not opposed to any you might have. The ones I’ve favored in the past were Negan/OFC, as I do prefer M/F smut.

So please, any recommendations you have, I would GREATLY appreciate them. The longer, the better, and platform doesn’t matter. FF, AO3, Wattpad — I’m down.

Thank you in advance for any feedback I get from this post, and if you write Negan fanfic, please feel free to plug it shamelessly. Right here, right now. I want it!

SURVIVE THE WALKING DEAD

Survive The Walking Dead is a brand-spanking-new, all-OC based 'The Walking Dead' roleplay, set hundreds of miles away from the stories we've seen unfold before our very eyes on our television sets. You don't even need to watch — Or like, The Walking Dead to join! Set nearly 3 months into the outbreak, now living in this world full of the undead. No longer tied down to your job or to laws... You are a survivor. What's your story?

What else do we offer?

• Friendly staff
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• A Dice-based action/consequence system
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• A large roleplaying area, set in Oklahoma
• Lots of world building
• Friendly to those who've never watched, or don't like, The Walking Dead
• Dank memes

... And more!

We look forward to having you!

https://discord.gg/dp5MQd9EzK

Experienced Writers and Roleplayers

If you’re interested in joining an in-depth walking dead roleplay, please pm. I’m working on starting something up and need some motivated people to join in on the fun.

A little bit on info. It will be a roleplay that takes place in the world of the walking dead. All characters are original characters so you would need to create an entire personality as well as a backstory for your character.

For more information or to get an invitation, please PM me. Thanks :)

Second and last part of this rewrite;

So here is what I have in mind for season 9 & 10 of TWD, if I follow my previous ideas for season 8 (you can find them easely if you click on my username). Some info. 5 (and then some) years time jump. I'd have Morales return there, to have an actual set of eyes to witness how much our group has changed, in good and bad ways. No bottle episode this season apart from 14 which is Negan centric, and the 4th that's almost Morgan only. Each episode of the first half though, apart from the midseason finale, focuses on one character and his development, with various callbacks and references. This would be for the main characters (Rick, Carol, Daryl, Morgan, Carl, Michonne & Maggie). Knowing that I want to end the show on its 10th season, I'd change the Commonwealth storyline a bit so it provides an ending. Here it all is.

9A : A New Beginning, Life and Death

9B : No Turning Back, Calls to Arm, Whisperers War

10A : Whisperers War, Lines We Cross

10A/B : Commonwealth

The season opens on Morales, alone. We see his struggles to cope with his family's death and what he did in his loneliness after he left the group. It's the occasion to see how big and different the outside world is (no more gas for the cars, no more cans in the houses) and to provide an opening very classic for this show and reminding of season 3's opening. He runs into Magna's group that's introduced to us, and they have a deep talk that explains to the viewers that it's been years since the apocalypse began, and that now groups and herds are huger than before and the lonely ones don't make it very long. At morning, Morales has disappeared and Magna's group runs into our own group as they pull out a plan to lead a giant herd away from Kingdom. That's how Magna's taken to ASZ.

After the credits, we see how much Alexandria has thrived. Rick wakes up in a scene similar to what Gimple had in mind in 801, except Carl is here and Judith isn't. Alexandria is big and now has crops, cattle, mills and more people. Rick meets Magna and takes her group in. He's told about Morales and he decides to go out and find him (his leg is fine but not great). Basically ep1 is Rick's episode, despite a few scenes showing Ken & Marco's journey, and Marco's mad return at the Hilltop. Rick returns by the tree where he dreamed of peace once, and on which he wrote "Do It For Her". Judith is still on the back of his mind, and he freaks out when he notices a helicopter in the sky... In the end he does find Morales that he brings back home, and towards the end of the episode, he tells him he saw he helicopter too. At the very end, it's revealed through Carl that Negan is prisonner in Morgan's cell.

The second episode is Carol's. We see the Kingdom in its full glory. Carol now sits as a queen beside Ezekiel, and a main adviser. The episode teases tensions between them about some decisions, including trade with the other community : the Kingdom, being the less easy to get to in the rotted city, has to pay more during the exchanges. That pisses Zeke off a bit but Carol reminds him he used to accept worse, and that of course creates some conflicts. Carol has a fun reunion with Morales who doesn't recognize her. Rick accepts Carl becomes blackmisth apprentice at Hilltop and takes him there. The Kingdomers carry out the end of the plan started in the previous episode to lead the herd away. It's teased during this episode that there might be a particular reason behind that herd going in the communities's way. After meeting with Carol, Daryl, Morales, Jesus & Dante go on some mission to find out what it is, and where Ken is.

The third episode, Daryl's, shows this mission. He has an argument with Dante cause he knows he's trying to get close to Maggie, but Daryl realizes he's an OK guy. They find out who the Whisperers are and take Lydia prisonner. Enid & Carl (who appear to have broken up) get into a fight with 2 bullies that Carl treats like Negan would with Lucille, nearly killing them. Rick & Carol get words of Morgan returning from his years-long journey.

The fourth episode is his. We see a few flashbacks on Morgan's life on sea. He reunites with everyone after he lands and seems to be quite more peaceful than he used to be, and Carol, on the edge of breaking up with Zeke, opens up to him. At the Sanctuary, Dwight is having a lot of trouble ruling the remaining Saviors, and a part of them start to follow Sherry more than him.

The fifth episode is Carl's. Maggie puts him in jail for the sake of it and that's when he grows close to Lydia, even having sex with her. The Whisperers introduce themselves to Hilltop and Alpha gets her daughter back. Carl goes off after them in secret, and at the end Maggie gets poisonned by Gregory.

The sixth episode is Michonne's, as she rules Alexandria. She deals with Negan's wits while he rots in jail, and gains the trust of Magna & her group. Sometimes she goes outside and cleans the area, always believing something's coming to destroy what they built. It's revealed Maggie survived her poisonning, and that Carl actually found the Whisperers and was taken by them.

The seventh episode is Maggie's. She hangs Gregory for his betrayal before taking her people to Alexandria's fair. Rick returns at Alexandria and faces Negan who could have escaped, cause his door wasn't locked, but didn't. Carl is introduced to the Whisperers's life. The fair begins, but it's revealed at the end that Alpha infiltrated it.

Midseason finale, everyone. Carl begins to confront the Whisperers about their ways. Rick & the Atlanta 3 (Carol, Daryl, Morgan plus Michonne, Maggie & Enid) with Dante's help, go to the Whisperers to find Carl. Alpha shows off her megaherd to Rick, and then shows him the border she made with his friends's heads : Morales's, Rosita's, Ezekiel's, etc...

Midseason premiere with this group, plus Carl & Lydia trying to get away from the border as walkers close in, and everyone mourning their recent deaths. Rick interrupts the fair to announce what happened. Tensions arise, especially between Carol and Lydia.

Episode 10 shows the aftermath of the conflicts. The Kingdomers, on Carol's advise, choose Jerry as their new leader. An uprising is launched against Rick who bites off the throat of his attacker (Morton), and declares they'll be fighting the Whisperers, all on Negan's advise. Rick has Carl put Lydia to safety to save her from Carol's wrath. Dwight & Laura leave the Sanctuary with Lucille.

Ep11 shows the anti-Whisperers propaganda Rick pulls off in Alexandria on Negan's advise. This pisses off Michonne who loathes manipulating people, cause that reminds her of the Governor. A Militia is formed and trained to fight the war. Eugene gets words, on his radio, from an unknown woman.

Episode 12 is Carol & Morgan returning at Kingdom to exhort them to fight. None of them wants to. Henry becomes Morgan's squire and they go to ASZ. Carol goes to Hilltop where she makes peace with Lydia, as a daughterless mother and a motherless daughter. They hug, then Carol goes to ASZ. Sherry takes over the Saviors. Jerry hesitates, between the advises of Dianne who wants to fight, and the advises of Zachary (new Kingdom character) who doesn't. Episode ends as Whisperers show up at their gates.

Episode 13 opens on the reveal of Negan having escaped from his jail, and Morton's son Brandon being absent. As the Hilltopers return home, Aaron & Daryl go after Negan and eventually run into the Whisperers and Beta, who nearly kills Aaron. Michonne jumps in at the last second, with the Militia and scares him off after a duel. She takes Aaron to Hilltop as fast as she can. Maggie builds an army Michonne & Jesus take to war, and before that, Aaron & Jesus get together. Enid starts being jealous of Lydia. The Whisperers try to bribe the Kingdomers into abandoning Rick, but at the end, Jerry & his men kill them. Episode ends as the Militia reaches the border and finds a Brandon-zombie.

On the 14th episode, we return a bit in the past. Brandon, the son of the man who plotted against Rick, sets Negan free in order to pit the Whisperers & Rick against each other. He lets walkers in Alexandria to help him and succeeds. Flashbacks of Negan's life, before the ZA and during his prison-time, are shown throughout the episode. At the end, Negan kills him before crossing the Whisperers's border alone. He meets Alpha face to face. At some point, he mentions things he regrets having done in his life, and it cuts to Maggie, asleep. She is awakened by Carl screaming they're under attack. Episode ends as Hilltop is being surrounded by the Whisperers.

The penultimate episode shows the Militia crossing the border, and tensions arise in decisions making between Daryl & Dwight. Rick finds himself alone with Morgan at Alexandria (Morgan doesn't go with the Militia but rather serves Andrea sniper's role from the comics). Jerry threatens Zachary and unites the Kingdomers against the Whisperers; a troop is sent led by Dianne. After turmoils in negociation between Alexandria & the Saviors, Sherry declares that they won't help Rick fight the Whisperers, but they'll wait till he wins, then they'll take over the rest. The Hilltop is burnt down with flaming arrows, and Maggie leads the resistance. Lydia fights for the communities. Episode ends as the Whisperers are defeated, but the place is lost.

On the season finale, the Hilltopers deal with their losses. They are visited by King Jerry who helps them. They decide to settle at Alexandria, like they did at Hilltop during AOW, for a last stand. Negan gets introduced to the Whisperers culture. The Miltia & Beta's troops meet face to face on the battlefield, and get the help, at the last minute of the Kingdom fighters led by Dianne (not Jerry's group), much to Carol's surprise and joy. At Alexandria, Rick & Henry have a deep conversation about growing up, in this world but also in general, how Rick feels like he doesn't know his son anymore. Eventually, Henry's hopeful words about love and trust are heard while we see Michonne, Jesus & the Hilltopers riding in the battle to save the Militia. At the end of the episode, and the season, Negan fully gains Alpha's trust after their stellar conversation from the comics, about leading, civilisation and strenght, and slits her throat, taking her head as a trophee.

Then season 10, the last one, comes crashing in. It's full of references to past events, homages and memories. The premiere reminds of No Sanctuary, cause it has a huge battle in it, and it's a very long episode. Dwight, Caryl, Laura, Dianne, Jesus & a lot more, from Alexandria, Hilltop & Kingdom. (It diverges a bit from the comics there) Negan arrives and declares a short truce, pretending he wants to talk with the Militia. Beta is forced to trust him and stand back, but finds Alpha's corpse and figures out what happened. Negan reveals her head to the Militia but before he can get their trust, Beta & the Whisperers return and the battle start again. Dwight is forced to give Negan Lucille back but she breaks on Beta's back. The battle is won at the end and Alpha's head is brought to Rick when the Militia returns. Negan buries Lucille. The episode ends as Rick figures out the megaherd is coming, and the Saviors are watching it all.

On the second episode, Alexandria tries to resist to the herd. Negan & Rick fight side by side. They have their conversation from the comics where they reveal to each other the worst thing they've ever done. Maggie, Jerry & her people arrive to witness it all. A plan is quickly organized between the communities to lead the herd away. Morgan decides to lead a team with Eugene, Caryl & Jesus (and Cyndie why not) to attract them to the sea. It works, but at the end of the episode, Morgan has to save Eugene and reveals he has been bitten.

The third episode is Alexandria coping after the herd's departure. As Morgan's team returns and he spends his last moments on a bed, Sherry & the Saviors arrive to make Alexandria surrender. Rick accidentally kills her during negociation after she goes apeshit, and Morgan arrives at this moment. Negan calms down the Saviors and tells them the way he taught them was shit. Then, show diverges again, and the Saviors leave Virginia forever, heading for a new place. Everyone goes to see Morgan one last time, and he tells Rick he's the best leader possible. After he dies, Rick is really shaken, and keeps seeing Morgan's ghost (a way to keep Lennie James till the end).

Then fourth episode is Beta's weird death by Aaron & Jesus (except for the moment where he's revealed to be a basketball player or whatever, or maybe done differently). Eugene decides to lead a team to Commonwealth. Then, well then, I don't know. Oh and I don't know who gets the "Oh shit my daughter is alive" storyline. Michonne ? Carol ? Whatever. Maybe Maggie, after being at peace, decide to go on that mission for fun (see why she'd be at peace after) and finds one of Glenn's sisters ? Yeah that'd be fine.

Somewhere in the first half, issue 174 takes place, Maggie forgives Negan, and then, he either leaves forever or stays, but his storyline is quite over. Same for Maggie. She has dealth with the death of the character who brought her in the story back in season 2, and she & Dante get together. Later, issue 175 takes place too, and the midseason finale might be Rick meeting with Pamela/Madison (if there is a huge crossover or merge of both shows). The scene would be a callback to Rick meeting Deanna in 512. They come to make the deal, maybe to destroy a gigantic herd somewhere or whatever. Something that keeps the viewers hooked to watch 10b.

I don't who else dies after, but someone does. The show would end with Rick, revealing he has been bitten, passing the torch to Carl as the new leader of the communities. Throughout the season, he keeps seeing Morgan's ghost, and sees him when he looks in mirrors. But at the end, he can see himself again. He has done good. Last episode would be emotional and maybe Carl makes a list of all the people he has known and who has died, and we see flashes of them.

Soooo here it is ! The end of allllll of my Season 8 rewrites.

Hope you'll enjoy ! Leave a comment and tell what you thought of it ! Bye

Hey everyone ! I tried to post this little rewrite of the Walking Dead season 8 (and following seasons) on the main sub, but the last parts were deleted... Hope you guys will enjoy these works ! I am only posting the links to the episodes so that I don't have to spam the whole sub with a dozen different discussions. So let's get started !

Link to episode 1 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7q7nk9/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x01_i_woke_up_today_in/

Link to episode 2 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7r4ida/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x02_an_illusion_of_peace/

Link to episode 3 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7rbzky/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x03_all_the_roads_lead/

Link to episode 4 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7rml41/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x04_killer_without/

Link to episode 5 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7s18tm/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x05_scarecrow/

Link to episode 6 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7sqo9n/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x06_one_of_those_doors/

Link to episode 7 https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7tvsmn/season_8_rewrite_episode_8x07_at_the_end_of_the/

Link to a shorter sum-up of 808 and 8b https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7v6vyn/season_8_rewrite_midseason_finale_8b/

And a closer look at the finale https://www.reddit.com/r/thewalkingdead/comments/7yf5p0/season_8_rewrite_closer_look_at_8x16/

Please leave a comment and tell what you thought of it ! I'll be posting part 2 soon ! Bye

Hey everyone,

A bunch of us on the Made to Suffer RP discord server are looking for roleplayers to join up with us. Were using both Canon character and OC's. Message me if you're interested and i'll send you the link.

CHAPTER 2 – Something Unordinary

Jun ran to the cleaners to pick up his suit he rarely wore as nervousness flooded his senses. Not of what Takeshi said, but of possibly offending Jae-Eun. He rehearsed his opening line of “Hey Jae-Eun…you look great tonight” over and over, growing more and more embarrassed as he kept flubbing the line and sounding like a scared child. Chael-Sup grinned as Jun ran into the flat and bellowed “DUDE you will look great I know it!! Hey…maybe once you get some R and R maybe you can teach me your ways”

“Dude, it’s gonna be a simple dance and meet up. I don’t intend on R and R’ing her” Jun replied indignantly. There was a knock on the door prompting Jun to answer it, revealing Ruto and Shinji standing there with wide grins on their faces. “Sooooo” Shinji teased “You ready for a night of romance?” “Will you both stop it?” Jun pleaded “I already have to worry about the TPS reports that are due tomorrow, and now I have you three clowns giving me grief”

“Aw come on” Ruto replied “We only give you banter because we are happy to see you happy for once. We never see you like this, even when that old mummy of a boss hired you” Chael-Sup nodded and added “Yeah dude. Jae-Eun is a sweet girl, and you are a perfect fit for her” Jun smiled and said confidently “I hope you’re right. Well, I better get ready for the meet-up” He ran upstairs to change, coming down in a simple black & grey suit blazer with a clean white shirt underneath. “Well…how’s this?”

“You are going to rock her pink socks off” Ruto exclaimed. “Well…wish me luck” and with that Jun left. Chael-Sup leaned over and jeered playfully “He’s so not getting laid”

				====================

Jun arrived outside the NeuroNoro club only to find the doors closed. “What? Why is it closed?” he asked as he checked his phone. Suddenly two small hands covered his eyes and a gentle voice hummed “Guess who?” The hands lifted and Jun turned to see Jae-Eun standing there, a smile spread across her face and wearing a conservative red dress. “You made it…but the club is closed until tomorrow” her face fell as she looked at the entrance. “I was looking forward to seeing what the inside looked like. Oh well” Jun smiled and pointed to a small noodle shop across the street. “Maybe instead we can have dinner? My treat” Jae-Eun clapped and they went inside. After being seated Jun noticed Jae-Eun nervously fidgeting with the straw in her Milkus, and worked up the courage to ask “So…umm, tell me about yourself” God damn it Jun he thought to himself.

Jae-Eun’s childlike smile came back and she replied “What’s there to know? I’m trying to go to school for a medical degree, but my mom and dad want me to work for a bit to build up my desire to stay in school. Thus I work at the stupid ice cream shop…” she pouted as she stirred her drink “I just…I just want to be normal. I never party, I never drink. Heck the most crazy I indulge in are these highlights” Jun grinned as he touched one of them, prompting her to giggle. “So tell me about you then” she dared, giving him a playfully defiant look as she took a sip of her soda. “I uh” Jun began, hating this lack of self confidence even more “work of Haiyada Industries as an office drone. I collect American bottle-caps and stamps, and I have never played sports. I have a Korean as a roomie, I have a dad in the JSDF, and my mom lives in the mountains alone” Jae-Eun frowned “Alone?”

“Yeah…she and dad divorced about 4 years ago. They fought every day, and then one day they just up and quit…I was 23 and beginning college, so I didn’t stick around…but I still miss having Christmas with them…yeah I get two birthdays, and I get a ton of food, but I miss having a family” He looked down at his drink, trying not to let depression overwhelm him. Jae-Eun cleared her throat and said “I have my mother and two sisters…Hana and Bomin. And I guess you could count my cousin Glenn in America. But even though we are close, I still miss seeing everyone too. I get where you’re coming from, so don’t worry” She gently brushed his hand with her fingertips, sending a shock through his body. “Thanks…” Jun muttered as the food arrived. Jun watched as Jae-Eun slurped up a noodle in the cutest fashion before chuckling, only to have a spoon thrown at him. They then laughed together and began eating, smiling as they enjoyed each other’s company.

	                  ==============================

Ronin hated meetings. He also hated it when his superiors were late, and these fat balding old men were always late, either due to them banging cheap hookers or due to incontinence. He checked his expensive German watch, noticing the people were now 20 minutes late. “Come the fuck on I have better shit to do” he grumbled. A younger Yakuza member, Gokun, ran up to him and asked “Where the hell are the elders Ronin?” “Beats me” Ronin replied irritably “They are never this late” Suddenly a woman dressed in a tight, skin hugging blue dress walked up to Ronin and handed him a letter. He opened it and was greeted by a thick wad of Yen notes as well as a brief note that read “Kill Mister Hayabushi and wait for the cleaning team to arrive. You will get paid more afterwards” The woman hugged his side and whispered “You want to have some fun before the mission handsome?” she offered, kissing his cheek as peach perfume filled his nostrils. Ronin gently pushed her aside and replied curtly “I don’t bed strangers”

That night he arrived at the building and looked down at the dossier he was given. In the folder he read about his target: Hayabushi was a former Yakuza informant who leaked information to not only the CIA but the Triad, and receiving millions of Yen per transaction. He had a simple schedule: eat at a steakhouse, rent two or three cheap prostitutes, and then wait for a pick up in the building he was scoping out. He looked outside his car door window and found the security detail consisting of only 3 men armed with pistols, all of them looking as if they had never done security detail before. “Too easy” he said to himself. He pulled out his custom 1911 Kimber with a gold detailed dragon etched on the slide and screwed on an imported suppressor, before leaving his car and entering the building. The first guard drew his gun to stop Ronin but a bullet to the brain dropped him as his killer quickly brushed past him, ducking behind a corner while the other two guards rushed to see the scene. Ronin stepped out and shot them both with two lighting quick shots, easily walking over their bleeding bodies. He kicked down the door and was greeted by a large man wielding a knife, as well as a woman barely dressed attempting to locate her boyfriend’s gun.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” the man asked with a thick, fat lisp. “I test doors and bodies for holes. Looks like I found them” Ronin snarked. Ronin wrestled with the man as his strength was quickly outmatched, but he soon saw a weak spot: the man’s exposed ribs. Slamming his fist into the exposed side, Ronin soon got free of the man’s grasp before prying the knife out of his hand and stabbing him in the heart, dropping the large man. “Goddammit…” the man gurgled as blood poured from his now ripped heart. Ronin watched as the life drained from his eyes, a smile spread across his lips. He then heard a creak emanating from the bedroom. He quickly ducked as several shots rang behind the door, with the woman screaming “You piece of shit!! Die already!!” Reaching for his gun he shot the door once, and in an instant the shooting stopped. A clatter followed, and Ronin marched into the room, finding the woman clutching her stomach as blood oozed from her stomach. “Dumb bitch!” Ronin roared as he blew her head into pieces, watching as her body slumped to the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, before telling someone on the other end “Job’s done. Made a mess, but nothing your boys can’t cleanup”

“Good job. Wait there until my cleaner arrives in about an hour” “I’ll be here….waiting as your slow asses take your time” Ronin sat down the couch and lit a cigarette, kicking his feet up and grabbing a smut magazine as the clock ticked on. This was going to be another long and boring night.

			===========================

Jun and Jae-Eun walked back to the latter’s apartment, as Jae-Eun sighed happily. “So how much longer will you be working at the ice cream shop?” Jun asked, breaking the ice. “I hope not for much longer” Jae-Eun confessed “I like my coworkers, but the patrons are always creepy or awkward…besides you of course” She tilted her head and asked “What about you?” “I hope not for much longer. I want to start a business of my own…break the Masumoto military tradition. Every male member was in the army, and I want to do something different. Is that selfish of me to want that?” “No of course not. I want to do my own thing too. We can’t live in our parent’s shadows forever, otherwise we wilt and die. I think you’ll succeed” There was a long pause as they enjoyed each other’s company. Jae-Eun wanted to hold his hand, but resisted the urge. She looked at Jun and said carefully “Maybe…” before trailing off, looking away as if embarrassment stopped her, only to have Jun ask “Maybe what?”

“Maybe we can do this again tomorrow? I…want to do this again” Jae-Eun cooed, brushing her fingers against his hand. Jun smiled and replied softly “I would like that Jae-Eun…maybe this can become a routine thing?” “Maybe…who knows?” Jae-Eun teased, winking at Jun as she went inside the apartment. Jun sighed happily as he turned around and started to walk away, noticing a man carrying in a large mattress from a nearby empty building. “Hey, you need help?” he offered, with the mover replying happily “Nope, but thanks anyway friend!” The mover loaded the mattress into the nearby van and drove off, unaware of Jun watching him.

		        =============================

Ronin threw down the magazine with a huff as he glanced at his watch. The cleaner was 75 minutes late. “Not again” he groaned as he stood up and stretched his muscles. He would leave and come back in a few minutes. Maybe him leaving the cleaner defenseless will show his employers to hire better people next time he thought. As he walked to the doorframe he heard something that stopped him: the sound of a body sitting up. He looked behind him, and to his complete shock the man he killed was standing before him, looking away. “What in the fresh hell?!” Ronin gasped. The man slowly turned and faced him, his eyes now deep, muddy grey pools, with his skin a pale pink and thick black veins popping out from his face. The man snarled and growled at him like a rabid dog before stumbling towards him. Drawing his pistol he loaded 3 clean shots to the center of the man’s chest, which did nothing to stop him. Ronin then for the first time in ages felt pure, unbridled terror. He turned and started to clamber over the destroyed door, only to be grabbed by the man and pulled back. Ronin landed on the floor, stunned as the man pounced on top of him, snapping at his face as thick drool dribbled onto his clean suit. “Get off me you bastard!!” Ronin yelped, kicking the man in the face as he scrambled to get out of there alive.

He picked up his gun and fired a slug into the man’s leg, which didn’t even register as his victim lurched forward and took a bite out of his coat. His arm was unaffected by the bite, but Ronin stared in horror as the man let the thick cloth tumble out of his mouth, the crazed human now snarling loudly. Ronin fired another shot into the neck of the man, and this seemed to stun the man for a brief moment. Outside the cleaner carried up the mattress and opened the door, noticing the bodies and huffing “God, he always leaves such a mess” as he trudged up the steps. He soon saw Ronin frantically trying to escape, asking loudly “And where are you going?” Ronin watched as the undead victim grabbed the cleaner by the shoulder and sunk his teeth into his neck, a fountain of hot bright red blood shooting out. The cleaner screamed in pain and terror, as the man began ripping out chunks of flesh and consuming them without paying Ronin any mind at all. “What in the hell is this?” Ronin breathed, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest as he backed up against a wall. The man stopped feasting on the cleaner and let him drop to the floor as he approached Ronin, his mouth and teeth painted red with blood.

Ronin checked his gun: 1 round left. He then realized he hadn’t shot the man in one place…his head. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger, watching as blood, brains and bone splattered behind the man, and with a sigh of relief saw the body become limp as it dropped to the floor like a rag doll. “I…I must be dreaming…this didn’t happen” Ronin told himself as he slumped to the floor. He couldn’t shake the sight of the man’s eyes, nor the sound of his inhuman growling. He walked into the bedroom and recovered the dead lover’s gun, before dragging the cleaner’s body into the room. “No way it’s isolated” he said to himself. He sat down and waited, as cold thoughts entered his mind. For now, he would wait to test his hypothesis.

			=========================

Jun awoke to Chael-Sup violently shaking him. “Dude wake up! You gotta tell me how the night went!” The Korean nearly danced with excitement as Jun groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Dude its 6 in the morning” he groaned. “So tell me, did little Jun down there meet little Jae-Eun? I gotta know” Jun’s face twisted in disgust as he crawled under the sheets again, mumbling “Come on man leave me be” Chael-Sup heard a knock on the door and ran downstairs to answer it. There was Jae-Eun, wearing a yellow dress with a red T-shirt adorned with a flower in the center. “Hey, is this Jun’s place?” Chael-Sup nodded and ushered her in, running up the steps again. “Wake up man your girlfriend is here!” Jun shot up “WHAT THE HELL!” he exclaimed, quickly slipping on a dirty shirt and awkwardly putting on a pair of jeans…backwards.

He arrived downstairs and sleepily said “Hey there what can I do for you?” “I wanted to give you this” Jae-Eun replied, cheerfully handing him a new ticket for NeuroNoro. “They had cleaning issues, so tonight it finally opens!! Want to come with me?” Jun scanned the ticket and exclaimed “Yes I would…meet you there like we did yesterday?” Jae-Eun nodded. “And no peeking at what I am wearing until I say. I want to surprise you” She then left with a coy smile as Chael-Sup nearly exploded in excitement. “COME ON DUDE! She wants that wang!!” “She wants to dance. Nothing more, nothing less. And that is ALL I am doing tonight” Jun replied as he grabbed a rice ball to munch on. “Whatever dude. She likes you, I could see that in her eyes! She has a crush on you!!” “I feel the same…but what if I screw this up?” Jun pindered. “You won’t know until you try. Besides, maybe you two can start dating and-” “Enough with the sex jokes Chael!” Jun barked angrily, as his Korean friend laughed.

		============================

Ronin watched intently as the Cleaner remained motionless on the floor, his eyes never leaving the body. “The people I shot in the head haven’t turned in whatever the hell the guy turned into, so I must affect people who haven’t had brain damage” he told himself, as he lit his fourth cigarette. Then, as he predicted, the Cleaner’s eyes flew open, and like the man before him his eyes were grey and murky. The mouth slowly yawned open and a guttural growl gurgled from his throat. Ronin sighed. “So the rumors are true” he muttered as he stood and pressed the barrel of the gun against the cleaner’s head. Before the former cleaner could move a shot rang out, followed by the moist splattering of brains, blood and bone landing on the wall behind him. Ronin packed his few items and left the building, dialing a number on his phone. “I need to talk to the Oyabun” he barked.

“He is far too busy to talk to you Ronin” the woman on the other end snapped back. “Tell him…the rumors are true, and the illness is in Japan. I’ve seen it” There was a pause before “Okay…he’ll see you in one hour. Don’t be late” The Oyabun’s office was spotless, as expensive statutes and tapestries decorated the large room. A large cedar and purple-heart desk was in the middle, with the Oyabun, the leader of Ronin’s family group. He and Jun were only related as nephew and uncle, but the relation was that of a disliked but useful employee with his boss. The Oyabun was in his early sixties, sporting a rich silk suit and had his snow white hair cut to resemble a ponytail. To his side were two armed guards and the same woman who gave him the job, now wearing even more revealing clothes. “Ahh, Ronin! What can I do for you? I heard something about a rumor…care to elaborate?” “Your receptionist didn’t tell you?” Ronin asked. “No, she said it was super important” Ronin sighed. Figures, he thought to himself. “The rumors about this weird illness the government has been hiding? The one everyone is keeping hush hush? It’s real”

The Oyabun’s face dropped. “How do you know?” “I saw it. I killed your man with a knife to the heart, and while I waited for your cleaner, he came back to life. I shot him, but nothing stopped him” The Oyabun’s face drained. “And… the cleaner? Where is he?” “Dead. The man fatally bit him and ate part of his neck. He came back too, after he died” Ronin watched as the Oyabun began to sweat. “He ate him…holy shit…” he muttered. “Now sir do you realize what keeping this quiet means?” Ronin demanded, leaning forward and hissing “This is not going to stop naturally and you and the government BOTH know that” The Oyabun’s face dropped. “Watch your mouth Ronin…I know you think you have some sort of free will when it comes to our internal politics, but I and the others decide for you. And while yes the government is reliant on our information, they are not entirely under our thumb. Hell, if they were I would be in office!” Ronin never moved once, as he said with venom “People will die, and your grip and control will wane. Lose the country and what will you have left? You honestly think that hot piece of ass Mesuji will be our savior?” The Oyabun relaxed in his chair. “So, if this turns belly up and more and more people die, what do you think the United States and the rest of the world will think?”

“Nothing, because the disease is hitting them as well. It’s global…people in LA and New York are telling us the situation is heating up. As much as you hate dealing with the other families and their bullshit, you need to let them know both shit hits the fan”
“And what would you suggest Ronin?” the Oyabun asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sir, we need to warn the other families about this…forget our bullshit squabbles…if this is what is globally hitting every country, then we have to be prepared” Ronin said. The Oyabun nodded. “Yes…I will see if I can talk to the other rival Oyabuns at a peaceful place. In the meantime, you have another job” he handed him a slip of paper which Ronin took. “A man in the military wants you to shadow his kid…as protection” “So it’s babysitting only I don’t get paid. Wonderful” Ronin grunted cynically. =========================

That night Jun arrived at a now busy NeuroNoro to find a line waiting entry into the chrome and neon lined club. Again, like the night before he felt soft hands cover his eyes, and he gently pulled the off as he turned. There stood Jae-Eun, wearing a beige and red pencil skirt with the hips cut out, and one side of the legs cut to reveal her knees. Jun’s mouth dropped open. “Like it?” she asked, brushing aside her hair. “I love it…wow” Jun blurted out. She then took his hand and they entered the club, only to be blasted by a wall of hard house mixed Kpop and American pop, with neon lights illuminating the foyer and women on poles dancing seductively. They entered the dance floor where the DJ boomed “ALRIGHT you sexy people out there!!! This is Tokyo and let’s hear you say TOKYO!!!!” The crowd yelled “TOKYO!!” drunkenly as the DJ began to play a slow moving track. Couples clung to each other and soon everyone was dancing. Jun knew how to dance from his mother, but he never danced with anyone before. Mostly because no one wanted to. Jae-Eun took Jun’s hand and smiled, cooing “This is when you take my other hand and we dance, yeah?” Jun took her hand and they slowly danced, standing out amongst the teenagers and couples as they slowly swayed back and forth. “So I gotta ask” Jun inquired “Why did you notice me over every other guy who comes in your store?”

Jae-Eun chuckled “A bit selfish don’t you think?” “It’s not that…I just…” Jun paused “I never really got attention in school, or at work, so I thought it was something wrong with me. But then I met you…and I don’t feel like a loser” Jae-Eun looked into his eyes and said “You were never a loser…every other guy I see is either a social outcast, a horny loser, or someone thinking me being Korean equals an easy time. You were different…you were nice to me, even if you did stare a bit” Jun hung his head, but his chin was lifted by Jae-Eun’s fingers. “You’re a cute guy. Awkward, and maybe a little…blunt…but I like that…I like that a lot” Jun noticed Jae-Eun’s expression change, and felt her hand squeeze his. “Jun” Jae-Eun whispered “I want you to kiss me”

Jun blinked “Wha-what?” “Kiss me…before I regret what I may do to you” Jun leaned in to kiss her soft pink lips, before a scream echoed through the dance floor. The DJ killed the music and yelled “Ay! What the hell is going on?” as hushed gasps echoed through the building. Jun and Jae-Eun looked as the crowd focused on a single point near the back exit. A woman stumbled in, covered from head to toe in blood with a huge skid mark on her arm as if she was unaware of what was happening. The woman looked up at the group, her eyes grey and dull.

This is a work of fiction I have been working on for a little over 4 months, which takes place in Japan and follows Jun Masumoto, an Office Drone, as he tries to survive the initial outbreak of the dead. Will he survive, or will he end up another corpse? 10 chapters spanning around 4000 words each. Any criticism or comments are welcome.

Chapter 1: A Hoax:

Morning rose upon the already buzzing Tokyo, home of over 9.3 million people and brimming with celebration. A bevy of wins from the Olympics had everyone in high spirits, and some people were celebrating with drinks and feasting, with not a single care in the world However, for Jun Masumoto, this was not a time for celebrating. He scrambled to collect the papers his boss, the ever so dour and fat Mr. Nagoto, had angrily asked for an hour earlier. Jun was young, aged 27 and yet his boyish looks that defined him in college carried into his late 20s. His curly black hair bounced as he shoved a stack of papers on his desk as he dug around for more that might have gone missing. “He threatened to fire you again didn’t he?” A familiar voice playfully asked. Jun shot his head up and saw the friendly expression of his best friend and office mate, Shinji Akai, a man in his mid 20’s sporting thin glasses. “Yeah he did. I swear he’s getting more and more eager about the possibility of firing me” Jun grunted, shoving another pile of papers on his now overgrown desk. “Oh don’t be like that Jun” Shinji scoffed “You know he can’t afford to fire you. The damn fool can barely make a good cup of coffee without you operating the machine. And the fact no one else will put up with his bullshit makes you the best worker he can afford” Another friend of theirs, Ruto Yashimura, a 26 year old man with a short haircut and a pointed chin, poked his head in the cubicle and hissed “You two better shut up cause the boss is coming!!” Jun quickly shuffled the papers into a coherent neat stack as the overweight boss, a man in his 40’s with a bald head and a greasy, unkempt mustache, huffed “Masumoto! I…I need to talk to you in my office” Shinji hide his laughter as Jun gave him a worried look and followed the fat man into his messy office. He waited until the man at down in his chair and wheezed “Jun, I normally wouldn’t care about such an issue, but I need you to check the printers for any quality issues with the ink” Jun blinked “But…why me? Isn’t that IT’s job?” “It’s your job now because so many people are calling in sick that I am running short on available hands. I know your field is management and administration level analyst, but this once I need you to do the job I give you. Understand?” Jun swallowed his pride and frustration and bowed, replying curtly “Yes sir!” Jun then left the office and ran down to the printers. Later that day as the three friends met up after clocking out, with Ruto suggesting “Hey Jun, maybe we can visit that ice cream place you haunt almost every night” “I don’t haunt the place, I merely go for the slushies” Jun snapped, his cheeks flushing red. “Yeah, and it’s not at ALL because of that Korean cutie that works there, is it?” Shinji teased, playfully shoving Jun’s shoulder. “Come on guys it isn’t only because of Jae Eun!” Jun yelped. Both Ruto and Shinji paused and looked at each other, a wide smile spread across their faces. “Oh, you know her name now do you?” Shinji asked, with Ruto adding “Is she nice? I bet she is, being a Korean after all” “Both of you shut the hell up” Jun warned as they ran to Jun’s apartment, the other two friends laughing hysterically. Jun ran inside his apartment and frantically searched for a clean shirt before ransacking his roommate’s room. After he found a shirt that wasn’t wrinkled or covered in dust he ran outside to see his neighbor, Police officer Takeshi Murano, leaving his apartment one building over from his. “Hey Takeshi! Out for a stroll?” he asked. Takeshi waved and replied “Sadly no…I got called in for a domestic issue. Probably won’t end too badly…but hey, what are you up to?” “Going out with my friends for ice cream and…to meet someone” Jun said as he blushed. Takeshi laughed “Well you three have fun. Be sure to call me if you need anything, okay?” Jun nodded and ran off as Takeshi pulled out of his small parking lot and drove off. His radio then blurted loudly “Possible murder”.

		            ============================

Takeshi arrived at the scene of the supposed murder, instantly noticing the broken door and smashed glass on the floor. He had been sent here to settle a domestic abuse incident that quickly escalated into homicide. The inside of the small apartment was dimly lit and a trail of red led Takeshi to a large puddle of dark, oxidized blood. He sighed, running a hand over his balding head as he opened the bedroom door, finding a blood covered man in the corner, his eyes wide open and his face flushed white. Takeshi drew his stun gun and asked “Sir, what happened?” The man shook violently as he stared at the corpse of his wife, her body twisted and a steak knife remained jammed in her temple. “Sir, what did you do?” Takeshi asked again. The man looked at him and said in an almost whisper “She slipped and snapped her neck…while I was away” “She slipped on the knife?” Takeshi asked, his finger gently sliding onto the trigger as the man shook his head. “NO! She slipped on grease…I came home and saw her like that” “So why does your wife have a knife in her head, sir? I need you to be honest with me, okay?” The man stood and pointed at the body, chuckling softly as Takeshi raised the stun gun “Sir, why did you kill your wife?!” “She…she was dead…when I went to call an ambulance, she…she stood up” Takeshi blinked. “She…stood up after you found her dead?” “She attacked me, I stabbed her in the heart, and it did nothing. I stabbed her over and over and over again, but nothing worked! I had to stab her head…” the man cackled as Takeshi frantically decided if he should stun the man before he ended up becoming this psycho’s next victim when suddenly the man pulled out a small revolver and pointed it to his head. “Sir, drop the weapon now!!” Takeshi screamed, his hand shaking as the tazer rattled in his hands. “I’m doing you a favor officer…I need to this” the man hissed. “Doing me a favor? How?” “Because when I’m dead…I won’t turn” the man then pulled the trigger, spraying his brains across the room, as his corpse slumped on the floor. Takeshi, stunned and horrified by what happened, didn’t notice the bits and pieces of blood and bones that had struck his face, speckling it like a gruesome finger-painting. He left the room and at once 2 detectives entered the apartment. One lowered his gun and asked “What happened Murano?” “He…killed the wife and then himself. I couldn’t do anything to stop him” Takeshi mumbled. He walked out of the apartment as the two entered the crime scene behind him. He then got in his car and stared at the steering wheel, the last words the man uttered echoing in his mind… “I won’t turn”

Jun, Shinji and Ruto entered the ice cream shop and were at once greeted by a barrage of sweet smelling foods, lively music and young women dressed in 1980s style clothing. Jun sat down and watched as Shinji stared at the women, before hearing “Jun! You’re back!!” He turned and at once he saw her: Jae-Eun Rhee. She was of normal height with long black and highlighted hair, her smile accentuated by her somewhat chubby cheeks. She walked up to him and asked happily “So how was work?” “It…” Jun swallowed hard, and Ruto snickered loudly, only stopping when Jun kicked him under the table. “It went well. Normal, ordinary day. How was yours Jae-Eun?” “Better now that I finally have a friendly face in here” Jae-Eun replied, brushing back a clump of hair that fell across her face. “I need to make enough to get into the testing program, since my dad is forcing me to be self reliant” “Oh, I’m sorry” Jun blurted out. Shinji interjected “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Shinji Akai, Jun’s best friend, and this is Ruto” Jae-Eun smiled at the two, before finally saying “I need to go, but hey, maybe when you aren’t busy maybe…we could grab some food?” Jun smiled and replied “Yeah…I would like that. Tomorrow?” Jae-Eun hid her mild confusion and said with vigor “Sure! I’m not busy! Maybe you could join me at the new club that opened, NeuroNoro? I have an extra ticket some horny patron gave me” He was then given the shiny foil covered ticket which had a large “VIP” across the front. His mouth fell open. “I…I don’t know what to say” Jun stammered. “How about see you tomorrow?” Jae-Eun finished for him, winking playfully at him as she turned and left. Ruto stared at her behind until Shinji elbowed him hard in the chest. “Ow! That hurt you know!!” Ruto wheezed. “Jun, you just scored big time!” Shinji whispered, as Jun fumbled with the ticket in his hand. “Guys, I have never done anything like this…what do I do?” “First you order some damn ice cream” Ruto grunted, as he held up a hand to usher a waitress to come to their table. ============================ The Yakuza boss sat uncomfortably as the night dragged on, with each minute wearing on his already nervous conscious while his two lone guards stood by. Finally, the old man coughed “That damn coward Mitsuga bailed! Son of a bitch I knew this shit would happen!!” he gave one of the guards a look and ordered “Ronin, you go outside and make sure this isn’t an ambush” Ronin, a man in his thirties, dressed impeccably and sporting perfectly trimmed facial hair, adjusted his sunglasses as he left the small room, looking outside to find nothing around him except the deafening silence of stillness. He sniffed out of pure nihilism and came back into the room and said “Nothing outside. Looks like the guy bailed, as you said. We should go back before someone calls the cops” The old man nodded, and soon they were on the road, as they drove through the scenic countryside of lowlands Japan. The old man, Mr. Hiyen, gave Ronin a strange look and asked “So I never asked you, why are you, the son of the most powerful Yakuza family in Japan, freelancing as a hired gun? You should have been the Oyabun by now” “None of your business, sir. Just tell me who to shoot and when” Ronin grunted. Mr. Hiyen raised an eyebrow and sat back in the seat, looking out the window when suddenly the driver shouted “HOLY SHIT!!” Before anyone could react the limo slammed to a screeching halt, jarring everyone inside. “What the hell was that for driver?!” the old man bellowed. Ronin and the other guard quickly left the limo and found what had stopped the driver: a car had struck a person on the road, cutting him clean in half, with the car now planted firmly in the side of a tree, the driver’s skull crushed. “Jesus” the other guard breathed as they walked over to the top of the body, carefully stepping over the gore that covered the road. “Wonder if the poor bastard felt anything?” the guard asked as he poked the man’s head. “Doubtful” Ronin replied, huffing audibly. He saw the old man waving furiously at them, prompting him to say “Come on Daisan, let’s bail before the cops show up” As they entered the limo Ronin never took his eyes off the torso, and as they sped off away from the accident, Ronin thought for a split second he saw the man’s arm move. “No…probably a muscle spasm” he told himself as he relaxed in the seat. ============================== Jun walked in his apartment and was greeted by his roommate, Lee Chael-Sup. The Korean was stuffing his face with freshly made barbeque as Jun sat down at the kitchen table and breathed happily “Dude…I’m in” “With what?” Chael-Sup pondered as he swallowed the pile of meat. “I have a date with Jae-Eun…” Chael-Sup sat up and gasped “Dude, that’s great! So you finally asked her out” Jun slumped in his seat and replied “More like she asked me out. She gave me a ticket to that new trance club, NeuroNoro. I feel like a loser” “Don’t think about it, okay? Let’s talk about something else, okay?” Jun nodded. “Sure. So anything happen while I was at work?” Chael-Sup grinned “Dude I think I have something you’ll love. Check this out” He opened his laptop and clicked on a video. A man lying supine on a stretcher was being carried away into a ambulance when suddenly he rose, only to have the camera cut away before anything else could be seen. Jun frowned. “Come on man, we all know those stupid prank videos are all fake. Look, I bet they cut to avoid laughing” Chael-Sup shook his head “No dude, seriously! I think that guy arose after he was dead. I’ve been reading a lot of forums…people are dying and coming back” “Sure, and I will end up marrying Hikaru Utada. These are all bullshit postings. Nothing more, nothing less” Chael-Sup sighed “Whatever dude. At least now you aren’t thinking about being a loser and ruining your date” Jun threw a spoon at him before laughing. ============================= Takeshi pulled into the driveway and was soon greeted by his jovial and overly friendly wife, Natsune, or Nat as he playfully called her. “There you are! I was wondering when you would get home!” Nat said happily as she wrapped her arms around her husband’s chest. Takeshi gently squeezed her back, and silently went into the apartment they rented, adjacent to a “Food-A-Rama” grocery store. Nat immediately noticed something was amiss and asked “Takeshi, what happened? You aren’t normally this quiet…” Takeshi sat down at the kitchen and poured himself a tumbler of amber whiskey as his wife leaned over him. “Takeshi you need to tell me what happened at once!!” Takeshi slammed down the glass and shouted “FINE! I SAW A MAN KILL HIS WIFE AND THEN HIMSELF! THERE! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!” Nat was taken aback, but she nonetheless approached him, wrapping a hand around his jaw. “He…stabbed her and then blew his brains out…I couldn’t talk him down, he just…SAT there and admitted her killed her, like it meant nothing at all!” Takeshi looked at his wife and added mournfully “I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that my love” Natsune cooed “Your job is killing you Takeshi! You are getting more and more stressed out, and I’m so scared you’ll become an alcoholic. Maybe you should pursue a different job? Maybe you can work in the office sector?” “My job is fine honey” Takeshi sighed “It’s…just I didn’t expect to see what I saw, and what I heard was something I cannot really describe” Nat took her husband’s hand in hers and replied “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, okay? You know I’m here for you whenever you need me” She kissed the top of his head and smiled as Takeshi felt the stress melt away. “I am so not worthy of having you” he said softly. “No you aren’t” Nat joked “But I’m happy to have you in my life, you big oaf” =========================== Jun the next morning awoke to the sound of the lawn below being mowed. It was a Sunday and this meant he had a day off to relax and plan for the night out. Upon awakening he was greeted by Ruto, Shinji and Chael-Sup awaiting him in the dining room. “Hey buddy” Ruto exclaimed, shoving a plateful of cooked greens. “What is this?” Jun asked sleepily. “Seaweed, forest mushrooms, and something the Chinese call ‘awakening’ root. It’s for your night out with Jae-Eun” Jun groaned and clanked the plate down on the countertop. “Dude, we aren’t going to do anything afterwards. She isn’t the kind of girl you take out and…you know…do” Chael-Sup burped loudly in protest, and Shinji replied “Well she DID ask you out, so there is some interest on her part. So don’t make an assumption that NOTHING will happen, cause who knows? Maybe she just looks nice and cuddly but is actually a freak in the sheets” Jun sat down and turned on the TV, exclaiming “If I hear more of this I will go insane” as the screen warmed up. He flipped through some channels before landing on the news channel. The bulletin read: “Unknown illness spreads! Experts stunned by rapidly spreading new disease that has no cure” “Oh shit dude look” Ruto replied “Sounds like a chemical weapon made by terrorists” “More likely it’s another cry wolf incident. Remember bird and swine flu?” Chael-Sup responded, helping himself to Jun’s breakfast. Jun and Shinji however watched as people loaded trucks with dead bodies, before noticing something out of the ordinary. “Jun” Shinji pointed out “Why do they all have wounds to the head? It’s like they were all shot point blank” Jun leaned in closer and said worriedly “Maybe it’s a disease that causes bleeding from the eyes and nose. Like some sort of plague?” “No, it looks like they were shot. Where is this happening again?” Shinji fired back. Ruto looked at a nearby building and replied “It’s in Germany, I recognize the Brandenburg Gate! I wonder why they would report on something in Europe?” Jun quickly flipped over to the second news channel, and almost by pure luck a similar report was showing, this time in America. “New York struck by powerful, incurable new disease! Estimates are showing between 200-300 dead thus far. CDC and FDC investigating cause” “Dude…what are the chances the same kind of illness that hit Germany also hit America?” Chael-Sup asked nervously. “Slim to none. Like I said, it’s probably a terrorist attack” Ruto muttered as he gulped down a swig of grape juice. Jun got up and felt a pang of worry echo in his stomach. “I wonder if I should call my mom about this?” “If there was a new disease spreading in Japan, the government would let us know dude. Besides, I doubt your mom will get sick due to being in one of the loneliest areas of Japan” Shinji pointed out. Jun nodded as he left the kitchen and took a shower to prepare for the rest of the day. Around midday he checked around any website he could find for reports of illness or mass infections in the Tokyo area. He found nothing. Frustrated, he gave up as he closed the laptop. “Dammit I need to do laundry” he muttered. Before he could load the washing machine, his door rattled. Answering it he was greeted by Natsune, Takeshi’s wife. “Whats going on?” He asked. She pointed to their apartment and whispered “Talk to my husband. He shut himself in his room” Jun smiled and followed her back to their apartment, as he walked up to the bedroom. “I’ll talk to him” he said, as he smiled and patted Natsune on the back. He crept into the bedroom, where he found Takeshi sitting on the bed, staring out the window as if in a daze. “Takeshi, you okay?” Takeshi never moved as he replied “Hey Jun. I’m okay, just…lost in thought” Jun sat next to him and said “Look, Natsune is worried about you, and since you and I have known each other for ages, you should trust me” “I do, but…I just know if I told you I would sound like a lunatic. I want to tell you, but I can’t…I just can’t. I’ll be okay, yeah?” Takeshi promised, smiling as he hid pure confusion and frustration. He paused before asking “So why did you come here? You need anything?” “Actually, Natsune asked me to talk to you. You aren’t usually this…depressed” Takeshi shrugged. “The job gets to you. When you see death and depravity constantly you begin to grown numb to it. But sometimes you feel like you will end up they did. But eh, don’t let an old man bring you down. You have a date tomorrow” Jun frowned. “Who told you?” “Ruto did. For being your best friend he has a big mouth. Here” he reached in a drawer and pulled out a tiny bottle of cologne. “I think you will like it. Nat gave it to me as a gift, but it will work better for you I think” Jun smiled and nodded. “Thanks Takeshi!” He got up and began to leave the room before hearing Takeshi mutter “Jun, I need you to keep an ear out for something…people turning” “Turning into what?” Jun asked. “I don’t know…but I need you to be careful, okay?” Jun nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. ================== The car sped down the road as the driver, a clearly drunk woman that ignored the speed limit as she roared up to a tight corner. Her partner, a man whose now soiled suit was partially unbuttoned, attempted to peel off her skin tight shirt, causing the woman to laugh as her grip on the steering wheel loosened. The car within seconds slammed into a tree, with a low sprouting branch stabbing the man in the eye, while the woman was hurled through the windshield, her torso and face covered in deep cuts. Her vision became blurry, and soon darkness overtook her. (2 hours later) The coroner sighed as he looked at the two bodies in his office, the man whose skull was pierced, and the woman who died of blood loss. “This is Doctor Hikotsu Ueno, lead coroner at South Hokkaido general…the victims are a 23 year old male, and a 19 year old female. Both died from an impact into an oak tree at 2:34 AM on the 5th of September” He clicked off the recorder and began picking the shards of glass out of the woman’s face. Each piece plinked into the cup, as he carefully cleaned up and recovered what was left of her mangled face, now resembling that of a piece of meat. After the last piece landed with a solid PLINK, he clicked on the recorder again. “Initial reports are coming up negative for any possible contagion. Maybe that cold witch Mesuji is overreacting. Either way I think the next course of action besides making the poor guy’s face presentable, is to contact the next of kin” he placed the recorder down and began sewing up the cuts on the girl, as the early morning hours began to crawl forward. After finishing with the woman, he rested on the stool in the next room, helping himself to a welcomed cup of coffee. Another doctor entered and asked “Are the two crash victims ready for transport?” “Yeah I just finished. The guy took over an hour to repair the damage the fucking tree caused” he chuckled and pointed to the room. The other doctor took a look and soon exclaimed “Why did you leave her arms hanging down?” The coroner frowned and shot up, looking to see that indeed the once crossed arms were now dangling down. “Muscle spasm I betcha” he muttered, sitting down once again to drink the coffee he had waited for. The other doctor waved as he left the room, and the coroner picked up a car magazine to pass the time. In the autopsy room, the woman’s arms swung, as gravity pulled them to the ground. And then, by some miracle or curse…her eyes shot open, grey, murky and dull.

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Prologue

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened to the world. Nobody I knew saw it coming. I had suspicions of things like it, but they were empty suspicions. Ok, let me give you a rough picture of where I am right at this moment. In the cellar of a house, with a pantry stocked with supplies, including a few shotguns and a couple of Magnums. Let me explain a bit. I’m a war veteran, and I’m able to buy guns, as I have a license. My brother, Alex, is staying with me in my house, along with my best friend Jerry, his wife Stephanie, and their eleven-year old, Ryan. You know enough information.

Chapter 1 The Disease

Alex grimaced as he looked outside the window for a moment. “We’ve been holed up in this dumb house for two days.” He looked around at the others. Stephanie was watching her son, Ryan, draw on a little piece of paper. Jerry, the boy’s father, was upstairs with Marcus. Ryan looked up from his paper. “I think Alex is right! I hate this retarded house!” “Be quiet, Ryan!” Stephanie told him sternly. “You know the monsters will come if we make noise!” Jerry swung down the stairs, landing with a soft thump. He was a respectable person, wearing a uniform. He was a park ranger, and had hair that stopped just below his shoulders. “You guys need to be quiet! Those monsters are basically touching the house! I understand we’re cramped in these conditions, but whining about it won’t help. Marcus and I are deciding our, hopefully, next destination.” Alex looked at Jerry with an eyebrow raised. “How can we escape from this stupid house? The monsters are everywhere. It’s only been three weeks, and they’re already swarming the city. We need to get moving, and fast. Who knows how many there’ll be in another week? We’re running out of food fast, and the cellar is nearly empty.” Jerry sighed. “I don’t know. Marcus’s the leader. It’s up to him.” Jerry began walking back upstairs, when Marcus walked down the stairs cautiously. Everyone looked at him. Alex knew himself that he was about to say something important. Marcus took a drawing breath. “I’ve made a decision.” Alex gazed at him with protruding eyes. “I’ve determined the best location to move to.” Ryan blurted suddenly, “Where?” Marcus looked at him carefully. Ryan would always be a liability. The young, rebellious type always were. He had seen it too many times before. Marcus only hoped Jerry could keep his son from getting them killed. “I’ve decided to move to Caecil High School. It’s big, it hopefully has other people we can trust, but most important, we have security.” Jerry gave Marcus a surprised look. It was clear to see Marcus had made this plan without Jerry’s knowledge. Jerry cleared his throat. “How do you propose we get there?” “By car.”

There was a flurry of confusion as everyone emerged from their hiding places. T-Dog was bleeding profusely, Sophia had disappeared into the wilderness and Andrea had killed a walker that had made its way into the RV. Carol was beside herself even though Rick had run off after Sophia.

"Let me see that," Allison told T-Dog, grasping his arm and examining the angry cut. Blood was spewing from the wound every time his heart beat and her mind was racing, wishing that she had some sterile gauze pads and antiseptic handy. "We need to clean this to prevent infection…" she mumbled to herself.

"I got a tetanus shot two years ago at the shop clinic after a damned nail sticking out of a pallet sliced my shoulder," T-Dog told her, his face contorting in pain.

Without thinking twice, Allison removed her cotton T-shirt and wrapped it around T-Dog's forearm. She took his other hand made him grip the makeshift bandage, saying "Here, hold this in place and press hard." She led him over to the tailgate of a nearby van. "Sit down and try to keep this arm elevated."

Dale, ever the protective patriarch, rushed over with a small first aid kit. He produced a gauze pad and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol and handed both to Allison. She removed the bloody T-shirt, refolded it so that a clean portion was available and poured the alcohol onto it. "This is going to hurt, but I have to do it…." She cleansed the wound as best she could and T-Dog swallowed his screams of pain, knowing that any noise might attract walkers that might be lurking nearby. His forehead broke out in beads of sweat as he clenched his eyes shut. Allison then covered the wound with the gauze pad and strapped it into place with the duct tape Dale handed her.

"Good thing you don't have hairy arms for when she rips that off later," Dale joked, hoping to lift T-Dog's spirits. He then noticed that Allison was now wearing nothing more than a flimsy cotton camisole. "Here," he said, taking off the button-down shirt that he'd worn over his wife beater. "You might want to put this on."

"Thanks." She slipped into the oversized garment. "I'll make sure to return it." To T-Dog she said "Are you – or were you - on any daily medications? Baby aspirin? Anything at all?"

"No," he replied, breathing heavily.

"Diabetes runs in your family, you mentioned before, have you been tested recently?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good, it's all good," he gasped. "I get an annual physical…."

"OK, just sit still for a few while I go get another shirt." She gestured with her head for Dale to follow her as she went back to the truck to rummage through her bag. She found a short-sleeved pullover among her things and slipped it on. "A tetanus shot is fine to guard against infection from soil or feces," she said quietly to Dale as she handed him back his shirt, "but there's a whole mess of other bacteria that could make him sick from that cut…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed that Dale was not paying strict attention to her.

"Andrea, are you OK?" he asked the blonde woman anxiously as she stepped down out of the RV trying to stifle her sobs. "Yes," she barely spoke, holding up a hand warning him to keep his distance. "I'm fine…"

Lori cradled Andrea in her arms as Shane and Daryl pulled the dead walker from the Winnebago and tossed it unceremoniously on the side of the road. Moments later Rick emerged from the forest and stepped over the metal highway barrier. Carol slumped in sorrow as she stepped toward him, her entire posture pleading. "You…didn't find her…?"

Rick tried to explain that he'd tucked Sophia away in a hollow log and had given her instructions for making her way back to the road while he lured the walkers away from her. Carol broke down into sobs, asking "How could you leave her?" while some of the others tried to explain how Rick had done his best to save Sophia's life. For heaven's sake, Allison thought to herself, we're all flying by the seats of our pants, acting on instinct with no script. Rick had certainly displayed more logic under pressure than most folks if he'd taken the time to tell Sophia to keep the Sun over her left shoulder. But Carol was inconsolable.

When Daryl and Rick announced that they were headed back into the woods to search for Sophia, Allison piped up "I'll go with you."

"No," Rick said. "Daryl and I can handle it…I need you to stay here so you can – "

"So I can what?" Allison asked him pointedly. "I can't fire my rifle, that would attract walkers. I can't help T-Dog without any antibiotics…"

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Daryl said impatiently, stepping over to his motorcycle. "Keep your oily rags off my bike," he told Dale, tossing a cloth his way. "Merle's got a whole pharmacy here," he mumbled as he picked up a large Zip-Loc bag. "Crystal, X, Doxycycline…" he tossed a bottle of the last to Allison. "That's the good stuff, the name brand, not a generic. Merle used to get the clap on occasion…"

Allison opened the bottle and handed T-Dog a caplet. "Where's that bottle of pink water?" she asked, looking around. "You need to pump fluids with this pill." Dale approached with a full bottle of water. "You also need to try to stay out of the sun," Allison told T-Dog as he chased the pill with a large slug of water. "It could make you sick to your stomach and you can't afford to barf up that pill."

She handed Dale the baggie of medications to store away in a safe place and then faced Rick. "I can track, maybe not as well as Daryl, but two sets of eyes are better than one when it comes to reading signs."

"OK," Rick relented. Allison quickly slipped her backpack on and followed the two men into the woods. She walked carefully, simultaneously trying to not disturb any evidence while also not stepping on any twigs that might snap or rustle and alert any nearby walkers. She silently followed Daryl's soft whistles and gestures indicating which way to proceed. Rick, less experienced when it came to following someone in the woods, peppered Daryl with questions until the veteran hunter finally asked in exasperation "Do you want a lesson in trackin' or do you want to find this little girl?"

The trio spread out ever so slightly when a lone walker approached. Daryl easily pierced the geek's skull and brought it to the ground. Allison and Rick approached it and exchanged glances. Rick finally reached a gloved hand into the walker's mouth. "There's some flesh in its teeth," he announced. "It's eaten something recently."

Allison dug into her backpack and pulled out a pair of gloves. "Is it human…?" she began to ask as Daryl reached upward with his knife grasped in both hands. "Only one way to tell," he stated, bringing the blade down in a vicious chop. "Hold on, hold on," Allison pushed him back at the wrists. He withdrew his knife from the walker's chest cavity with a questioning look on his face. "If we're going to examine its stomach contents, we have to do this carefully," she explained. She looked up at Daryl. "May I borrow your knife?"

He sat back on his heels and handed the weapon over to her. Allison hovered over the carcass. "I think the most efficient way is a Lazy 'S' incision if we want to preserve the stomach contents…." She dramatically cut into the walker's abdomen and then carefully peeled the tissue back. She stole a brief sidelong glance at Rick, who was (to her amusement) rapidly turning an alarming shade of green. "Whew!" Allison paused and sat back for a moment. "You never get used to that smell, do you?" She saw Daryl looking first at Rick then at her; she could've sworn the outdoorsman was suppressing a grin. She returned to the task at hand, digging both her hands into the abdominal cavity and enjoying how the squishing sounds were making the veteran policeman audibly gag. She pulled out a large, semi-solid maroon-colored blob and held it aloft.

"Ever seen a liver like this?" She asked before setting it aside.

"Not since breakfast," Daryl commented, playing along with her. Rick suddenly turned and crawled away on all fours a few steps before retching.

"You're one sick chick, you know that?" Daryl said to Allison with a slight shake of his head.

"Hey, sometimes you gotta find laughs where you can when the situation is desperate. Lightens the mood a bit, helps to break the tension."

"If you think a missing little girl is a laughing matter, I guess," Daryl's mood turned somber once again.

"Sometimes laughter the only thing that keeps a person from completely breaking down…" Allison murmured as she probed the walker's innards once again and pulled a pinkish organ out of the cavity as far as she could. It undulated in her two hands and Daryl asked "Is that the gut bag?"

"Yeah, I think that's the medical term for it…" she replied. "Can you grab the knife and cut that connective tissue – " she inclined her head "- so we can remove it?"

With a few deft movements Daryl had severed all the connections and took the stomach from Allison. He set it on the ground and sliced it open. Rick had recovered and was now watching with guarded interest. "Hoss had a big meal not long ago," Daryl commented, groping inside the stomach with a gloved hand. He pulled out a piece of bone, something that appeared to be part of a small animal's skull. Daryl was having trouble grasping the slimy contents so he used his knife as a probe and pulled out a small piece of fur matted with blood and other bodily fluids. "Gross bastard had himself a woodchuck for lunch."

Everyone slowly stood up as Daryl cleaned off his knife. "At least we know," Rick commented. "At least we know," Daryl affirmed.

The trio returned to the highway where the rest of their group stood waiting. Carol's anxious face broke Allison's heart as Rick shook his head and indicated that their search hadn't turned up anything.

"Is that…blood?" she asked, looking at their spattered clothing.

"Took down a walker," Rick explained.

"It didn't get her, though," Daryl quickly reassured Carol.

"How can you know that?" she asked, her eyes tearing up.

The three trackers exchanged glances. "Field autopsy," Allison finally said over her shoulder as she headed to the water truck Shane had discovered earlier to rinse herself off.

"It's getting' dark," Rick told Carol. "We'll pick the search back up tomorrow at first light."

‡ ‡ ‡

Early the next morning Allison elected to stay on the highway with T-Dog and Dale after hearing the petty arguing going on about who should carry a gun while searching for Sophia and who shouldn't. Gunfire would just attract walkers and probably frighten Sophia, if she was within earshot, but some folks (I'm looking at you, Andrea, Allison thought to herself) just didn't seem to get it. Some folks (Andrea again) seemed to think it was a concerted effort by the men in the group to demean the women, keep them in their place, make them seem weak and unable to protect themselves by denying them guns. Or, in terms Allison would never dare speak out loud - remembering the pain of Grandma's wooden spoon against the side of her head -Andrea was desperate to be all bad-assed, like this was some sort of Rambo sequel.

She fetched some more water bottles from the delivery truck and handed one to T-Dog with another Doxycycline tablet. "How come you didn't go out huntin' for that little girl with the others today?" he asked her after downing a healthy slug of water.

Allison shrugged. "Didn't seem like I was needed. They've got what, seven or eight pairs of eyes all walking in a big ol' clump together. A more productive search would mean everyone spreading out, but I suppose that's too dangerous right now. So, not to sound too self-absorbed or anything, but I didn't see any need in exhausting myself traipsing through the dense Georgia woods in this heat when I won't do any good. I can better use my time browsing through these vehicles for supplies."

"Well just don't wander too far," Dale cautioned her. "Let's all stay within visual distance of one another, shall we?"

T-Dog struggled to his feet from his perch on the steps of the RV. "At least I can help scavenge for shit…sorry, I mean 'crap'. Or 'stuff'. I keep forgettin', Daryl told me not to swear in front of you."

Allison couldn't help but smile. That good ol' boy Daryl reminded her of so many of the rough-hewn men she'd known while growing up. She remembered stopping by Loot Starkins' Truck Stop Saloon many a Sunday afternoon with her granddaddy when she was a little girl after fishing all morning. The place would be filled with rednecks who cussed and spat and talked about things they'd done with women that she didn't really understand, but which made many of them wander over to their table and buy her an ice cold Coca-Cola or a small bag of potato chips while apologizing to Granddaddy "I'm sorry the little lady heard that." And they always left in time to get home for Sunday dinner 'cause their Mamas were expecting them and would be upset if they were late after she'd spent all afternoon cooking.

"T, you've got an infection and you need to rest. Ideally, you should be in bed."

"This is ridiculous, my fever's broke, I feel much better, I need to be doing something…"

Allison sighed and put her hands on her hips. "It's always the same with you men – 'I'm fine, I'll rub some dirt on it and walk it off' – like it's an insult to your manhood to actually take care of your body when you're sick. Well, listen up; you need to rest and let the antibiotics do their thing. I don't want to scare you, but without blood tests I can't tell if you have sepsis or not and it's better to err on the side of caution. Septic shock can cause blood clotting and organ failure. Hopefully we got you the doxy in time, but this is not the time to overtax yourself. Not to mention that you probably need stitches in that arm and if you move it around much more you're going to rip that incision open and start bleeding again."

T-Dog muttered something about women being overly dramatic, but he stayed put.

"I'm going to go back upstairs," Dale told Allison, gesturing to the roof of the Winnebago, "and keep watch. Don't wander too far away, OK?"

"OK," she replied and began rifling through the purses and handbags and small carry-on type bags she found in nearby cars. She knew that that's where she'd find things like Tylenol, tampons, Midol, wet wipes, batteries and other small necessities. She'd filled three satchels quite full when she heard some commotion up the road. Pulling her head out of an SUV she saw Glenn, Andrea and the others stepping over the guardrail and talking to Dale.

"And you just let her go?" she heard Dale ask.

"Climb out of my ass, old man," Daryl retorted. "She knew Lori and Carl by name."

"What's going on?" Allison asked as she approached the group.

"Carl got shot, apparently," Glenn answered, sounding like he was still trying to work out what had happened. "Andrea got attacked by a walker, and this girl on a horse just appeared out of nowhere, like Zorro…."

"Are you OK?" Dale asked Andrea anxiously, but she just pushed passed him silently and disappeared inside the Winnebago.

"She gave us directions to her farm," Glenn went on. "It's not far from here. Said something about her daddy being a doctor, but that Lori should come right away."

"I'm not leaving while my daughter is still out there," Carol stated.

"We could stay the night, give us enough time to rig some kind of sign, leave some supplies for Sophia," Daryl suggested.

"I'm in," Andrea said, stepping back out of the RV and raising a hand as if voting.

"If the RV stays, then I stay," Dale announced.

"Well, if you're all staying…" Glenn started but Dale cut him off. "I think T-Dog needs to get to that farm. It's a safe place where he can rest. He's got a raging blood infection…" He looked at Glenn pointedly.

"Aw, geez, why is it always me…?" Glenn muttered.

"Because you know the way there, and I can't drive a stick," Allison told him. From what Glenn had said it sounded like Carl was in competent hands, and she didn't want to leave the rest of their group without some sort of medical expertise in case someone else got injured. She tried to reassure herself that that was all that was keeping her on the highway; that it had nothing at all to do with Daryl remaining behind...

Glenn opened the driver side door of Carol's Jeep Cherokee and got in while T-Dog slid into the passenger seat. Glenn started the engine and put the Jeep in gear. "Hey!" He stuck his head out the window. "This has an automatic transmission, not a stick!"

"Oops, my mistake! Well, you're already in there and set to go, so you might as well go on ahead," Allison replied with a shrug and a slight smile.

It was after midnight but Allison hadn't slept a wink on the bench-style sofa in the RV. The heat and humidity were stifling and Carol's muffled sobs only made the atmosphere more that much more depressing. Apparently Daryl had been tossing and turning, too, for suddenly he clambered to his feet and announced "I'm gonna go out, take a look around for Sophia…maybe she'll notice the light." He threw his crossbow over his shoulder, picked up a flashlight and grabbed a revolver. I'll need my clip," he told Andrea, who was sitting nearby at a table noisily fussing with the parts of her disassembled handgun. "I'll go with you," she volunteered. "I can't sleep, either," Allison said, standing up and slipping on the belt that held her sheathed machete, "mind some extra company?" Daryl grunted in response and exited the RV followed by Andrea. "Carol?" Allison called out softly. "Will you be OK alone for a little bit if we go looking for Sophia?"

"Mm-hmm," Carol murmured with a sniffle. "Dale's right upstairs if you need him," Allison added as she left.

"Do you think we'll find her?" Andrea asked aloud as the trio stepped carefully through the woods.

"You got that look on yer face the same as everybody else," Daryl replied with an edge of irritation to his voice. "What's wrong with you people? We just started looking. This ain't the mountains of Tibet, it's Georgia."

"But she's only 12 years old…" Andrea continued.

"Hell – um, heck, I was younger 'n that when I got lost in the woods for nine days, eatin' berries and wiping my….butt with poison ivy."

"And nobody found you?" Andrea asked.

"My old man was off on a bender with some waitress and Merle was doin' another stint in juvie. No one even knew I was gone. Finally got home and made myself a sandwich. I itched something awful, though."

Andrea snickered. "I'm sorry, but that's an awful story."

"Yeah, well, at least Sophia has someone lookin' for her, I'd say that's an advantage."

"What kind of sandwich did you have?" Allison, who had remained silent during Daryl's story, asked a few moments later.

Daryl stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at her. "What?"

"You said you'd been lost for nine days and when you got home you made a sandwich. I was just curious what kind of sandwich you made."

"What the heck kind of stupid question is that?" he spat and continued walking. They walked in silence for a few minutes then Daryl muttered "Peanut butter and bologna."

"Yech," Allison murmured. "It's better than thinking about his itchy ass," Andrea told her.

Allison felt herself blushing. She wondered what the others would think if they'd known how many times she had actually surreptitiously studied the hunter's firm backside when he wasn't looking. Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar snorting and gurgling sound.

"What the hell…?" Daryl mumbled as they approached a walker dangling by its neck from a tree branch. He shined his flashlight on a nearby note. He read it out loud. "Got bit, fever hit, world gone to shit, might as well quit." He shook his head. "Dumb bast- er, moron didn't even have the sense to shoot himself in the head."

"At least he had the presence of mind to write his suicide note in rhyme," Allison commented. "I couldn't compose a poem right now, when I've got all the time in the world. Can't imagine coming up with one if my brain was about to fry up from a fever."

"Looks like the walkers ate most of his leg muscles…" Daryl observed. The sound of gagging made him and Allison turn and look at Andrea. "You OK?" he asked her.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she moaned.

"Go ahead, if you gotta," he replied.

"I wonder if he feels pain, is that why he makes all that noise….you know, it's amazing that they can walk and respond to noise with nothing but a brain stem. Medically speaking, with so much of the brain destroyed, they should all be more or less comatose." Allison mused, remembering the MRI Jenner had showed them. "And why are they always hungry? How are they even digesting food…?"

Andrea interrupted her by bending over and retching. "I thought we were going to change the subject," she complained, wiping her mouth.

"Just getting' you back for laughing at my poison ivy story," Daryl told her.

"Besides, that isn't nearly as gross as a bologna sandwich," Allison added, gesturing over her shoulder to the struggling walker.

"What's wrong with bologna?" Daryl asked. "Not fancy enough for you? Sorry, but I was fresh out of watercress that day."

"Has nothing to do with 'fancy'…I've just always loathed bologna for some reason. I like salami, ham, corned beef, even Spam…I can stomach almost any cold cut, but bologna has always turned my stomach. Don't know why. Oh, and head cheese disgusts me, too. It's so gelatinous and chunky…"

Andrea turned away and silently held out a hand in a "stop" gesture. Daryl, wise to Allison's little game by now, couldn't resist. "What about olive loaf?" he asked Allison. "Or – "

"Enough!" Andrea yelled before squatting down and dry heaving for several minutes.

"You two are both a couple of shits," she snapped at them once she'd gained her composure. She turned as if to leave and then paused. "Are you just gonna leave him like that?" she asked Daryl, inclining her head toward the walker.

"Why not? He ain't hurtin' nobody." He paused and studied Andrea for a moment. "Why are you so concerned all of a sudden? You decided you wanna go on livin' in this world now?"

"An answer for an arrow," she responded. "Deal," he agreed and shot the walker neatly between the eyes. He looked at Andrea expectantly. She pondered a moment and then told him "Maybe."

"Not much of an answer," Allison commented as the trio simultaneously started heading back to the RV. "Waste of an arrow, too," Daryl snorted. "'Maybe,'" he echoed mockingly.

"Were you really serious about staying behind at the CDC?" Allison asked as they walked. "Or was that just a spur-of-the-moment grief thing? I mean, because of your sister…" her voice trailed off, realizing too late that she might've struck a sensitive nerve.

Andrea sighed. "I think I would've stayed, had it not been for Dale. Even before Amy died, I wasn't exactly hopeful about life the future...and by the future I mean tomorrow and the day after. I think the only reason I didn't pack it in before that because she was looking to me to take care of her. But in the back of my mind I kept wondering why were we bothering to struggle so? What is there out there for us in the end? Just a constant never-ending 24/7 worry about finding food and shelter and not getting bitten? I still wonder about that sometimes…" She looked at Allison. "Seriously, hasn't 'opting out' ever crossed your mind?"

"Honestly? No. Just like the bologna, it's something that I can't really explain. Maybe it's because I'm curious…or as my Grandma used to always say "nosy"…and I want to see what's going to happen next. What caused this thing? Will it get worse before it gets better? Who else is out there alive? I'd like to stick around to find out the answers. I can't really imagine many scenarios where I'd want to snuff myself."

"Really? What if you had a terminal disease or something? I'm sure you saw plenty of that, working in a hospital."

"Not as much as you'd think. The majority of people hold out hope no matter how bleak the prognosis. That's why there's so much money to be made in quack remedies. Folks going to Mexico for coffee enemas and such when their cancer has metastasized to the liver and pancreas, things like that. Very few people sign a Do Not Resuscitate order, even though when they're young and healthy they always say 'when my time comes I don't want to be kept alive by machines.'"

"The survival instinct is the strongest instinct in animals, including humans," Daryl commented. Then, with a sidelong glance at Andrea, he added "most humans, anyway."

"Anyway, it's hard to say unless you're actively going through the situation, but off the top of my head I think the only two cases where I'd prefer not to live is if I was diagnosed with ALS – Lou Gehrig's Disease - or if I suffered a very severe burn over more than 50 percent of my body."

"Seriously?" Andrea persisted. "Not terminal cancer, or Alzheimer's Disease…?" "Everyone has different pain thresholds," Allison replied. "Chemotherapy is nasty, but not intolerable. And there's always that glimmer of hope in the back of your brain that maybe a new treatment or a cure might be found in the next few months. Alzheimer's? Once it gets to a certain point, the patient isn't even aware of what's going on. It's more painful and taxing for the family members and caretakers than for the patient. But ALS…the mind stays intact while the body fails. Eventually you can't even breathe on your own, or swallow, but your mind is alert and fully aware as you very slowly waste away." She shuddered involuntarily.

"Well this conversation is really freakin' uplifting," Daryl complained as they approached the highway. His mood suddenly turned sour. "And now we gotta tell Carol that we didn't find her daughter. Sweet freakin' dreams, everyone." He strode into the Winnebago wordlessly, not meeting Carol's eyes as she peered down at them from the roof of the vehicle. "Anything…?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Sorry," Allison replied quickly, as she ducked into the RV. "We'll look again tomorrow," Andrea promised as Carol sank back into her lawn chair. Dale, seated next to her, wordlessly reached over and gently patted her hand.

Morning couldn't have come soon enough for Allison. She'd slept fitfully and intermittently, not just because of some slight dizziness, but because her mind kept replaying that scene in the rec room. Shane's face pressed against Lori's, pushing her backward and Lori striking out at him. My God, what was going on with these people? We're supposed to be a group. She's married to the sheriff, no? Why was Barney Fife doing almost raping her? From what Allison had surmised in the short time she'd been with the group Shane was Rick's best friend and on-duty partner. And, most confusing of all, why didn't Lori want anyone to know of the incident? This seemed like it should be some sort of red flag alert that needed to be conveyed to the other women in the group – don't be caught alone with Shane; he may be a cop, but he is dangerous and not to be trusted. Yeah, she'd promised Lori she'd keep quiet, but she was drunk when she'd made that spur-of-the-moment vow. Now that she'd had time to think about it silence didn't seem like such a good idea.

Tired of tossing and turning, Allison finally got up and wandered to the communal ladies' room. She glanced at the digital clock on the wall. Six o'clock. The one morning she could've slept in, should've slept in, and she's up with the sun. She washed her face and was just finishing brushing her teeth when Lori walked in. Upon spying Allison at the sink she immediately turned as if to leave.

"Lori, wait," Allison tried to articulate as she spat toothpaste into the basin. She stood up straight and faced the dark-haired woman. "We need to talk."

Lori removed her hand from the door handle and turned toward Allison. "There's nothing to talk about," she said, her eyes wide with either fear or surprise.

"Oh, I think there is," Allison said very pointedly. "I know I wasn't supposed to be there last night, but I also know what I saw. Shane attacked you. Cripes, he looked like he would've raped you if I hadn't interrupted!"

"It's not what you think," Lori said, her face now pleading as she stepped toward Allison. "Shane and I….well, we have sort of a special…relationship…" She paused and sighed. "It's very complicated."

"Sexual assault is complex?" Allison stated incredulously, not quite believing what she was hearing. After a few moments of silence Lori spoke again.

"Please, Shane didn't mean anything, I'll take care of it. I just need you to promise me that you'll never tell anyone what you saw, what happened… Really, everything is OK."

"No, it's not OK. He's dangerous. I think the other women have a right to know that."

"He's not dangerous," Lori insisted. "He would never hurt any of the women here. What happened last night happened because he loves me…" her voice trailed off.

"He loves you," Allison repeated in a sarcastic monotone. "You know," she continued, shaking her head slightly in revulsion, "I've read romance novels about women who enjoy their strange little brutal rape fantasies, but I've never had the pleasure of meeting such a woman in person, how do you do?" She extended her hand for a mocking handshake.

"Allison," Lori repeated, grasping Allison's hand with both of hers and pulling it tightly to her chest, "I need you to promise not to tell anyone about what happened. Please."

Allison released her hand from Lori's grip and went back to the sink to gather her toiletries. "Don't worry, your sick little secret is safe with me, lady, if that's what you want," she sighed with disgust.

"Thank you," Lori whispered and then fled from the room.

When Allison arrived in the dining area, T-Dog was already hard at work dishing out breakfast.

"Hey, Doc, I hope you're feelin' better than the rest of our crew," he laughed, handing her a plate. He nodded toward the long table where Glen and Rick were both showing the obvious signs of a nasty hangover.

"My head feels fine," Allison told him as she found a seat, "but my stomach sorta feels like I've swallowed a warm, fuzzy mitten."

"Oh, God," Glenn moaned, "don't talk about that."

"A hearty serving of the Dog's famous powdered scrambled eggs will fix you right up," their shiny-headed chef assured her.

Shane entered the room and staggered to the stove. "Dude, what happened to you?" T-Dog asked.

"What?" Shane asked sleepily.

"Your neck." Everyone's attention was turned toward the very red jagged scratches on the side of Shane's neck.

"Oh," Shane was momentarily caught off guard. "Must've scratched myself in my sleep." Allison didn't miss the look he exchanged with Lori and wondered if anyone else in the room had noticed it.

When Dr. Jenner walked into the room he'd barely had time to sip his coffee before Dale and Andrea started peppering him with questions about the blood tests he'd taken and the overall situation. What exactly was going on and what was being done about it? Jenner eventually led them back into the "control center" – the room with all the computer terminals and Vi at the ready to answer questions.

"Vi, show TS-19," Jenner called out, and the group turned their attention to a huge video screen.

"What is that?" someone asked.

"It's a human brain," Allison commented before Jenner could reply. "It looks a little like an MRI, but not quite…"

"It's an enhanced time-lapse MRI of Test Subject 19," Jenner explained. "An employee who agreed to be studied after becoming infected. See those white bursts of light blinking? Those are synapses – electrical impulses that transport messages through the brain and make us who we are. They store memories, they help us to reason, to move our various muscles, to see, to speak…."

Suddenly the blinking lights went dark on the screen. "The virus slowly invades the brain and kills everything, all the electrical impulses." The group stood silently and watched as a small portion of the brain re-illuminated. "We're not sure why, but after a period of time – anywhere from three minutes to eight hours or more – a small portion of the brain stem re-ignites, becomes re-animated."

Suddenly an obvious diagonal line cut through the picture on the screen. "What was that?" someone asked.

"A bullet. Someone shot them in the head," Andrea replied.

"How did you manage to introduce a metal object like a gun in an MRI machine without totally distorting the picture?" Allison asked.

"As I said before, this was a very highly specialized, enhanced machine," Jenner explained.

"OK, I can understand that," Allison stated. "But what I can't understand is how a person with such limited brain function can actually stand upright and walk and know to follow sounds or light to find food. I've seen anencephalic babies – infants born with nothing more than a brain stem – and they rarely survive past their first birthday, much less ever learn to walk or feed themselves."

"That's part of the mystery of this disease, whatever it is," Jenner admitted. "We lost our lines of communication with other institutions before anyone really had a handle on this thing. The last we heard was that France was starting to isolate some important information before they lost power, too." He sighed and sat down in his swivel chair.

"I have to ask," Dale piped up, "what exactly is that clock that seems to be counting down backwards?"

Jenner spoke very deliberately as he explained that those minutes ticking away on the digital clock were all that were left as far as the CDC was concerned. Once the clock hit zero, the entire building would instantly incinerate. As the group processed that information panic started to set in and a dozen frantic questions were asked. But Jenner was strangely subdued, almost hypnotic, as he tried to convince them that this was the best solution – that burning to death in one quick blaze would be painless.

"Are you kidding?" Allison shouted as Daryl and Shane pounded at the door that had suddenly closed and locked. "Have you ever seen a burn victim?" She shuddered as she recalled the mandatory rotation she'd spent in Durham Regional's burn unit. Fire victims who had almost literally cooked to death but had had the misfortune of surviving…their body fat literally melting until the skin surrounding it split open. The skin, the body's largest organ and protective layer, laced with nerve endings, flayed wide open leaving the patient in unbearable, unrelenting pain that even near-lethal doses of morphine didn't begin to ease. Even if death occurred in a matter of seconds, as Dr. Jenner claimed, those last seconds would be spent in agonizing pain.

Shouts filled the room, Carol hugged Sophia and sobbed, Daryl and Shane threatened Jenner with bodily harm, Rick tried to restrain them and simultaneously reason with the doctor and T-Dog kept attacking the locked door with an axe. Chaos reigned for the next few minutes and then Jenner finally relented and punched in a code that opened the door. Allison grabbed the bags she'd packed earlier and rushed out as quickly as her feet could carry her only to be met by yet another set of locked glass doors. More panic, more shouting and she sat down on the floor and wondered if she should have stayed behind with Jenner, Jacqui, Andrea and Dale after all. Was it better to die in a group hug or die screaming and clawing helplessly at the front door? Somewhere in the distance she heard Rick yell for everyone to get down and the next thing she heard was a massive explosion. But her flesh surprisingly wasn't on fire; instead she was being pulled to her feet by someone and she heard voices calling "Go! Go! Go!" Her feet started moving automatically and she ran outside toward the vehicles they'd left behind only a day ago. Seconds later she was in Dale's RV, gasping for breath. She looked out the windshield and saw a massive fireball in the distance with two crouched figures running toward the vehicle. Apparently Dale and Andrea had changed their minds at the last minute.

Allison moved to the back of the RV, found a bench-like seat and curled up in a semi-fetal position. She was physically and mentally exhausted and quite frankly didn't care where they were headed or whether or not there was even a plan in place. She dozed off into a dreamless sleep as the caravan made its way back onto the freeway. She was eventually awakened by footsteps and activity around her.

"Are we there yet?" she asked sleepily as she sat up.

Receiving no response she simply got off the bench and followed everyone outside. She heard the "hiss" of the RV's overheated radiator over the chattering voices of everyone else.

"I knew this would happen eventually," Dale said, very close to throwing his hat down on the ground in frustration.

"Maybe we can find a hose to fix it in one of these other vehicles," Glenn stated, shielding his eyes against the sun as he gazed down the road.

"We can at least scavenge some supplies from these cars," Daryl muttered as he strode off, peeking into windows.

"This is a graveyard," Lori spoke up. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with this."

The group froze in place for a moment and digested her comment. Allison was the first to reply.

"Are you kidding? OK, when your son is starving to death in a day or two please be sure to tell him that we don't have any food because you didn't want to desecrate the dead…." She shrugged and strode off, machete at the ready in one hand as she opened the passenger door on a nearby car.

The rest of the group seemingly silently agreed with her since they began wandering among the stranded vehicles searching for anything that might be of use. T-Dog returned to the Winnebago and retrieved a gas container and length of hose and he and Daryl began siphoning precious fuel from the stalled cars. Allison was rifling through a woman's purse she'd found in one car and pocketing the Midol and Handi-Wipes she'd found when she heard Carol speak. She pulled her head out of the car and looked to where Carol was browsing through suitcases in the back of an SUV.

"We're going to need clothes," Carol commented, pulling out a red short-sleeved shirt. She caught Allison's glance and then said, almost sheepishly, "Ed never let me wear nice things like this." Allison presumed that "Ed" was the abusive husband whom Carol had made mincemeat out of with an axe back at camp. She instructed Carol "Hold it up under your chin." She then took a step back and considered the garment with a critical eye. "That color suits you," she told Carol. "You should take it."

Dale kept watch atop his Winnebago while the others (save for Andrea) made their way along the road. Suddenly he alerted Rick, who whisper-yelled to those nearest him – walkers were approaching! Everyone took cover as best they could underneath various vehicles, but T-Dog accidently cut his arm on some jagged automobile metal while ducking for cover, leaving a nasty and profusely bleeding gash. Allison watched from underneath a minivan as Daryl, the supposedly racist redneck, emerged from his hiding place to kill a walker and then place its carcass on a prone T-Dog as a cover.

The huge group, or "herd" as they would later describe it, of walkers slowly passed by as everyone held as still as possible in their various safe places. As the last one shuffled by, Sophia, Carol's daughter, started to wriggle out from underneath a car. The very slight noise she made attracted two walkers who were lagging behind the herd. Frightened, the child ran toward the nearby woods, clutching her doll, her mother's screams stifled by Lori, who was lying beside her beneath a vehicle.

Allison and Daryl had ridden in silence for about 20 minutes before he finally spoke.

"So you're a doctor and you're afraid to ride with Jim 'cause he got bit? Do you know something about this sickness that the rest of us don't?"

"No, no, not at all. It's just…." She sighed. "He's in pain and he's not going to get any better. It probably would've been more humane to …. do what you said back at camp."

"I thought doctors were used to seeing people in pain."

"We are, but that doesn't mean it still doesn't make us uncomfortable. Besides, in a traditional setting, we'd have painkillers and other palliative care to treat his symptoms, take the edge off of his pain."

"You think it's a lost cause, hopin' for a cure for Jim at the CDC," Daryl stated with a touch of questioning in his voice.

"Again, I know as much about this disease as you do, but to my mind any 'cure' would have to come as immediately as possible after a bite, just like a rabies shot. At the progress we're making, by the time we get to the CDC the infection will have had hours to invade and infect him."

"So what the hell are we all goin' there for?" Daryl asked, as if confirming in his own mind that this trek was a waste of time and gasoline.

"I dunno," Allison admitted. "Maybe they'll at least offer shelter or tell us where we can find shelter…"

"I gotta tell ya, this conversation is depressing the hell outta me. I think I liked it better when you were quiet."

"I can be quiet, if that's what you want, or you can choose a new topic of discussion. Whatever."

"OK, new topic – how come a fancy-ass rich girl like you knows how to hunt? Was that your daddy's idea of slummin', or did he teach you at his country club?"

Allison regarded him with surprise. "What makes you think I'm rich? Or ever was?"

Daryl snorted with sarcastic laughter. "Even us backwoods hicks know that it costs money to go to Duke."

"Unless you get an academic scholarship," Allison amended. "For your information, I grew up in a small house in Toccoa, on a couple of acres of land that my daddy inherited from his daddy. He worked for the local power company, stringing electrical lines and fixing traffic lights. Not exactly life in the fast lane. I studied hard, darned hard, to make grades and get a scholarship. Wasn't gonna get to college any other way, I knew that from when I was a kid."

"How come you say 'darned' instead of 'damned'?" Daryl asked. Of all the information she had just revealed, he'd latched onto that one word? He just wasn't paying attention, Allison decided.

"I never cuss. My granny used to smack me upside the head any time I used foul language, as she called it. So I just never picked up the habit…I guess in the back of my mind I can feel that big ol' wooden spoon of hers whacking me if I so much as think of a bad word."

"Your grandma lived with you?"

"Actually, I lived with her. And my grandpa. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was 11 – big pileup on the 441. I didn't have any other close relatives, so they took me in."

"Oh." He was silent for a few minutes. "Must've been tough," he finally said.

Allison shrugged and then busied herself with a hangnail that was suddenly bothering her. "It wasn't so bad…Granddad was a sweet old man, and I felt sorry for him sometimes. Granny could be mean. He used to take me fishing, which I didn't like so much, but he enjoyed it so I went along. He got sick later with cancer, and I'd take care of him as best I could which is probably what first got me interested in medicine."

"Your grandma didn't help care for him?"

"Her idea of caring was reading Bible verses to him and telling him that if he hadn't sinned he wouldn't be sick. Anyway, I'm sure my life story is boring you, let's do another New Topic. Umm… tell me about when you were a kid."

"New Topic," Daryl replied, staring straight ahead.

"Ohhkay," Allison drawled, realizing that she'd apparently hit a nerve. She scanned her mind for a neutral topic. "Have you ever heard of Fred Bear?"

"Of course, everyone knows Fred Bear."

"Everyone who bow hunts, you mean," Allison smiled, happy to have found something that piqued the redneck's interest. "I went to the Fred Bear Museum up in Michigan when I was a kid. We were visiting relatives up near Grayling and my uncle took us there. I remember Daddy was just fascinated. He was always going to teach me to bow hunt…." Her voice trailed off. "I did get as far as some longbow target shooting."

"Longbow's a pain in the ass – er, butt, when it comes to huntin'. Need fuckin' – um, freakin' arm guards and shi—stuff. Crossbow's closer to a gun, especially for short-range shootin'. You just pull the trigger."

Allison tried to conceal her smile at Daryl's sudden obvious attempt not to swear in front of her. She was almost tempted to describe it as "cute" before she remembered that this was the man who had carried a severed hand with him. OK, maybe he wasn't cute, but deep down inside of that rugged, red-necked exterior there were traces of good ol' Southern gentility. A man who had picked up on one subtle conversation cue and then hastily attempted to temper his vocabulary so as not to offend her, even during the Zombie Apocalypse, The End of the World, couldn't be all bad. ‡ ‡ ‡ Allison awoke with a start when the motion of the truck changed suddenly. They were coming to a stop.

"Nice nap?" the voice beside her asked.

"Huh…? Oh, God, I must've fallen asleep," she sat up straight, embarrassed. She immediately patted down the front of her T-shirt. "Did I drool or anything?" she murmured.

"Nope. Snored pretty good, though," Daryl answered with a very slight smirk.

"I do not snore!" she protested.

"Well, maybe I should check see if I've been dragging the muffler for the past half hour then." He threw the gearshift into "park" as the caravan pulled to the curb. Everyone slowly emerged from their vehicles, weapons in hand and gathered as a group on the sidewalk. Rick gave a hand signal that indicated they should follow behind him. As they moved toward the imposing concrete and glass building looming ahead of them, they stepped gingerly around the bodies of dozens of dead walkers.

"This doesn't look very promising," Andrea remarked sotto voce, nodding towards a burned-out military tank.

"Place looks pretty deserted," T-Dog agreed.

The doors were locked, unsurprisingly. Rick called out "Hello?"

"There's nobody here," T-Dog stated, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Another dead end," Shane agreed.

"Then why are the shutters down?" Rick asked.

"Walkers!" Daryl called out and aimed his bow in the distance, prepared to shoot if any of the geeks got too close.

"It's going to be dark soon, we should get out of here," Lori fretted.

"No! The camera moved!" Rick said suddenly, pointing to a CCTV camera mounted over the front door.

"You imagined it," Shane replied. "Come on, everybody back to the cars!"

"No, I saw it move!" Rick insisted. "Hello! You – in there! I know you can hear me! We're desperate. We have women, children…no food…nowhere else to go. Please help us!" His voice rose to strangled scream. "If you don't let us in, you're killing us! You're killing us!"

"Rick, come one, buddy, let's – " Shane stopped mid-sentence when the shuttered front door slid open. With sighs of relief all around the group quickly shuffled into the lobby of the CDC. A sandy-haired man in a T-shirt and sweat pants was standing above them on a balcony, gun in hand.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"A chance," Rick replied.

"That's asking an awful lot these days," the man stated, slowly lowering his weapon. "Any of you infected?"

"One of us was; we had to leave him behind." Allison thought of poor Jim who had been in such pain that he'd eventually begged to be left in a field by the side of the road while they were en route to the CDC.

Rick agreed on behalf of the group that they all would submit to blood tests as a condition of entry, and everyone quickly retrieved their belongings from the various vehicles and returned inside to this strange, Inner Sanctum-type place. Dr. Edwin Jenner introduced himself and then made some mention of "once these doors close, there's no going out" that Allison vaguely heard.

The entire crew crammed into an elevator and Dr. Jenner took them underground, to a long corridor that led to a large fluorescent-lit room filled with computer terminals. As everyone looked around, taking in their surroundings, Rick asked "So where's everyone else? All the other doctors?"

"I'm it," Jenner replied, going on to explain that the "woman" named Vi that he'd conversed with in their presence earlier was actually a voice-activated computer system. "Everyone else either left when the outbreak started or….opted out." He quickly changed the subject as he led the group down another hallway. "The couches in these rooms are comfortable, but there are cots in the storage area, if you'd prefer…. The kids might enjoy the games and puzzles in the rec room, but I ask that you not turn on any of the video games so that we can preserve electricity."

Jenner continued to lead the group and gesture left and right. "You can shower in here, but I do ask that you do so quickly to save as much hot water as possible."

"Hot water?" Glenn asked incredulously.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog replied with a grin that almost split his face in half.

Several hours later the freshly scrubbed members of the group straggled one by one into the main dining area and gathered around a long table where seemingly unlimited wine and liquor was being served. Endless toasts were offered accompanied by much laughter.

"Keep drinking, little man. I wanna see how red your face can get," Daryl laughed, pouring Glenn another shot from a bottle of Southern Comfort. Allison joined in the laughter, even though she didn't understand the joke. Everything was funny at the moment.

"So, Doc, what happened to the others here?" Shane abruptly asked Jenner.

Jenner had been keeping up drink-wise with the rest of the group all evening. When Allison later reflected on that night, she supposed that that was why the good doctor was suddenly so forthright, so blatantly honest – he was pretty pie-eyed. Or maybe it was because she was still somewhat of a freshman in the profession and it had been drilled into her daily to always think before speaking, to couch your words when discussing a "situation" with anyone other than a colleague. Some of the attending physicians she'd worked with took that philosophy to an extreme, in her opinion; rather than telling a family that their loved one was terminal, they'd say instead that the patient "may not reach his wellness potential." So she was surprised when Jenner admitted that the CDC was as clueless as the rest of them as to what was happening and how it could be stopped, and that these trained specialists, supposedly the best of the best, had committed suicide rather than address the plague that confronted them.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill," Glenn remarked and then downed another shot. The tentative silent glances exchanged among the other people at the table indicated that Glenn had spoken for the majority of the group.

As the evening wore on, many of the group left the dining area and eventually only T-Dog, Daryl, Glenn and Allison were left. Glenn and T were sharing yet another bottle of wine, passing the bottle back and forth, while Allison allowed Daryl to repeatedly pour generous shots of Southern Comfort into her glass.

"I have to ask you," T-Dog said to Allison, "are you part camel or what?"

"Huh?" Allison asked, her head already foggy.

"I mean you keep refilling that glass", he replied, nodding toward the other wine glass Allison had in front of her, "with water every five minutes. I never seen anybody that thirsty!"

Allison awkwardly sat up straighter in her chair and picked up her water glass. "Every five minutes is an exaggeration, but for your information I'm keeping hydrated. I'm trying to prevent a hangover tomorrow."

"Seriously? For real? That works?" Glenn asked.

"It sure doesn't hurt. Most of the hangover symptoms you feel are a result of dehydration," Allison replied, her voice suddenly taking on an Authoritative Doctor Tone. Although she sounded articulate in her own head, who knows if the others noticed that she was speaking somewhat slowly, careful to pronounce each word because she was getting truly sloshed. "Ethanol causes dieresis, which is excess urine production to you and me…." She suddenly caught herself and brought a hand to cover her mouth in embarrassment. "I can't believe I said 'urine' in front of y'all…." And she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"This girl is gone," T-Dog laughed, taking another healthy swig of wine.

"What she needs is some more…ethyl-nol," Daryl stated, pouring Allison yet another shot.

"OK," Allison choked, slowly composing herself, "the thing is…where was I? Oh yeah, if you keep drinking lots of water while you're on a bender it reduces your hangover symptoms later." She drained her liquor glass then took a few healthy sips out of her water glass.

"You couldn't have told us that without all those technical terms?" T-Dog laughed.

"Well, I just…um….what?" Allison blinked several times, trying to clear her mind. It had been years since she'd drunk to excess. And once upon a time, back at Duke, she would have never felt comfortable being the only female engaging in a drunken night out with three men. But somehow she felt safe with these men; she had the sense that they were drinking for the same reason as she – to forget, to relax for the first time in a long time. They weren't out to get her unconscious and take advantage of her.

"I do think we have officially got Miss Prom Queen shit-faced!" Daryl stood up and raised his bottle in triumph. "Boo-yah!" He took a long draw off of the bottle and then looked at Allison and said "Oh, I forgot that Miss Prom Queen doesn't swear. We got her poop-faced, then!"

"What exactly is this 'Prom Queen' business?" Allison asked indignantly. "As Clair Huxtable used to say, let the record show that I not only did not attend my high school prom, I never even went to any school dance."

"Why not?" Glenn asked in all innocence.

Allison shrugged. "Never got invited."

"You're kidding, right?" Glenn persisted. "I mean, you're…well, um, the way you look…."

"Exactly, the way I look," Allison was suddenly taking the not-uncommon sudden drunken swing from laughing to almost crying. "My weird big eyes and pale skin got me called all sorts of names growing up. I always looked like one of those featherless baby birds that fall out of the nest during a storm. And then there was middle school….when girls like Debbie Jo Karnes got all the attention…." She downed her glass and held it out to Daryl for a Southern Comfort refill.

"Debbie Jo Karnes," she continued, "Was the only girl in the sixth grade to wear a C-cup." Allison looked downward at her own chest, which was still nowhere near the need for underwire support. She sighed. "Boys can be so cruel…." She downed the shot Daryl had just poured her and reached out for yet another. "They literally would remark on your breasts – or lack thereof – right there in the hallways at school. I'm talking in front of a hundred other people. I still remember that day when Richard Shackleford announced in front of a bunch of his greaser friends that I was so skinny, if I stuck my tongue out I'd look like a zipper."

She got up and walked to the sink to refill her water glass.

"Um, I think that men look at women's…er, breasts," Glenn blushed even redder than the liquor had colored his face, "because they think of them as nurturing. It's a maternal thing."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the case," Allison snorted as she sat back down at the table. "That's why they call them 'hooters' and 'headlights' and what have you." She sipped from her water glass.

"It didn't help that I was a geek – not a geek like a walker, a geek like a Poindexter, a bookworm," she continued. "Even in college guys would always put me down just because I got good grades. I was a kiss-up, a woman who wanted to be a man, you name it. Men just didn't want to date intelligent women, even in med school. So long story short, I've never had a boyfriend."

"I disagree," T-Dog spoke up. "I think most men appreciate a smart woman, a lady with a brain."

"Is that why they have all those Wet Hat contests in bars and taverns?" Allison asked snidely. Daryl actually laughed out loud at that one. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was rapidly revising his opinion of this so-called pampered uppity college girl. She could not only hunt and handle a machete, but she was almost as quick with an acid-tongued comeback as he.

The other men also laughed despite themselves at her remark and it suddenly occurred to her that she'd admitted something very personal, that bit of information about never having had a boyfriend. Yes, she was a virgin at the advanced age of 27, but did she really need to tell the world (or at least these three men who comprised a major part of her current world) of her sexual status? Maybe they wouldn't put two and two together…

"So, T-Dog," Allison announced, to change the subject, "What did you do before all this happened? I'm guessing, looking at your biceps, professional body builder."

T-Dog convulsed in laughter and momentarily lowered his head onto his crossed arms on the table. He finally came up for air and said "No, I worked in a fulfillment warehouse for Amazon in Marietta. I was a supervisor and shop superintendent."

"Lifting books made you all buff like that?" Daryl asked.

"Amazon sells a hell of a lot more shi – er, crap than books," T-Dog replied. "But actually I used to work out at the gym every day, seven days a week. My father and his father both had high blood pressure and diabetes, so I was trying to cut all that off at the pass."

"Did you know," Allison raised a pointed hand drunkenly, "both high blood pressure and diabetes are more prevalent among African-Americans than any other race in the US. There are many theories as to why this is, but nothing conclusive thus far…." She took a big swig out of her water glass. "Just like Jews getting Tay-Sachs Disease…no one knows quite why…." She put her head down on the table and studied her glass intently.

"I think someone has had enough," Daryl stated, picking up Allison's drink glass and putting it in the sink. "Probably time for bed…" he staggered slightly as he made his way back to the table to help her up.

"I'm fine," Allison waved away any assistance. She refilled her water glass and carried it away with her. "See y'all tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she slowly negotiated the corridor leading out of the dining area.

A zillion drunken thoughts assaulted her mind as she made her way down the hallway in search of her bedroom, but one thought took precedence…she was suddenly reminded of that last time, years ago, when she'd gotten stink-faced and had spent the night puking in a spinning bed. She decided that that was the key to not getting sick – don't go to bed when you were this drunk. "I'll go to that recreation room and read a book or something…something to keep myself awake for an hour or so…." she thought to herself.

She walked slowly and unsteadily to the rec room and plucked an old Reader's Digest off the shelf. She first sat on one of the sofas, but that was too comfy….to easy to drift off to sleep and get nauseous… She staggered over behind one of the couches and sat down hard on the floor, leaning against the upright, unforgiving back of the sofa. She was deeply involved in "Humor in Uniform" when she heard voices. She was too tired to get up and look but after a few minutes she recognized the speakers as Lori and Shane. Moments later she crouched down even further in her hiding place, because she realized that this was some sort of very private conversation that she should not be privy to. However, when she heard Lori's voice protesting and Shane talking over her she couldn't help but to stand up to see what in the world was going on. The scene she took in was surreal – Shane was forcing himself on Lori, all the while proclaiming his love, and Lori then raked her nails across his neck.

Allison couldn't help but call out "Lori, are you OK?"

Lori suddenly sat bolt upright and Shane took several steps backward and looked in the direction of Allison's voice.

"This ain't what it looks like," he immediately defended himself.

"Are you OK?" Allison asked again, walking toward Lori.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, it's OK," Lori said burying her eyes into the palm of her hand.

"You have to understand, this ain't what you think," Shane said again, gripping one of Allison's hands for emphasis as she approached. He looked into her eyes for several seconds and then left the room.

"Allison," Lori clutched her shirt around her throat, "You have to promise….not to tell anyone."

"But – "

"It's OK, I'm alright, I promise you. I can work this out with Shane later. I just need your word that you won't tell anyone what you saw here."

Allison tried to focus her sluggish mind. She knew that what she'd seen wasn't right…but what did you do when the victim – yes, Lori was a victim, wasn't she? What Shane did wasn't right, correct? – was holding your hands and begging you not to do or say anything. Did the Hippocratic Oath or HIPAA apply in this case? Did any of those previous rules matter right now? Her head was swimming as she looked into Lori's eyes.

"As long as you're sure you're OK…" Allison replied reluctantly, giving Lori a long look. "No, I won't say anything."

Allison hoisted the enormous backpack onto her shoulders and picked up the "call bag" that contained her stethoscope, antiseptic wipes, bandages, and other tools of her trade. Rick, T-Dog and Glenn carried her other bags out to a conference area of the building. Everyone hunkered down on the floor as Glenn mapped out a complex escape plan that overwhelmed her. "Whoa, you've lost me already," she protested, pointing at Glenn's diagram. "Am I the eraser or the paperclip?"

"I think the best way to get you out of here is to have you wait inside for us until we bring the van back," Rick suggested. "Keep a sharp eye out 'cause you're going to have to move fast once we pull up."

She watched out a window as Glenn and Daryl went one way and T-Dog and Rick another. When they were all out of sight she sighed and wondered for a moment if they really were coming back for her. Maybe it was better if they didn't; she felt safe inside the office building. She'd been practicing with the machete for hours every day (it helped pass the time), swinging and slicing at upholstered office chairs and file boxes until she'd mastered the feel of it and had developed some impressive upper body strength in the process. She didn't know how much time had passed when suddenly the men came rushing back inside.

"Glenn! You've changed!" she remarked to the young Latino man whose hands were tied up.

"They got Glenn," Daryl growled as he shoved the boy into a chair.

"They? They who?" Allison asked, confused.

"Group of vatos hanging out down the alley way," T-Dog explained.

"You're not gonna give 'em our guns, are you?" Daryl said to Rick. "Guns are better than gold these days; can't feed folks with gold."

"Didn't say I was," Rick drawled.

Rick and Daryl proceeded to interrogate their prisoner, firing angry questions at him which he defiantly refused to answer at first. Then Daryl reached into a backpack and removed something wrapped in a bandana.

"This is what we do to assholes who piss us off!" he shouted, throwing a severed hand into the vato's lap. "Well, that loosened his lips," Allison thought to herself as the kid started babbling and confessing to everything except for the Lindbergh kidnapping and the sinking of the Lusitania.

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

Many hours later, the ragtag group was on foot, walking back to this Shangri-la of a camp they had described to Allison earlier. Even though the others were each carrying some of her baggage, she was wearing her overstuffed knapsack and carrying a bag in one hand, a loaded rifle in the other, her sheathed machete on her hip, and she was growing weary. The heat was oppressive and her body was aching. "Tell me again why joining this crew was a good idea?" she asked herself silently. They were walking because apparently Daryl's brother had appropriated the group's van and was headed back to camp, which is why they were all double-timing it. Apparently Merle was a bit of a loose cannon and had a grudge to settle. Nevertheless, there were snippets of conversation exchanged among the members of the group as they trudged along, most likely to take their minds off the Bataan Death March they were engaged in.

"I have to ask you, dude, where'd you get that hand?" Allison inquired of Daryl.

"It's Merle's. He must've sawed it off after Officer Friendly handcuffed him to a pipe on the roof and left him."

Allison considered that for a moment, trying to form a mental picture of someone abandoned and confined by a pair of handcuffs with a hacksaw nearby.

"Why didn't he just cut off his thumb? Why his whole hand?" she asked.

Daryl looked at her as they trotted toward camp. Her wide eyes made her look like she was genuinely curious, and not being a wise-ass for a change. "My brother's a tough son of a bitch, never said he was smart." He grunted succinctly.

Suddenly the still night air was filled with the sound of gunshots.

"Come on!" Rick yelled, waving his arm for the others to follow him as he broke into a run.

Allison obediently started running and then was momentarily taken aback a few moments later when she approached a bizarre scene…there were tents and an RV and screaming people and the telltale muzzle flash of guns being fired in the dark. "Walkers!" someone yelled.

Allison dropped her baggage and started shooting at any creature that had the typical halting, staggering gait of a walker. Her eyes and hands went into the "muscle memory" mode her daddy had taught her so many years ago while stalking and hunting. She was still a crack shot and knocked off half a dozen walkers while progressing further into the camp. People were running every which way and the sounds of painful screams and directive shouts were assaulting her ears. Minutes later, an eternity later, the camp was suddenly still, save for the muted sounds of whimpering and crying.

Daryl and T-Dog immediately went to work, taking whatever implements handy – a baseball bat, an axe – and proceeded to smash the skulls of any walkers who were still quivering or growling on the ground. Allison went back to one of her bags and retrieved an axe she'd taken from a fire safety station in the office building. Wordlessly she followed the lead of the two men and started hacking away at walker heads. As daylight broke it appeared that the majority of the walkers had been properly dispatched and the new task at hand was to stack them and burn them. Allison again dashed back to one of her bags and donned a pair of latex gloves from the box of 1,000 she'd packed when all this started. She returned to the scene of the massacre and helped to drag bodies to the pile that would eventually become a mass cremation site.

"No," Glenn suddenly piped up as the body of a camper was being carried to the pile. "We only burn walkers. We bury the others."

Allison dropped her end of the body and stood up straight. She looked at Daryl, who'd been carrying the foot-end. "Is that a good idea?" she asked.

"I think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right?" Daryl said to no one in particular.

Allison didn't know these people, so she kept quiet when Lori, whom she'd deduced was Rick's wife, told the group "We need to mourn our dead and bury them. That´s what people do." Allison had been a fan of cremation long before the Zombie Apocalypse had started…she'd met many a funeral director and mortician during her years in medical school, and to a person they'd all admitted that when their time came, they wanted to be cremated. That the funeral business was just that – a business. Ridiculous prices charged for a fancy box and a hole in the ground. Allison had decided long ago that when her time came, she didn't want anyone to waste money on a funeral. It still irked her to remember Granny spending money she didn't have on a fancy casket for Granddad when he passed….

"A walker got Jim! Jim's been bit!" an African-American woman suddenly cried. A skinny bearded man shrunk back and held out a shovel in defense. "I'm OK, I'm OK, I'm OK…" he repeated.

"Show us!" Daryl demanded. T-Dog grabbed him from behind and Jim's shirt was lifted to reveal an obvious bite wound.

The surviving members of the group adjourned for an emergency conference. Noticing the curious looks directed at the new girl in camp Rick made a quick introduction. "This is Allison, she's a doctor we found when we were in Atlanta."

"How do you do," Allison said with a straight face. "I hope y'all don't mind that Rick invited me to join you. I believe he described it as a 'safe place'," she couldn't resist adding. She then took mental notes, trying to remember names with faces as folks curtly identified themselves. "Dale." "Shane." "Jacqui."

"What are we going to do about Amy?" Dale asked, nodding toward a blonde woman who was embracing a younger blonde girl, the victim of a walker bite.

"I say we put a pickaxe in her head and Jimbo's and be done with it," Daryl said with a look in his eyes that challenged anyone to defy him.

"I hate to say it… I never thought I would… but maybe Daryl's right," Dale told the group.

Allison's hackles were inexplicably raised. "Why would you 'hate' to agree with what's right? With what's beneficial to the group's survival? Why is an opinion suddenly subject to special analysis based on who expressed it, fer cryin' out loud?"

Dale was momentarily rendered speechless, but Lori wasn't. "We are talking about people," she spoke in measured phrases. "People we love. I don't know how or when you doctors lose your humanity, but if you'd stop and think for a minute about something other than how you can pad a bill…."

"I am talking about people," Allison replied. "About you and me and us and people that aren't even here yet. You're burying these infected bodies in the ground when we don't know what exactly caused this sickness, is it a virus or a mutant bacterium and what is its incubation time or how long can it lay dormant. Who knows what will leach into the soil, and eventually affect anything grown here in the next 20 years, including vegetables that people might ingest in the future. Maybe you've heard about Love Canal and the Rocketdyne spill near Simi Valley?"

"Jim's not a monster," Rick interjected, "or some rabid dog… He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"I think the line's pretty clear," Daryl stated. "Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."

"Jim's sick," Rick repeated. "Maybe we can get him help. I heard the CDC was working on a cure…"

"If the CDC is still operational," Allison answered, "What makes you think they're accepting new cases? They're probably overrun with survivors asking for help."

"She makes a good point," Shane said. "I there's if any shelter or protection to be found, it would be at the army base. Fort Benning."

"The military was on the front lines of this thing," Rick argued."The CDC is our best chance and Jim's only hope."

The argument continued on for a bit and Allison went off to collect her belongings that she'd dropped when all the shooting had begun. She glanced at the woman identified to her as Andrea, who was still holding her sister and looked to be in a state of shock. Allison wondered what it would feel like to love someone that much, to be that devastated when someone died. She was an only child and her parents had died when she was 11 years old. She barely remembered being sad when the state trooper had come to the house with the news; everything became such a jumble, packing things, moving to her grandparents' house, learning new house rules, a new daily routine…

She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and moved her bags near the RV, since that seemed to be the epicenter of the camp. She then walked over to where Daryl was using a pickaxe to finish the last of the dead walkers so she could help transport the bodies. As he raised his arms over the head of a large male, the woman with the buzz cut – Carol – took it from him. "I'll do it. He's my husband." She brought the weapon down on the man's skull with such ferocity that Allison took a few steps backward in surprise.

"If that's how she treats her husband, I hate to see what she does to people she doesn't like."

Daryl muttered quietly "I think her ol' man used to smack her around. Wasn't exactly a Love Connection."

"Oh," Allison digested this information and then asked "So do we put him on the 'burn' or 'bury' pile, then?"

‡ ‡ ‡ ‡

"Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40," Shane told the group as they climbed into various vehicles. The majority of the group had decided to go with Rick's suggestion and were headed to the CDC. The Morales family exchanged sad farewells and left to make their way to Alabama in search of their missing relatives.

Allison observed the line of vehicles in the caravan and finally walked over to the truck that Daryl had loaded his brother's Harley into. "Um…mind if I ride with you?" she asked somewhat timidly.

He tossed a bag behind the driver's seat and shrugged at her. "If you want to. Makes no nevermind to me."

"I don't mean to be rude and invite myself along, but I really don't want to ride in the Winnebago…it's already crowded, and that sick guy is in there…."

"Like I said, makes no difference. Just get in if yer goin' to, I ain't got all day."

Allison stowed her luggage, and climbed into the passenger's seat. The conga line of vehicles slowly pulled out of the campsite and onto the main road. She glanced at her driver and decided that she'd keep quiet for now and let him talk if he wanted to. She stared straight ahead in the meantime, wondering what they'd find at the CDC. If they found it, that is.

Allison Harper ducked down into a crouched position behind the half-wall that formed a small, makeshift corridor at entrance of the corporate kitchen. Or break room. Or whatever this area of the office building had been before the world had come crumbling down. She heard voices. Human voices. The only sounds she'd heard in the past two weeks were the muffled shuffling feet and the grunts and groans that indicated Freaks approaching. But Freaks couldn't speak. There were people here.

"That's skin." She heard a voice near the oven accompanied by the sound of something metallic clinking against the stove top. "He cauterized the stump." Another voice spoke. "Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails." As she slowly stood up as quietly as possible to peek over the waist-high partition she simultaneously glimpsed a man aiming something in her direction and heard a voice yell "Freeze, motherfucker!"

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Allison called out as she stood straight up and raised both hands over her head, her right hand clasping the handle of an 18-inch field machete. A jumble of voices responded.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the man who was pointing what she now saw was a crossbow at her. "It's a girl!" a young Asian man blurted, stating the obvious. "It's OK," a second man, dressed in some sort of uniform, assured her, holding up his hand in a reassuring gesture. The third man, a muscular African-American with a shaved head stared at her mutely, looking uncertain.

"Whoa, just chill, I'm stepping out from behind this wall to show you I'm unarmed," Allison said in a cautious monotone as she slowly walked around the barrier. "Oh, except for this," she glanced upward to the blade in her hand and waved it slightly.

"Have you seen my brother?" the crossbow guy demanded.

"Um, I'm sorry, but since I don't know you, then it stands to reason that I don't know whether or not I've seen your brother. But I probably haven't - you're the first real people I've seen since I've been here, if that's any help."

"How long has that been?" the man in the uniform asked.

"I got here about two weeks ago, I think. Haven't really been keeping strict track of time. Been holing up down the hall in the ladies' room. I'm Allison. Allison Harper. I, uh, was just coming in to use the stove….to heat up something to eat….when I heard you guys talking…" She was babbling in a haste to explain herself as quickly as possible.

"Rick Grimes," the apparent cop replied. "This here's Glenn, that's T-Dog, and this is Daryl. We're looking for Daryl's brother, Merle." As he spoke the other three other men gradually relaxed their stances. The one named Daryl regarded her for a moment then looked back down to the ground and started walking away. "We're wasting time," he muttered as he followed a blood trail on the floor.

"Where did y'all come from?" Allison asked as she finally lowered her arms.

"I was 'bout to ask you the same question," Rick Grimes replied.

"Well, since I'm outnumbered, I guess I get to answer first," Allison said after a pause. She could understand their wariness; she was scoping them out as well. "I was on my way to visit home…rode down with a friend from school – we went to Duke, we work together now at the hospital – when all this started. We'd heard stuff on the car radio while we were still in North Carolina about this, this…sickness that was spreading. The roads got worse with abandoned cars and these freaks wandering around…took forever to get to the state line. Our cell phones had stopped working and when we finally found a working pay phone….oh, you don't want to hear all that. Long story short…"

"That ship done sailed," the man identified as T-Dog sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I tend to go on when I'm nervous. Anyway, I found out that the person I was going home to see was already sick with the fever. My friend couldn't get an answer at her parents' house, and we ended up separating once we got to Atlanta. She took off in her car, and I went looking for the safe haven that we'd heard was set up in the city. But all I found was wandering freaks and a lot of nothing until I got here." She gestured vaguely around her. "Place still has running water, that stove still has a pilot light," she nodded toward the burning flame, "and I've found a lot of usable stuff while scavenging from the offices."

Daryl, the man with the crossbow, returned to the group. "Blood trail ends over there by a smashed window. Looks like Merle has left the building."

"Maybe he's with Elvis, huh?" Allison remarked as she looked down at the floor and noticed the blood for the first time.

"This ain't no time for jokes, blondie," Daryl snarled.

"I meant no offense," Allison apologized, looking directly into the rugged man's piercing blue eyes. "Sometimes humor is the only way I can keep from crying or feeling hopeless. It's an old habit, maybe a bad one I guess." She shrugged.

Daryl grunted in response. Allison looked back down at the ground and followed the blood trail to the stove, careful not to step in the evidence. "This is an arterial bleed," she observed, stopping at the oven. She picked up the flat iron and grimaced. "Great, I used to use this to cook my food!" She set it down. "Guess I won't be doing that anymore." The rest of the group stood in place while her gaze returned to the ground and she followed the blood trail to the window. She paused then turned and looked at them. "Looks like he managed to staunch the arterial flow, but he's still lost a lot of blood. Depending upon his size and overall health, he could make it a ways before he either passes out or at least has to stop for some serious rest and rehydration."

"Are you a nurse or something?" Glenn asked.

"No, I'm not a nurse," Allison replied evenly with a slight emphasis on the last word.

"Oh, well, um, you mentioned working in a hospital…" the Asian boy stumbled over his words, sensing that he had somehow offended her.

"And who else works in hospitals?" she prompted him in a sarcastic tone.

"You're a doctor?" Rick asked.

"More or less. I was halfway through my first year of residency when this all started. I've graduated from medical school, but I haven't taken my Step Three Boards yet."

"What the hell does that mean?" T-Dog asked.

"It means that technically I am not yet licensed to practice medicine without the supervision of an attending physician."

"So it's just a matter of paperwork? I mean, you know how to treat sick people and all?" Rick pressed her.

"Yes I can treat sick people. I've been pulling 18-hour shifts in the Trauma Unit at Durham Regional for the past three months. Why?"

Rick exchanged a look with Glenn and T-Dog. "We've got a camp set up on the outskirts of town, over by the quarry. There's food and water and other people. We'd be pleased to have you join us, if you're interested."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm doing OK here. Like I said, I've got supplies and an indoor toilet and a safe place to sleep."

"Can we just get the fuck out of here and find my brother before we lose daylight?" Daryl growled, impatiently pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

"Like the doctor here says, he won't get too far bleedin' like that," Rick reminded him. "We can't run off half-cocked. Let's calm down and take a few minutes to get a plan together."

"We can't go wandering the streets of Atlanta without weapons," T-Dog added. "We need to get those guns first."

"What guns?" Allison asked.

"I left a duffel bag filled with weapons out on the street when I got swarmed by walkers yesterday. We need to retrieve it before we can search for Daryl's brother," Rick explained.

Allison looked from one man to the other as if she was considering them. After a few moments she spoke. "I've got some guns in my room. I guess I can let you have one if it'll help. I try not to use them in here, the noise only attracts the….walkers? Is that what you called them?"

"If you can really spare one, that would be awesome," Glenn replied with a huge sigh of relief.

"This way," Allison turned and led them out of the break room down a narrow corridor. Near the end of the hall was a heavy wooden door marked "WOMEN". "Heads up, men coming inside!" she called jokingly as she pushed the door open.

"Man, no wonder you women take so long when you go to the john," T-Dog said as he sat down on a long sofa in the lounge area. "You could live in here!"

Allison unzipped one of several bags sitting on a low coffee table. "I picked these up at a Walmart in Dalton that had apparently just recently been abandoned." She set four handguns on the table as she spoke. "It was crazy – people were busy taking big screen TVs and laptop computers and high-end junk like that. The sporting goods section was hardly touched. I grabbed as much as I could carry." She dug further in the bag and brought out several boxes of different types of ammunition.

"I don't really know that much about pistols," she admitted, "So you can take one or two of those if you like. And any of this ammo that fits them."

"What about this Remington Versa Max?" Daryl asked, reaching past her and pulling a large rifle out of the bag.

"I'll keep that and the Speedmaster, if y'all don't mind," Allison said, taking the gun from his hands. "And leave me the .22 shells."

"What's a little whisper of a gal like you know about rifles?" Daryl snickered.

"Enough to knock that condescending smirk off your smug little face at 200 yards," she retorted. "As a matter of fact, my daddy had me out hunting almost as soon as I could walk. I bagged my first gobbler before I learned to ride a bike."

"If you truly don't mind parting with these, we could really use a couple of these Browning nine millimeters," Rick said, picking up one of the handguns.

"Be my guest. See if there's a box of ammo you can use….I didn't pay much attention to what all I snatched up."

"We're good," T-Dog said, opening a box and filling the magazine of one of the Brownings.

"Listen, miss," Rick said in a serious tone that caught Allison's attention. "I have no right to ask you to leave this…this home you've made for yourself. But to be honest, it would really be a benefit to our group to have a doctor with us. Especially one with hunting skills. I wish you'd consider joining us. I mean, think about it, you'll eventually run out of food here, and the streets outside are crawling with walkers. There's safety in numbers and our group could offer you food and protection. I'm thinkin' it could maybe mutually beneficial." His eyes were dynamic punctuation.

"Oh, geez, I dunno…" Allison was torn. Truth be told, she was enjoying talking to someone besides the rest room walls. And the Cup-a-Soups and cans of Beef-O-Roni she'd scrounged up and stockpiled wouldn't last forever. How much should she trust this male quartet? Granted, they'd been respectful for the most part, talking to her solely about the matters at hand and not making any lascivious remarks. She was 27 years old but looked much younger thanks to anime-like huge blue eyes and a slender frame stretched over five feet nine inches of height. Growing up she'd been accustomed to being compared to both Tweety Bird and Betty Boop, and never thought of herself as "pretty", despite her almost porcelain complexion and long blonde hair (which got too wavy when it was wet or humid outside) and Cupid's bow lips. The average bystander probably wouldn't describe her as traditionally beautiful, but rather as "striking." In any case, since the world had started going to heck in a handbasket so many males she'd encountered en route to this safehouse had leered at her and offered assistance in exchange for…."favors." But these men in front of her had been as respectful to her as the people she'd grown up with in Toccoa, Georgia, where people still addressed one another as "Mr." and "Miss" and brought covered dish dinners to families in distress. She felt herself wavering.

"But how could I move all my stuff?" she asked somewhat incongruously – personal "stuff" surely had taken on a new, streamlined priority in recent weeks – making a sweeping gesture at the vast array of belongings she'd squirreled away.

"How'd you get all this shit here in the first place?" T-Dog asked, observing the many zippered nylon bags and one huge knapsack strewn on and around the coffee table.

"I liberated a shopping cart while I was at Walmart," Allison replied, walking a few steps beyond the lounge area down to the darkened area that housed the actual toilet stalls and returning with a wheeled buggy. "I've got clothes and toiletries and canned food and my medical supplies and equipment and… all sorts of things in all these bags. Nothing is really organized, I'd need to take everything with me and sort it out later…" She paused and looked at the group with a resigned shake of her head. "Y'all go on ahead, I'd be too much trouble with all my stuff." She sat down on an overstuffed chair with an air of dismissal.

"If we could manage to carry all your belongings with us – divide the bags between us – would you be willing to come with us?" Rick asked, starting to pick up bags before she could answer.

Allison was silent for several moments before finally uttering "Um…well…OK…I guess so. Safety in numbers like you said, right?" She looked at him questioningly, as if seeking reassurance that she was making the right decision.

Author's Notes: If you haven't read the first part, go ahead and check it out here :)

Night had fallen by the time they hit the road. Dominic and Lee had to help their new friends push the car blocking Shawn’s truck out of the way as quickly as possible when more zombies showed up to the scene. Now, Chet and Dominic sat quietly in the back of the pickup truck as they sped down a long stretch of country road, Dominic watching the trees passing by like statues, acres of farmland filling in the gaps between the stretches of Georgian forest.

"So how'd ya meet them two?" Chet asked, finally breaking the silence, his southern twang bringing a smile to Dominic’s face.

"Well, I saved Lee's life by helping him climb over the fence and into Clementine's backyard. He was being chased by a shit-ton of those things," Dominic started after a moment, replaying the events of the day in his head. "We met Clementine shortly after we tried finding help inside her house. Her babysitter was dead, turned into one of them. Lee had to kill it to save everyone."

"Must'a been exciting. I'd rather stay the hell away from 'em if I can," Chet chuckled before offering Dominic a beer from a pack he had in the flatbed. Dominic accepted it without question. At least, in this new world, being nineteen didn't mean shit anymore, but, after his first gulp from the can, he half-wanted to give Chet the drink back. It was warm, and tasted like shit.

"God, I forgot how terrible beer tastes. No offense," Dominic groaned between making disgusted faces, which made Chet roar with laughter.

"It tastes like shit, but sure can make a bad day better!" The man breathed between fits of laughter, taking a moment to calm himself down before gulping another swig of the horrid drink. Out of the corner of their eyes, they saw a particular farmhouse surrounded by a fence appear in the distance. The southern man took another quick swig before stretching his legs. "Looks like we've made it to Shawn's place.”

Dominic held onto the side of the pickup as the road grew a bit bumpy, the truck coming to a halt within the fence. He took a moment to pull himself to his feet before hopping out of the truck. He watched as Lee opened the passenger-side door and stepped out, helping Clementine out of the truck. After everyone gathered at the front of the truck, the newcomers examined their surroundings carefully. Towards the edge of the property, a red barn stood in the evening light. In the center was the two-story farmhouse, hardly affected by the dying world around it. Grass stretched for acres around, with a cow pen on the east side, followed by a tractor beside the fence towards the back of the property.

"Hey, Shawn… I'm a' run on home. My mama's gonna be in a snit," Dominic overheard Chet say, but he didn't listen in on the conversation further. He remembered this farm well from both the game and the TV show, and it almost brought back flashbacks from the show through his head. Rick having to kill Shane. Carl being shot. All of it would happen here. He turned back to the group as Lee’s voice echoed beside him.

"Let's get inside, I really need to get this leg looked at." He grunted as he tried inspecting it on his own, but failed horribly as pain shot up his nerves.

"On that, we can agree," Dominic replied, concerned for his newfound friend. They both turned to look at the farmhouse as an older man stepped out, looking towards Shawn with relief.

"Thank God, you're okay."

"I was worried it'd be bad here, too," Shawn admitted as he approached the home, hugging his father.

"Been quiet as usual the past couple days. Ol' Breckon down the way thinks his mare's gone lame but that ain't nothing new."

"I wouldn't have made it back without Chet," Shawn added softly, happy that he and his friend were able to get out of Atlanta alive.

"Well, I'm glad you took him with you then," his father said, before turning his attention to the three strangers now on his farm, eying them. "And you've brought a couple guests."

"Your boy's a lifesaver," Lee interjected.

"Glad he could be of help to somebody," the older man muttered. "So… it's just you two, and your daughter then?" The older man glanced between the two men and the young girl, raising his nose.

Shawn piped in, correcting his father, "Oh, not his daughter, they're… well… just some guys who found her alone."

The older man's eyebrow raised slightly before getting down on one knee and questioning Clementine. "Honey, do you know these men?"

Clementine hesitated. She didn't know much about these two, but she liked them, even if the younger one had a potty-mouth on him. "Yes," she squeaked. Dominic rolled his eyes at the question. Obviously if they had only just met her, she wouldn’t know them.

"Okay, then," Hershel stated, nodding his head before turning his attention back to the two men, his eyes focusing on Lee's leg. "Well, looks like you hurt your leg pretty bad there," he deadpanned.

Lee nodded slightly, wincing. "Yeah… it's not doing so good."

The older man nodded. "I can help you out. Shawn, run on in and check on your sister. You," He looked back at Lee, "take a seat up on the porch and I'll go see what I have. And you," his eyes rested upon Dominic, "come with me. I'll need some help grabbing the supplies."

"Okay," Dominic agreed, following the man inside to the medicine cabinet. As they weaved through the rooms of the farmhouse, Hershel stopped in place, turning around to look at the boy and narrowing his eyes as he slowly looked over Dominic from head to toe.

"How much do you know about that man?" He questioned, staring at Dominic like a scolding parent.

"We only met today. But he's a good man, if that's what you're asking." Dominic shifted his footing uncomfortably as he listened to the man. He didn’t quite like the way he treated Lee, even in the game. Seemed like there was more there than what met the eye, as if-

"It's not. I don't know who he is or what he's done, but something about him just rubs me the wrong way," He admitted, glancing at the door before grabbing a large box from a nearby closet, a large icon stamped right in the middle of it, indicating that it was a first aid kit.

"He's a good man,” Dominic retorted, trying to keep his voice civil. “Saved my life, and the girl's. We wouldn't be here without him, and he probably wouldn't be here without me."

The older man nodded before returning to where Lee was sitting on a bench outside, the man gazing down at his hurt leg. Hershel shook his head slightly at Clementine, who leaned against the railing and peered up at the night sky, before he finally tended to Lee.

"Let's have a look…" He sighed as he grabbed Lee's leg, examining the bloodied wound with a skeptical eye. "Yeah, this is swollen to hell."

"It hurts like hell," Lee groaned, holding back pained grunts from the older man's prodding of the wound.

"I bet it does," Hershel chuckled, looking up at the man. "What'd you say your name was?"

"It's Lee."

"Nice to meet you, Lee," he said, returning his eye to the wound. "I'm Hershel Greene."

He wrapped the bandages around his leg with swift motions, a concerned look on his face as he asked his next question. "How'd this happen?"

Lee and Dominic exchanged glances before the older man replied. "Car accident."

"That so?” Hershel prodded, keeping his eyes on his work with the bandages. “Where were you headed? Before the car accident."

"I was getting out of Atlanta," Lee deadpanned, not really wanting to talk about it.

"The news says stay," he muttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well that's a mistake," Dominic chimed in, making Hershel look back at him.

"And what's your name, son?"

"Dominic," the boy stated, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You don't sound like you're from around here," He added, gazing at the boy, "and you're in your pajamas. Where're you from?" He charged, each detail not really adding up in his mind . "Born in Texas. Been living in Ohio for the past couple of months now. Now I'm down here in Georgia, visiting family. I didn't really have time to change when this all started," Dominic lied, not wanting to go into detail about how he actually got there. He didn't even know how he actually got there in the first place.

"Uh huh," he muttered, raising his eyebrow before turning back to Lee.

"We hit a guy," Lee added, "One of those things you've been hearing about, on the road."

"Who were you with, Dominic and the girl?”

"No, I…" Lee's voice trailed off, trying to figure out what to say.

"He was with me," Dominic interjected. "We met up in Atlanta when it all went down, I pulled his ass out of the car accident when we crashed. We were with my uncle, who was driving us and... died in the, uh, accident…" Dominic lied, hoping that Hershel would buy it. Behind him, he heard Clementine mutter "swear,", instantly apologizing to her before turning back to Hershel.

"Sorry to hear that," he muttered, staring at the boy with narrowed eyes, suspicion seething in his voice. "but you left the city, in your PJ's?"

"Like I said, I didn't exactly have a lot of time to change when it all went down," Dominic pressed, sarcasm seeping into his tone.

"Is that so?" Hershel sighed after a moment, returning his gaze to Lee. "Anyway, house is full up with mine. We've got another displaced family of three sleeping in the barn. You three are welcome to rest there, when we're done here," He turned around to look at Clementine and asked in a gentler voice, "I didn't catch your name, darlin'."

"Clem- Clementine," she muttered shyly, looking between Lee and Dominic. She could tell that the two men were lying about being together when it all started, but she didn't want to contradict what they were saying and cause trouble.

"Can't imagine what you've been through, Clementine," he sighed.

"More than any other eight year old has been through before," Dominic muttered to himself, barely audible to everyone else.

"We're looking after her until we find her parents," Lee added, reassuring Hershel that they had good intentions.

Shawn walked out the farmhouse door, looking towards the fence surrounding the property before cutting into their conversation, "Hey dad, so I'm thinking, first thing tomorrow, we gotta reinforce the fence around the farm."

"That doesn't seem necessary," Hershel shook his head, refusing to believe that whatever is happening out there would make its way to his farm.

"I don't know what you saw on TV, or heard on the radio, but there's some…" He glanced back at Clementine and Dominic before adding, "serious shit hitting the fan."

Clementine said nothing to scold the man, which made Dominic scoff. "Oh, so he gets to swear?"

"I don't think anyone knows how big it is yet," Shawn added, after Dominic's brief interruption.

"Your son's right. You're going to want to fortify this place," Lee concurred.

"And fortify it well, I doubt a simple fence will keep them out for long," Dominic grumbled, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Stuff like that doesn't happen around here, Shawn," Hershel said, shrugging off their comments.

"Dad, I'm serious. Guys, come on, tell him what you saw out there!" Shawn looked desperately at the two men, praying they'd save him from the embarrassment.

"I got chased by a couple of dead people," Lee added, the images of those horrific monsters scarring him as he recalled the events.

"And I've nearly gotten eaten twice now," Dominic interjected, hating how stubborn Hershel could be. If he didn’t listen to them, it would be the downfall of his family, and his farm.

Finally, with a lofty sigh, Hershel gave in.

"Well, do what you think you should. We've got plenty of chores as it is," Hershel declared, not even bothering to look back at his son to acknowledge the decision.

"These guys and those folks in the barn can help out in the morning. We gotta do it, really," Shawn insisted, eagerness filling his eyes.

"I already said okay," Hershel groaned, annoyed by his son's persistence. "Well, Lee. I'm all done here. It should start to feel better tomorrow." He patted the leg, either for good luck or to encourage irritation, Lee couldn't tell.

"Thanks," He mumbled.

"If your leg gets hot or the swelling doesn't go down; you're probably dealing with an infection," Hershel continued after a moment.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Dominic muttered, knowing full well he will be.

"What do we do then? If I don't get better?" Lee asked, curious, as medicine was not exactly his forte.

"We'll probably just have to shoot you," Hershel cheered, which earned him a lot of scared and exasperated looks from the guests.

He sighed, before adding in a less cheerful tone, "We'll clean it, re-dress it, and you'll be fine."

"Okay, that'd be preferable," Lee settled.

"I don't know, man. I'd love to see him-" Dominic started, laughter breaking at his lips.

"Dominic…"

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood here," Dominic defended instantly, regretting his previous joke.

"Anyway," Hershel interrupted, "There's blankets and such in the barn. We'll be seeing you bright and early. Come tomorrow, which way you think you're headed?"

"Towards Macon, I guess," Lee shrugged. He had no idea where to go really, but anywhere that wasn't Atlanta was preferable. With his bad leg, he was hoping Hershel would let them stay on the farm for a few days, but that appeared to be out of the question. Hershel nodded before heading back into the house, giving Clementine a short nod as he disappeared inside.

"I suppose we should go sleep now. It's been a long day," Dominic finished, looking down at Clementine, "Let's go, Clem."

Dominic and Clementine strolled off, Lee following shortly behind them. He still didn't understand why the boy tried to lie for him. He doesn't even know who Lee was, or what he did. Either the kid was extremely naive, or knew more about him than he let on. He decided not to dwell on it too much as they reached the barn and stepped inside. Three blankets and pillows lay down on the barn floor, ready and waiting for the new arrivals.

Once they were in bed, Dominic heard Clementine mumble something under her breath, her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air. "It smells like…"

"Manure," The two older men said at the same time, looking at each other.

"Jinx, man," Dominic laughed.

"Manure? Like when a horse… plops?" Clementine asked.

"Just like that," Lee chuckled, closing his eyes. It had been a long day, and he was just glad to finally be getting some sleep.

"I miss my mom and dad," He heard her say from beside him, a wave of sadness coming across her like a storm over the sea.

"I bet, Clem," was all that he could say.

"Anyway guys, we should doze off," Dominic finally added, laying on his side, looking over at Clementine and Lee beside him.

"Yeah, big day tomorrow," Lee agreed before closing his eyes again.

Dominic's thoughts resided with his old life as he tried to fall asleep. He missed it already; his best friends, his apartment, his mother. He missed that life so much. He found himself wondering if anyone would even notice he was gone. Images of missing person posters stamped throughout his city flew through his head; his mother's grieving face; his friends crying, thinking that he was dead. He stifled a cry as he rolled over on his side, only to be bombarded by more thoughts. A tear forced its way out and onto his face, before dropping onto the soft blanket he slept on. He was never going to see any of them again.

His thoughts were interrupted as Lee let out a quiet, terrified "Gah!"

Dominic opened his eyes, finding Lee in the darkness. "Bad dream?" He asked quietly, trying not to wake Clementine up.

"Yeah…"

Dominic decided not to comment on it, instead he forced himself to close his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly. A smile rested on his face, because he knew that tomorrow was a new day, and he had gotten to meet Clementine and Lee. Something that he never would’ve dreamed would happen. Silently, he found himself wishing that this really wasn't a dream, that he wouldn't just wake up again in his bed in Ohio. This was his chance to set things right in this new world, and he wasn't going to waste it.

July 19

"Hey, get up."

Dominic groaned as he was rudely awakened from his slumber. He half wanted to grumble "buzz off" at the voice above him. His best friend knew better than to wake him up before noon.

"Come on, kid. You're burnin' daylight," The voice added sternly, sounding nothing like the best friend he thought the voice belonged to.

"Eugh," was all that he could say as he angrily opened his eyes, only to take in the sight of Clementine and Lee next to him, both yawning heavily. Oh, he was still here. He half-expected to wake up back in his bed in the real world, his roommate Josh forcing him up to play Xbox or something. Groaning, he finally sat up to look at the man who woke him. Dominic recognized him immediately as Kenny. If anything, the handlebar mustache gave it away.

To his left, he heard Clementine groan. "I'm itchy."

"Well you slept in a barn, little lady. Lucky you don't have spiders in your hair," The man joked, sending a smile in Clem's direction. She gasped and grasped at her hair, making sure there really wasn't any spiders there. Once she was satisfied, she looked back towards Lee, who had just gotten out of bed.

"But I bet your daddy scared 'em all away though, huh?" This was directed at Lee, who silently groaned at the fact that everyone kept calling him Clementine's dad.

"I'm, uh, not her dad. Name's Lee. And he's Dominic," Lee pointed toward the boy, who was still hating the fact that he had to wake up.

"Hey there," Dominic finally stated in greeting.

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Kenny."

Everyone turned to the barn door as a younger boy ran around the corner, yelling at the top of his lungs "Dad! We're going to build a fence! There's a tractor and everything!"

Dominic groaned again, it was bad enough he was rudely awakened, but now he had to deal with an excited little boy. Oh boy, it just keeps getting better and better.

"We better get goin', or we won't hear the end of it," Kenny added, already used to his son's antics.

"Is he always so... excited?" Dominic asked, rubbing his eyes as he finally got to his feet.

"Pretty much. That's my boy, Ken Junior. We call him Duck, though."

"Duck?" Lee asked, surprised by the peculiar name. Kenny laughed before adding, "Yeah, nothin' bothers him. Like water off a duck's back, y'know?"

"That's a valuable trait lately," Lee replied, Clementine grabbing his hand as they walk towards the farmhouse.

"No kidding. But frankly, I think it's because he's dumb as a bag of hammers."

They paused at that, Lee being surprised by how Kenny describes his son. Dominic knew the full extent of how idiotic Kenny's son can be, but he was a good kid, nevertheless, so he kept his mouth shut. And he surely wouldn't say anything bad about Duck to Kenny's face, as he would prefer not to be punched into the ground.

The boy yelled for his dad again, making Kenny add with a hint of sarcasm "But he makes up for it with enthusiasm."

Still yawning a little, Dominic stumbled off to find Shawn, not really wanting to stick around for the additional conversation with the Floridian. He was determined to save Shawn. He didn't care if it put himself at risk, or the entire timeline of this universe, he just wanted to save the boy from a needless death. At the very least, see if it was possible. He didn’t exactly know how the rules worked here, with him knowing everything that was going to happen.

Shawn had been working on the fence for the past hour, it seemed, silently hoping that all this work would pay off. Yet, as he heard someone approach from behind him, he sighed in frustration. "This damn fence is going to take forever."

"Need some help?" Dominic offered, already admiring Shawn's handiwork on the fence. He didn't really know much about building fences, or anything like it, but he knew a good barricade when he saw one.

Shawn smiled at the offer, "Yeah, if you can saw those two-bys to length, that would really help," Dominic nodded and walked over to where Shawn had already set up a plank of wood to be sawed. As he began to cut the plank in half, he heard Shawn mutter behind him. "My dad really doesn't know just how bad it is out there."

"You'll make him understand," Dominic added confidently as he began to cut the next board, "He needs to know that without walls and without firepower, this place would fall in an instant."

"I know, but… my Dad can be real stubborn sometimes. But with you and Lee backing me up, I think we have a real chance of making this place secure." His optimism was quite contagious, as it had even Dominic hoping that the future for the Greene family and its farm will be bright. This hope began to dwindle away, however, as his thoughts dwelled on the events that will plague the family in the future. Shawn's death, Hershel's death… Beth's death. This family will know pain at its worst degree. Even if he somehow managed to save Shawn today, he won't be able to control what happens to Hershel and Beth in the future, when they are with Rick's group. A voice to his left forced him out of his thoughts, as he turned to see Lee approaching, carrying some more planks over to the two younger men.

"How's it coming?" Lee asked Shawn, who smiled brightly.

"Oh, it's coming along great. A few more hours, and we should have this fence reinforced enough to handle anything coming our way."

"Sounds good," Lee replied, turning to Dominic, "Need any help with that?"

"Nah, I got it, but I'm sure Shawn would appreciate the help nailing the boards to the fence," Lee nodded and grabbed the spare hammer that Shawn handed to him.

After half an hour passed, they were nearly done with the southern side of the farm. During this time, Lee and Dominic had gotten to know Shawn a little better. Turns out Hershel was actually Shawn's step-father, contrary to what Lee and Dominic had thought. He wanted to protect his family with a passion, so he gave up all the things he wanted to help out around the farm, and be there for his little sister, Beth. Although, he was considering becoming a police officer some day, when Beth was older and Hershel didn't need his assistance as much around the farm.

"A police officer huh? You don't seem mean enough to be one," was Dominic's remark, only being half-serious.

"Not all cops are douchebags," Shawn replied as he admired their work, "Though I've got to admit, I've met a lot of douchebags in Atlanta, more so after the outbreak," He began telling a story about how he saw a man shoot a child in Atlanta.

"Was the boy one of the walkers?" was Lee's response. He could hardly believe that someone would just mercilessly murder a kid, but these were strange times, and it made people go insane.

"I don't even know. He was either attacking the guy, or asking for help. He didn't even hesitate. He just turned, put the barrel between this kid's eyes, and pulled the trigger," Shawn looked down at the ground, trying to get the image of the boy's death out of his head. After a while, he turned back to his new friends, "Thanks for the help guys, this place is going to be a fortress after we're done! I think my dad wanted to talk to you two, though. Should be in the barn."

Lee and Dominic exchanged a glance, they both knew what was coming. Saying goodbye to Shawn, they left for the barn, and found Hershel waiting for them, cleaning the barn floor of hay with a rake. The look he had on his face said it all.

"If y'all weren't leaving today, I wouldn’t stand for your lack of honesty last night."

"What do you mean?" Dominic asked casually, trying not to blow their cover. Though, at this point, he knew it had been blown for hours.

He turned to Dominic. "You're not a very good liar, son. You may be able to spin a tale, but the look on your face, and the way you carry yourself as you're speaking gives it all away. Not only that, but you seem pretty good for being in a car accident.” He took a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. “You lied for this man. I bet that you two had only just met when my son came across you." He turned back to Lee, finishing his lecture. "Look, I frankly don't care who you are, or what you did. But in this new world we live in, you're going to have to depend on the honesty of strangers if you're going to make it. And having people lie for you, is just despicable. But, you are helping Shawn with the fence, so I thank you for that."

Both Lee and Dominic were speechless. If there was any indication that they were not welcome to stay on the farm, it was that. As Lee tried to explain himself to the older man, there was a bloodcurdling scream from across the farm.

Shit. Shawn!

Dominic ran outside, breathing heavily as he reached where they were working mere minutes ago. And there he was, trapped by the wheel of the tractor, walkers trying to grab him from the other side of the fence. He was so focused on saving Shawn, that he had almost forgot about Duck being there, but as Lee and Kenny came up behind him, he barked out his orders.

"Kenny, Lee, get Duck! Lee, after that, help me get Shawn free!"

They each sprang into action, Lee and Kenny pulling Duck away from the walkers as Dominic pushed the tractor with all of his strength. He was able to move it by an inch, but not enough to get the wheel off of Shawn's leg. A second later, Lee was next to him, finally pushing the tractor off of the boy. They tried to drag him away from the fence, only for the fence to collapse under the weight of the walkers, one of them biting Shawn in the ankle. His screams hurt Dominic's ears as they continued to pull him away, while Hershel began to fire at the walkers with his rifle. Once all the walkers were taken care of, he looked over at them in concern.

"He's been bit!" Dominic yelled to him, cursing himself for being too slow. It all happened too fast, but at least Shawn was alive. They could still save him.

"What happens when you get bitten?" Lee asked, trying to figure out what to do. Though at this stage, he really had no idea. The only one that did, was Dominic.

"You turn into one of them," Dominic replied, standing up to face Hershel and Lee, "Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out, okay?"

And here it is. The penny's about to drop.

"We're… going to have to cut his leg off."

"WHAT?! ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"Give me a damn minute to explain, Hershel!" Dominic snapped back, trying to reign in the anger he felt boiling inside of him, "I've seen this before! If you get bit, you eventually burn up with a fever, and die. Then, you come back as one of them! Whatever it is in their bite has to travel through your body, and then to your brain. If we cut the leg off, it won't get the chance to leave the leg, and he gets to live!"

"Do you realize just how crazy that sounds? What if he dies from blood loss?" Lee added, hardly believing what this nineteen-year-old boy was suggesting.

Getting sick of them not believing him, Dominic roars, "IF WE DO NOT CUT OFF HIS LEG RIGHT NOW, HE WILL DIE!"

"Just do it, damn it! I don't want to die!" Shawn yelled at them, moaning in pain from the bite wound.

Hershel paced for a brief second, his grip tightening on his rifle, but he cursed and turned back toward them. "Fine. Help me get him inside the house, we'll put him on the dining room table," Lee and Dominic did as they were told, helping Shawn to his feet and hobbling him inside. Hershel's family was freaking out, a younger girl hugging Shawn and sobbing. If Dominic remembered right, the girl was actually Beth. Tears streamed down her face as she bawled into his shoulder.

"What's going on here?" Kenny's voice pierced through the air, barely heard over the frantic conversation going on in the room.

Lee was the one to explain, "Shawn's been bit. Dominic says we need to cut the leg off to save him."

"Holy shit. Would that even work?"

"Hopefully."

Hershel and Dominic cleared off the dining room table and laid Shawn on top of it, who was still grunting from the pain. Hershel quickly disappeared into a nearby room for a moment, before coming out a minute later with a rather sharp saw.

"Son, this is going to hurt. Do you want me to put you under with an anesthetic?" The boy shook his head, to the surprise of everyone in the room.

"Don't waste it on this. Just get it over with."

"Alright," Hershel replied, hovering the saw just below Shawn's knee. He hesitated, before finally cutting through the leg with one quick slice. If Shawn's screams earlier hurt Dominic's ears, this one deafened them. The boy's screams reverberated through the house, and into the farmland around them, before he passed out from the pain. A few seconds of slicing later, it was done. Hershel's family crying, Kenny, Lee, and Dominic half staring in awe, and half wanting to puke. Kenny was the first to speak as Hershel quickly went to the low flames in the fireplace in the other room, holding onto a metal poker as it slowly grew brighter in the flames. He was going to have to cauterize the cut.

"Holy shit, man."

It was that moment, that Dominic noticed Clementine standing in the doorway, Katjaa and Duck right behind her. He instantly ran over to her and hugged her, murmuring "Don't worry. He's going to be alright. We did what we had to do to save his life."

She was crying now, not really understanding what was going on. "You cut his leg off… why?"

"He got bitten by them, Clem. It was the only way to save him from turning into one of them," He instantly replied, standing up again, looking over at the worried Katjaa and Duck, "But, thanks to our fast response, he’ll survive."

Clementine seemed to accept this, but he knew what they had done had scared her. And for the next hour or so, he found Hershel and Lee questioning whether or not Dominic had been right. All Dominic questioned was whether or not they cut it off in time. He didn't want his one chance at saving Shawn to fail.

Later, after cauterizing and bandaging the cut, Shawn regained consciousness. He was lying in his bed with Hershel, Lee, and Dominic each looking blankly around the room. A throb of pain shooting up the remainder of his leg, causing all eyes to turn back towards him.

"Thank God you're okay," Hershel told Shawn, putting a hand on the boy's arm.

"It hurts like hell," Shawn groaned back, looking down at the stump where his leg had once been.

"We've patched you up pretty good, and the bleeding seems to have stopped. I reckon you're going to make a full recovery," the older man replied, a small tear dropping from his eye, "And you've got him to thank for it." He pointed over at Dominic, who smiled shyly.

"Lee, Dominic. Thank you for saving my son. If you wouldn't of been here, he would've died right then and there." Dominic felt a warm feeling of pride wash over him. He had done it. He saved the unsaveable.

"I'm just glad he's gonna okay," Dominic replied honestly, turning to his new friend, "Who knows, maybe you'll scare them away with your stump."

Shawn laughed, then grunted as another throb of pain shot up his leg, "Yeah. We'll show 'em."

Hershel stood up, walking over to where Dominic stood at the end of the bed, "Thank you for saving my boy. I thought you two were going to be nothing but trouble not two hours ago, but now, I'm almost sorry that you're leaving."

Dominic exchanged a glance with Lee before adding, "Never was planning on staying for too long anyway, but thank you for having us. I'm just glad he's alive."

"Where do you reckon you'll be going after this?" Hershel asked Lee, the younger man scratching his head slightly at the question.

"Macon, probably. Kenny said something about going there earlier."

"Sounds like a plan," Dominic added, turning back to Shawn . "Good luck out there. The world needs more people like you two," Hershel replied, shaking Lee's hand, before shaking Dominic's.

"You too."

After saying their goodbyes to the Greene family, Lee, Clementine, and Dominic got in the flatbed of Kenny's truck. Taking one last look at the farm, before hitting the road to Macon.

And to those who will become their new group.

This is the second part of my Japan based series. Here is the previous episode: https://www.reddit.com/r/TheWritingDead/comments/53zx2j/the_walking_dead_nihongo_101_a_new_idea/

Episode 102: -Confirmation

“Let me start, Mr….” the police officer raised his eyebrow as he flicked through a thick brown document. Jun sat staring at the table, the growls and snarls of the man thundering through his mind. Takeshi shook Jun’s hand, shocking him out of his trance. “It’s Masumoto. Jun Masumoto” The other policeman shot Takeshi a short look and cleared his throat loudly. “Mr. Masumoto, you and officer Murano were at the scene together. Maybe you can fill us in what Takeshi already gave us?” the officer asked harshly.

Jun straightened in his chair. “I was at the Kool Chill…I heard a noise coming from the alley, and I went to investigate. I saw someone bending over a dog…he….it was eating it” The policeman leaned forward. “Eating it? Like an animal?”

Jun saw the blood dripping from the chin onto the ground. “Yes..it was stuffing meat into its mouth. I tripped and it saw me and came after me.” Flashes of the man lurching towards him triggered a deep shiver throughout his body. “I ran inside and tried to get help. That thing tore out….” He choked. Takeshi meanwhile stared straight ahead, horrified “…tore out his throat. He was dead by the time I arrived on the scene. He t-” ()

“OFFICER MURANO!” the other policeman bellowed. He gritted his teeth and shot back to Jun “You are not accused of murder, but you might get asked to come in again. Please don’t leave town…or spread false rumors” he hissed slowly glaring at Takeshi. Jun grabbed his satchel and left. Takeshi ran up to him and put his hand on Jun’s shoulder. “Please, you must understand…I had to shoot him” Jun turned to see tears streaming from his red face. Jun looked at his feet, still covered in black, sticky blood. “Explain it to me then. Make me understand why shooting a man who is dying like a dog is ever justifiable.” Takeshi clumsily stuffed a note into his hand and hurried to the questioning room. Jun could see Takeshi being scolded and screamed at by the other officer. Takeshi nodded and sat down, burying his chubby face in his equally chubby hands.

Jun made it home, and sat on the floor. He ripped his shoes off and threw them in the trash. He sat with his back against the wall, his room totally dark and silent. He remembered the note Takeshi stuffed into his hand. He had since shoved it in his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and read it. It said only this: “MY HOUSE. ATTIC. MEET ME THERE AT MIDNIGHT ~T”

Jun looked at his clock, seeing the time had clicked over to 10:30 PM. Since Takeshi lived two buildings down, he had time to study. He opened his laptop, and searched “Dead Person becomes alive again”. At once a flurry of forums and message boards flew up. Most were crackpots thinking it would make for an interesting movie idea. Others were cynical, and bombarded anyone who fell for the nonsense with hateful comments. At last, he found a video on Reddit. Title: LA MAN DIES AND COMES BACK. He clicked the video.

The video showed the man being checked up on by American Paramedics, before pulling one of them towards him, snarling and flailing his arms. The paramedic was peeled off the man, and at once began to chase anyone moving. Police ran up and began to fire, bullets riddling his chest. One officer finally shot him in the head, dropping the man. The paramedic was bleeding from what appeared to be a bite wound, then the video cut. Jun frowned and sipped an energy drink. No way could this be related to what had happened at the Kool Chill. He had seen reports of psychos getting high off paint and other chemicals and going on rampages. It was probably just that. After all, if anyone is to be doing crazy things and put them on the Internet, the Americans are the ones.

He felt his pocket buzz. His phone was vibrating, due to Jun having a fear of embarrassing himself in class with a ringing phone. He checked it, and saw Jae Eun was calling. He immediately answered. “Jun? You there?”

Jun’s gut was twisted. She sounded so cute over the phone. He slapped himself. “ERRR yes, I am here, Jae Eun? What’s up?” A short giggle followed. “I was just wondering if you are still up for NeuroNeon tomorrow night. I don’t want to miss it. Or you for that matter.” Jun twitched “W-what do you mean?” he fumbled. A chortle floated through the phone’s speaker. “Silly…I know you try to not stare at me in class.” Jun gulped. “It’s that obvious, huh?”.

He wondered if he should let her know about the man. Better to not make her think he was a nut. “It’s so obvious.”Jae Eun replied. “Honestly, you are different than the majority of the guys who drool over me. You aren’t always thinking of me and your jewels in the same thought line” Jun forced a small laugh. “So…I am going to meet you there, yeah?” he asked. “Yes…and don’t worry, you will find me. Later killer!” Jun hung up. He looked at the clock. 11:50. Might as well see what Takeshi wanted to say. He stuffed his phone in his pocket, but also his punch spike. It was a knuckle duster he always kept in case he was mugged. A spike about 4 inches long would fold up to lock in place for added intimidation. This was strong enough to punch a hole in wood. His dad gave it to him before heading off to college, saying not to let the police see him with it. He locked the room and headed to the Murano house.

It was a small two story house, plainly decorated, with a large garden plot on both sides of the pathway leading up to the house. A sign read “Unless you are bringing Dessert, please wipe your feet” this was only on the side of the house because Mrs. Murano was known for her odd humor. He knocked. The door opened, and Mrs. Murano, a woman in her 40s, with a slightly thicker shape answered it. “JUN!” she gasped delightedly. “It’s been forever! What can I do for you, sweetie?”

Jun smiled. “I am here to see Takeshi, ma’am” He responded with a polite bow. “Oh he is upstairs. Hard day at work. Terrible job I must say. Takeshi always comes home and wolfs down his dinner…but not tonight.” Her smile faded. “He just went up there. Hasn’t said a word. Hope he isn’t fired.” Jun nodded once. “Can I talk to him?” “If you can pry something out of him, I would greatly appreciate it. The man is usually incapable of not yammering.” She patted him on the back and watched as Jun climbed the steps. The attic was dark, but clean, with only a single window illuminated by the moonlight. A small table with two chairs, and a few knick-knacks were in the room. Jun saw Takeshi staring out at the moon, not turning to face the other person. A bottle of imported Dan Jackson rum was on the table, with two shot glasses on the table. One was half full. “Takeshi? You wanted to talk?” Jun inquired. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” a depressed voice asked. Jun replied “The moon, you mean?”

“Yes. It’s…pure. Innocent. Not stained with blood.” Takeshi turned and faced Jun. his face was red from a mixture of crying and strong drink. Jun straightened in the chair. “Takeshi, why did you shoot the man? What do you mean turned?” Takeshi poured a shot for Jun. “Take it” he ordered softly. Jun took the glass and sipped it. The strong, potent burn was enough for him to grimace. “I shot him, Jun, because he would have killed us. Both of us” he gunned a shot down and wiped his mouth. “The store owner would have become what that man in the alley became…a walking corpse. Some call them Walkers. Others call them Infected.”

Takeshi poured another shot. “First case was in Tokyo. Some American GI came to a hotel with two party girls. Most likely prizes for him to take. Supposedly, he had taken a large dose of Heroin. Died in his sleep. One of the girls woke up to find him ripping…” he stopped and gunned another shot. “…ripping her stomach open. He had already torn out her throat. She barely made it out alive. She had been bitten, and had stabbed him in the back of the head with a pencil. We found her body outside, having bled to death. The health minister called the whole thing a drug escapade. But…during the autopsy, she came back. Same grey eyes, same black veins, and the same growls. It attacked the examiners, and bit one. I heard about this from my boss, who swore it was a prank.” He cocked his head and chuckled “Now I know it isn’t. This is what we are going to have to live with for the rest of our lives.” He gulped down a final shot and threw the glass on the floor, shattering it.

Jun flinched but remained seated. “So…these things are going to keep coming?” he asked, leaning in. Takeshi nodded. “The government is scoffing at the idea of walking corpses. But with so many dead…” Jun straightened himself quickly. “How many are dead? All I know of is the Kool Chill owner”. Takeshi chugged a shot straight out of the bottle. He wiped his mouth and sniffed, holding back tears “Fifty”. “Fifty? But…we would have heard-“

“NO! YOU DON’T GET IT JUN!” screamed Takeshi. “We are all going to get the fever, burn up and die. Then come back!” He tore his shirt and broke down “and there isn’t a goddamn thing we can do about this shit!” he sobbed. “Oh god, I never wanted to see my friends, MY FAMILY being torn apart.” Takeshi sobbed in the corner, the bottle draining its amber contents onto the small rug under the table. Jun picked up the bottle and sat next to the old policeman. “We survived two nuclear bombs. We will survive this, Takeshi, I promise.” He wrapped an arm around the man and hugged him. Takeshi scoffed through the tears “It’s not very manly to hug another man, you know Jun?”

Jun chuckled and handed Takeshi a tissue he always had in his pocket. “I guess spending 5 years in America does that to a man” Takeshi accepted the tissue and stood up. “I…I better begin packing. The countryside is more remote…safer” He nodded, comforting himself with the idea. “Jun…I know we are not allowed to have weapons. But if you need one, there is a key under the cactus plant pot. It goes to the trunk in the closet” Jun nodded and began to head down the stairs “and Jun-” Takeshi murmured. Jun turned to face the old man.

“-even when the world is dead, and you are at your end, never stop being the man I know now. You are a good kid, and I think of you as a son I wish I had as my own. Be the good man for others to follow. Survive this nightmare.” Jun nodded and went down the steps.

That night Jun had the one word that stuck in his mind the most echo around his thoughts: Walkers. He went to sleep, thinking about the final words Takeshi pleaded with him. It was a Saturday, so no school. He had only a small 3 page paper to finish, and then he would be done with finals. Jun slept in till noon, with the knocking on his door shaking him from his slumber. He groggily opened the door to find his friend Shinji, standing there with his phone out. “You seen this, Jun?” he asked, letting himself in.

Jun opened the fridge and poured a glass of apple juice “Seen what?” he grunted. Shinji almost shoved the phone in his face. The screen lit up, and showed a man running away from what appeared to be another shambling corpse. The man fell, and was set upon, a spurt of blood spraying the ground neck to his face. The corpse was thrown off, and the camera focused onto the man, his nose and upper lip torn off, all the while screaming as blood gushed from his wound. The camera then swerved to the corpse, who had been forced against a brick wall. Another man kicked its shin, causing it to fall, then pulled a gun out and shot it. The corpse became limp and the final words heard were in Korean. “It’s in Korea too” Shinji said, gloomily. Jun grabbed the phone. “When was this posted?” he asked. Shinji took it from Jun and scrolled down. Suddenly, the video vanished, a giant JSDF symbol appearing in its place, with the words “THIS VIDEO IS NOW THE PROPERTY OF THE JAPANESE SELF DEFENSE FORCE.”

Shinji pocketed the phone “DAMN!” He angrily took a bite out of an apple on the small table. Jun sipped his juice “That was mine you know”.

The rest of the day Jun cleaned, did chores & played a few video games. He couldn’t fully enjoy them though, due to what he had seen on the phone, & from what Takeshi had divulged. He dropped his wallet, and as he was picking it up, he found the VIP ticket for NeruoNeon. “OH DAMMIT!” he nearly yelled. He was supposed to meet her at 6 PM. It was 5:29 PM now. Jun slapped on his best clothes, spritzed some good cologne he had purchased on his neck, and bolted out the door. He made to the club at 5:57, and breathed a breath of relief. He parked his bike which was a double seated one he usually used for carrying books and looked around the entrance of the club. Several young Japanese, Korean & a few American people went into the club.

He looked around, and was suddenly blinded. “Guess who?” a cheery voice sang. The hands covering his eyes were removed, and he turned. Jae Eun stood before him, her hair styled into a fashion not dissimilar to that of a Korean pop singer, with her slender, toned body wrapped in a silky gold & red mini skirt & her top consisting of a black satin blouse, which has the sides cut out to reveal her hips. Jun could feel a nervous pit in his stomach as he looked her up and down. “You look….nice” he choked. Jae Eun smiled sweetly “When you are done getting a mental image, shall we go, tiger?” she asked with a wink. Jun nodded awkwardly and entered the club.

Entering the club they were bombarded with neon greens, reds & oranges. The floor lit up with a starburst pattern wherever they stepped, and the ceiling was mirrored. Music roared throughout the club, a heavy synth beat. Jae Eun led Jun through the dance-floor and up a staircase lined with neon. A large platform was overlooking the dance-floor, which was the VIP lounge. The DJ ended his track and put on a new one. Jun recognized it: Angerme’s One by One, One after Another. Jae Eun took his hand and drew him close. “Umm….thanks for inviting me Jae” Jun nervously uttered. Jae Eun smiled and brushed his face with her hand “Jun, you are an idiot. You seriously haven’t noticed that I have liked you?” she bluntly asked in a playful tone.

Jun slowly nodded “I…did. But I am not the kind of guy to jump into things head first” he lied. Jae Eun laughed. “You are such a nerd” He ran his hand up her back and smiled “Maybe…but I know how to dance too” Following his lead, the two lit the floor up, and they danced, with Jae Eun moving closer to Jun, and him closer to her. Their hearts were beating furiously, but not from the dancing. Jae Eun threw herself at Jun, and tilted her head up, her eyes closed. Jun gulped and thought “Screw it”. He leaned in and their lips locked. He could feel her melt as their lips touched. Jae Euns fingers dug into Jun’s back, and Jun ran his hand up the back of her neck and through her hair. They unlocked their lips, and Jae Eun smiled warmly “Now that’s more like it, handsome” Jun nodded “So maybe we can do that more often” he asked. Jae Eun giggled “You are a total loser…but I like that Jun. It’s endearing” she said, squeezing his hand. Jun leaned in, with Jae Eun leaning in also, their lips about to lock-

“AIIIIIEEEEE!” a harsh scream reverberated through the club. The music was cut instantly, as Jun and Jae Eun looked over the railing. A dancer tumbled in, her tight white dress covered in blood. Jun looked at Jae Eun and ran down the stairs. The other dancers ran close to help her, but then another scream filled the club. “WHAT IS THAT?”

Jun had just arrived on the main floor to hear the scream. He turned and saw her. A dancer covered in blood, her neck impaled with a large knife. Her eyes were dull grey and her mouth dripping blood and gristle. Jun immediately had a flashback to the Kool Chill. He breathed in deeply and looked at the dancers “LEAVE!” he bellowed. Jae Eun ran to his side and saw the Walker. She gasped and clutched Jun’s jacket. Jun turned to her. “Get this girl to safety!” he said urgently. Jae Eun clutched his jacket for a moment, and then gave him a peck on the cheek, before running and grabbed the girl, dragging her to safety. Jun pulled out his punch-spike, unfolded the spike and held his fist against the walker. The walker lunged at him, snarling and snapping. Jun grabbed with one hand her throat, and with the other her arm. He used a Judo move he had been taught by Takeshi to throw her to the floor, a splotch of light erupting from the floor tiles. Jae Eun had taken the girl outside, when a man in a black suit pushed past her and went into the club. Policemen poured into the building after him. Jun pinned the walkers arms under his knees, and using his other free hand held down her head, exposing the temple.

Police surrounded the two. “SIR, BACK AWAY FROM THE INFECTED!” one officer barked. Jun had a sudden flash of remembrance, of the screwdriver stabbing the walker from the store. He screamed and slammed with all of his strength the push-spike into the temple. A wet crunching noise was heard, followed by the squelching of blood oozing out of the wound. The girl stopped moving and gnashing her teeth, and lay still at last. Jun stood and saw the police lowering their guns. One officer walked towards Jun and asked “You okay, son?” Jun nodded. Meanwhile, in the balcony overlooking the main floor, the man in the suit pulled out a cell phone and dialed. It rang, and then the man simply said “We have confirmation of a person experienced in killing Infected.”

Depending on how well this is received, I will post 103 soon.

The waves from the Atlantic Ocean crash against the side of the small trawler boat. Struggling to stand on the slippy deck, Samuel holds onto the chipped white-painted railings. “Fifteen miles and we’re back to shore” Captain Tom shouted. Great, Samuel thought, I can’t wait to get home and see the dog. Samuel glanced over toward the other man on the boat, Pat his ever loyal employee and friend. Suddenly Samuel caught a glance of the trawler cage’s fixing coming loose, which was about to swing round towards Pat. “GET DOWN NOW!” Samuel screamed at the top of his lungs, Pat, hearing when Samuel barked instructions over the sounds of the seas, quickly, he bolted himself to the floor as the cage smashed into the Captain’s small control box, releasing fish and other sea crustaceans over Pat’s back and the already slippery and wet deck. Samuel then saw a wave which smashed into the hull of the boat, knocking him onto his backside; he quickly attempted to stand up, but slipped and smashed his head on the metal railing.

Waking up in his bunk down below deck, he was greeted by the apprentice, Clive, who looked like he had gone completely green being sea sick. Regaining his surroundings, Samuel tried to stand, but collapsed with the sound of loud retching drowning out the waves as he slipped away.

“Samuel….Sam….Samuel?” Tom said grasping his shoulder

“Wha..”, Samuel made out as he regained consciousness

“You hit your head on the bar there as that big wave came through, you’ve been out cold for about an hour.” Samuel then tried to get up out of the bunk, “easy Sam, you just rest for a bit” Tom said, Sam frowned and then inspected his head for any blood with his hand. “What about the catch?”

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty more fish in the sea”, Sam frowned again, he hated when Tom made that joke in all the years they worked together as business partners in the trawling business. They made a good standard of living together, able to support Tom’s wife, Marge and their 2 kids, Brad and Jon, and able to support Samuel’s life comfortably after his partner Claire died some years ago now. “Should be arriving back at port in 5” Tom said with a smile, handing him a sandwich of white bread and ham Tom said “eat up, you’ll need your strength” as he climbed the stairs to the deck.

Approaching the dock in the dead of night, Samuel thought to himself he couldn’t wait to get back into his own place and to clear all of his smell that latches onto him whenever he goes on a trawl of the freezing cold Atlantic. As the boat was being anchored to shore Samuel was about to step off but was almost barged out of the way by Clive who wanted to be on land as fast as he could, “Hey watch it you idiot!” Samuel explained.

“Urr…Sorry” Clive let out as he vomited his guts out onto the dock.

“Jeez kid, this really was your first time on a boat” Pat laughed as he slapped him on the back, “See you next trawl lads” and wondered towards his car. The dock steward wandered over towards the boat, as Samuel turned and looked back at the ocean which was refreshingly calm after the storm, the moonlight shining off the surface of the water. As Samuel was looking he heard a chilling scream and what sounded like a bite, he turned and saw the dock steward with a face full of blood with Clive screaming in agony on the floor clutching his stomach and shoulder. “WHAT THE FUUCK?!” as Tom picked up a harpoon, the steward came towards him with a vicious intent, Tom then whacked the steward with the blunt end of the harpoon as the steward stumbled backwards, Samuel threw a loop of rope around his body and pulled it, creating a knot around his waist as Samuel tied one end to the dock, both of them came running over to Clive. “Oh my God, there’s so much blood” Tom exclaimed. As the nauseous colour ran from Clive’s face he stopped struggling and succumbed to the blood loss.

“Jesus, what the fuck is that?” Samuel said

“A fucking sick fuck that’s what. Good job we tied him up, this will be easier to deal with for the police to lock this sick fuck away.”

“Are you fucking for real?” exclaimed Tom

“What do you mean?”

“Our apprentice, Clive…I don’t even remember his second name properly, just fucking died on our watch and you don’t feel anything about this?

“Well… I guess I wasn’t thinking about this properly…Sorry” Samuel grasped his forehead as a ringing in his head grew louder.

“Christ, what the fuck happened here?!” Pat exclaimed, running towards them.

“Call 911, this fucker just killed Clive!” Tom shouted

“Jesus…” Pat said, before throwing up after looking at the amount of blood on the dock stone decking.

“No fucking reception on my phone, come on, let’s go back to my place, the police station is just across the way from my apartment”, said Samuel

Author's Notes: Hello everyone! As a word of warning, this is going to be a pretty long-form story, so expect some pretty huge posts, heh. Before we get started, I want to say that this story will involve spoilers for pretty much every Walking Dead medium, including the games, and the show and comics. It'll also include a lot of sci-fi elements later on in the story. Without further ado, let's get into it, shall we?

July 18, 2015

"Nice hat."

Clementine looked over blankly at the boy she had only just met, silently mulling over the events that had transpired over the past couple of weeks in her mind, before finally replying in a half-sigh.

"Yeah. Thanks."

The scene faded to black as Clementine stared down at little AJ in her arms, leaving a rather depressed Dominic staring blankly at his computer screen. Every orifice of his heart felt completely drained from the rollercoaster of emotions he had just endured. This was his first time playing through the Walking Dead, and he found himself hooked the moment he started the game as Lee a mere twelve or thirteen hours prior. He didn’t expect to be playing for so long, but the sheer brilliance of the game kept him going through the night, and the horrific events scarred him for life. He couldn’t believe his eyes. First, he had to watch as Clementine put down Lee, possibly one of his favorite characters of all time, and now, Kenny. Having to kill the Floridian left him speechless, and on the verge of tears. Thinking back to that moment, he wasn't sure whether he had made the right decision for Clementine to forgive Jane and go back to Howe's. But, he knew that Kenny had gone off the deep end, and he couldn't let him kill Jane, even if she did hide the baby from them.

He took off his glasses before rubbing his eyes gingerly, the credits rolling by before returning to the main menu as he slipped them back on. His eyes were half-open, as if closing by their own accord, as he closed the game and switched off his computer. He stretched his muscles before heading for bed, yawning as his mind wandered. He’s had enough of zombies and feelings for one night. He slumped into in bed with a thump, staring up at the ceiling through his thin-rimmed, black glasses. The memories of Clementine’s adventures forced him to have a minor case of insomnia as the events played back in his head like a drawn-out movie, not to mention the splotches of sunlight filtering through the curtains just above him. After what feeling like hours had passed, he fell into a strange, deep sleep, dead to the world around him.

Dominic groaned as a peculiar, wretched smell brought him out of his slumber. He felt his back scorching in pain as his senses slowly returned to him, making him quickly jump up and open his eyes, only to be met with the blinding sun. Shielding his foggy vision from the glare, he took in his surroundings, only to see a blurry blue sky and a long stretch of road ahead of him. He blinked rapidly, shaking off his dizziness before looking behind him. The blurry shape of a police cruiser beneath him met his gaze.

What the hell?

Why was he sleeping on top of a police car? That sentence alone was enough to baffle him. His glasses sat next to him on the hood of the car, which he instantly picked up and put on. He scanned his surroundings carefully, a deserted street lay in front of him. Litter scattered the pavement, and abandoned cars stretched the road as far as Dominic could see through the piercing sun. On the other side of the road, he could see evidence of ransacking and personal belongings hastily packed up and left abandoned in the front yards. Windows were broken, doors left ajar, and blood left in messy puddles along the sidewalk. He glanced toward the road itself as a wrinkled, barely legible MISSING poster flew between the wheels, and beyond the back of the cruiser. Some sort of crisis had occurred, that was the only explanation that he could come up with. Hurricane? No. That wouldn’t explain the blood. Holy shit, that looks fresh…

"Where the hell am I?" He croaked as the blistering heat of the sun continued to beat down on him, only adding to the wretched smell of blood and whatever the hell else was mixing in with it. Jesus, it's got to be like a hundred degrees. He mused. It’s never been this hot since I’ve moved to Ohio. Feels more like… His thoughts trailed off as he noticed the license plate of the car parked in front of the cruiser. Georgia.

"What the fuck?" Dominic’s body shook as fear took over, pulling himself off of the cruiser, hissing with pain as the super-heated concrete beneath him burned his bare feet before he examined the other cars around the road, including the cruiser itself. Georgia, all of them. What? How? I can’t- He panicked, reaching into the pockets of his black pajama pants for his cellphone, only to come up empty handed. No no no no! This can’t be happening. Goddamn it! His breathing grew shallower with each passing second, every fibre of his being telling him that none of this made any sense. Finding yourself sleeping on the top of a police car, almost eight hundred miles away from home… His head was spinning, it was as if he was placed into some sort of fucked up version of The Hangover. This has to be a dream, right? How did I get here? None of this is adding up!

He got his answer when, well, less of an answer, and more of an inhuman moan, almost as if someone was gurgling some sort of thick liquid, had reached his ears from behind him. He knew the sound all too well.

Zombies.

With his heart racing, he turned to see where the moaning was coming from. And there it was, a zombie. A motherfucking zombie. It’s eyes were a freaky white; the skin almost alien grey, with rotten, crimson red bite marks lining its body under the sunlight. The smell was enough to make Dominic want to hurl, reeking with the smell of molded urine and decayed flesh. Raw meat like an aroma fit for the mentally insane. It was absolutely hideous, far worse than anything he could've imagined. The Walking Dead couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing.

"H-hey there, um… yeah, I'll, uh, I’ll be going now," He stammered out to the zombie, backing away as it began to growl at him. He yelped at the noise, tripping and falling onto the burning asphalt. His heart raced faster, hardly feeling the pain from the fall as adrenaline took over. He was not about to die to a fucking zombie.

"Please be a dream, please be a dream…" he pleaded as he struggled to get back onto his feet and run away from the decaying monster. As soon as he found his footing, he booked it, breathing heavily as the world became a blur around him. Tears began to burn his eyes, each house like waves of unnoticable scenery as yard after yard passed by on both sides. As he sprinted down the road, another two zombies stumbled in his direction, as if coming out of the woodwork of the abandoned residences. The sight of them stopped him in his tracks. Think… Think…! He turned around, a yard enclosed behind a large brown gate catching his attention. Tearing across the street, he pulled on the gate to no avail, whoever lived here had locked it. As the growls drew closer, he hopped onto the fence, struggling to climb over. He turned back just in time to see the zombies closing in, stepping off of the pavement and clawing for him. Giving one hard jerk, he swung his legs over the gate, falling hard onto the rough concrete within, and scraping his knee in the process. Luckily the gate seemed to be pretty solid, so at least he was safe from the zombies for the time being, as they continued to growl at him and push against the gate with all of their might, with nowhere near enough strength to force their way through.

He sighed with relief and turned around to go deeper into the backyard. The further he ventured down the concrete path though, the more he recognized where he was. To his right was a large, beige garage, and to his left, a two-story house sat, with a porch leading up to a glass sliding door. Then there was the fence in the back, and finally… the treehouse. The treehouse especially caught his attention. It can't be. This is Clementine's backyard. From the game. I've GOT to be dreaming. He fell to the ground, with a rather painful thud, as it all sunk in. Somehow, he had been transported into the world of The Walking Dead. And the worst part is, he had no idea how he got there, or if he could even get back.

He couldn't help but to slap himself on the spot.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" He shouted, a tear dripping off his cheek as a red handprint slowly materialized over the wetted skin. Gunshots in the distance brought him out of his stupor however, forcing him back to his feet. The thought of some asshole out there killing people had him glued to the spot. He definitely didn’t want to become the next victim on the list.

"HELP!" A voice called from beyond the fence across the yard from him, coming from the forest behind Clementine’s home, and making Dominic pause with his palm an inch from his face, ready for another wake up call. Oh my god… He ran toward the fence, climbing and peering over it to see a dark-skinned man with a blue shirt limping towards the fence, growls and snarls following his escape.

As Dominic dropped back to the ground, he hit himself again, but he was still here. And now, his face was starting to hurt like hell. Looking down at the ground, he quickly considered what could be in store.

Well, he never saw himself being able to survive a zombie apocalypse, if one ever occurred. He knew that he was too weak, and he loved to eat. No doubt having a slight belly would make living off canned beans and soups difficult for him. So, he found himself feeling like curling up into a ball and dying where he laid, knowing well enough that either way he would end up dead anyway.

"HELP!" The voice that obviously belonged to none other than Lee Everett cried again, forcing Dominic's eyes open. He couldn’t miss this opportunity, no matter how much he wanted to give up right then and there. This was his chance to set things straight. Without a second thought, he sprung to his feet and raced to the fence. With one last burst of energy, he leaped, grabbing a hold of the fence and pulling himself onto the ledge before peering over to see Lee limping towards him, his eyes locking with Dominic's. The young man reached out for Lee.

"Grab my hand!" He shouted to the older man. "I'll pull you over the fence!"

Lee did as he was told, and grabbed the younger man's hand, who, with a noticeable grunt, struggled to pull him onto the fence. In sync, they turned around and hopped off into the backyard. Lee nearly doubled over in pain as the wounds he received from the car crash shot up his leg.

He spent several seconds trying to catch his breath before turning to the younger man that saved his life, and simply said "Thanks."

"No problem," the boy muttered in awe. He sounded much younger than he looked, which forced Lee take a good look at his savior. Well, he certainly looked young, at least high school age. Short hair, which at that moment, was ruffled in different spots. A pair of glasses sat on his slightly large nose, and his blue eyes seem to smile back at him. The most peculiar thing about him was his clothes. He wore a shrinking black T-Shirt, with what looked liked an old British Police Box on it. Lee wasn't exactly a TV show extraordinaire, but he would be an idiot if he didn't recognize the phone booth. Then there was his pants, which were actually pajamas, and on top of that, he was barefoot. The kid looked like he literally just got out of bed.

"Did I interrupt your nap?" Lee asked, probing the boy for information. After all, maybe the kid lived here, so if he had anything in his house to help with Lee’s leg, it was better to get on the kid’s good side.

"What?" The kid stared at him incredulously for a second before looking down at his clothes. It finally clicked in his mind, making him laugh uncontrollably. "Oh, yeah. Pajamas. Right. Sorry, it's been a really weird day. Let's just say, I was asleep when all of this began."

"Obviously," Lee deadpanned, now even more curious about the stranger in front of him. "What's your name, kid?"

"Dominic,” He instantly replied, shrugging his shoulders. “What's yours?" The question felt ridiculous, like asking sand for a glass of water.

"My name's Lee,” The man spoke in his deep, articulate voice. His right eyebrow raised as he examined Dominic. “And judging by your accent, you aren't from around here, are you?"

"Hah. No. Born in Texas actually. But I've lived in Ohio for a few months now. Now... well, I'm down here in Georgia." Something about the way he said that made Lee raise an eyebrow. At least he figured out whether or not the kid lived in the house they found themselves at, but why was this kid so far from home, in his pajamas no less? It didn’t make any sense. Perhaps a vacation?

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Lee asked instead, glancing around at his surroundings. "People have been trying to eat me. And this police officer earlier was… just dead. But he came back and tried to bite me. Have you ever seen such a thing?"

Dominic froze slightly, trying to think of what to say that wouldn't give him away. Yup. He's here. If he really was in the game now, he shouldn't go around publicising that he didn't belong there. Even if he did want to tell Lee what comes next.

"Looks like zombies," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging. "You know. Like from the video games." Dominic looked up at Lee, as if he half-expected him to agree excitedly towards his brilliant suggestion.

Lee's eyebrows shot up, not quite sure what the boy was talking about before turning back towards house. "This house belong to a relative of yours then?"

“No,” Dominic replied, shrugging as he took in the large home alongside his hero. “Got trapped back here when some of those things started chasing me in the street.”

Lee nodded his understanding before narrowing his eyes, looking for any sign of life within the abode. He found none. “Well, let's see if anyone's home who can help, then.”

"Right."

They made their way up the steps of the porch, Lee knocking on the glass sliding door, which appeared to lead into the living room of the house. It looked empty, but he decided to knock on the glass anyway. Common courtesy was a staple of the South, and just because some strange things were happening around them, didn’t mean that hospitality should disappear.

"Hello? Anybody home? We need a little help," Lee shouted through the looking glass, squinting his eyes to make out any figures in the darkness within the home.

No answer. Not even a hint of movement inside.

"Try the door," Dominic added from over Lee's shoulder before glancing behind them and checking for walkers that might be trying to claw their way into the backyard. He didn't want to be outside any longer than he had to.

Lee looked back at the younger man, raising an eyebrow. "You sure that's a good idea? I don't exactly want to be shot today."

"If anyone is in there, they could use our help," Dominic reasoned, his mind jumping to Clementine. He hadn't seen her enter or leave the area since he came into the backyard. Perhaps she was still in the treehouse, but they would need that radio to contact her.

"Alright, alright," Lee sighed, trying the door. It was stuck at first, but he was able force it open with a pull. One last time before entering, he yelled "We're coming in. Don't shoot, okay?"

They cautiously entered the house one step at a time, Lee gasping as pain shot up his leg. "Ahh, shit," he muttered under his breath. "Hello? We're not intruders… or one of them."

Dominic gazed around the room, noticing the dried blood on the floor, whispering to Lee, “Jesus, it's like a murder scene in here." He knew full well that there was going to be blood in the kitchen, but the eerie feeling of seeing it in real life sent shivers down his spine. His eyes darted across the room, looking for any sign of the walker that was supposed to be here. Beyond the blood, there were no signs it was ever in the house, which forced a frown to purse on his lips.

"Take a look around, see if you can find anything useful," Lee replied, heading towards the phone on the table, which continued to beep as several voice messages were left behind on it, between the kitchen and the stairs at the other side of the living room.

Dominic felt a tear well up in his eyes as he anticipated the voicemails Lee was about to start. He slipped around the puddle in between the island and the wall of the kitchen, a look of disgust on his face, before rummaging through the kitchen drawers, looking for anything useful while trying to ignore the messages that began to play on the answering machine.

"Three new messages," The answering machine began in it’s signature monotone voice, echoing into the room before reaching his ears. "Message one. Left at 5:43 PM."

He braced himself to hear Clementine's mother on the answering machine, half wanting to put his hands over his ears to prevent the pain it would bring, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't let all of the emotions of his time playing The Walking Dead get to him. He was living it now, and that meant he had to be strong, at any cost.

"Hey, Sandra, this is Diana. We're still in Savannah. Ed had a little 'incident' with some crazy guy near the hotel, so we had to get him back to the ER and have it checked out. Anyway, he's not feeling well enough to drive back tonight, so we're staying an extra day. Thanks so much for looking after Clementine, and I promise we'll be back in time before your spring break!"

Dominic continued to rummage through the kitchen, finding a few things here and there, pocketing the walkie-talkie from the drawer to the left of the oven, since that would be his lifeline to Clementine later on. He tried to ignore the message, but the imagery it created in his mind was enough to force a grimace to twitch across his face. A walker, not yet known by the world, taking a bite out of Clementine’s father. Her mother, horrified. A crowd getting involved, pulling the ‘crazy man’ away from her father. And finally, the rush to the hospital, only for the father to die, and come back to life as the very thing that bit him.

“Message two. Left at 11:19 PM.”

"Oh my God, finally! I don't know if you've tried to reach us; all the calls are getting dropped. They're not letting us leave and aren't telling us anything about Atlanta. Please, please, just leave the city and take Clementine with you back to Marietta! I - I've got to get back to the hospital. Please let me know that you're safe."

He sniffled, trying to keep the waterworks from coming as he is almost blinded by the tears welling up in his eyes. He continued to rummage through the drawers, trying his best to block out the crying voice on the other end of the phone. Clementine was his favorite character from The Walking Dead, hands down, and he always wanted to protect her from the horrors that she would experience. He knew just how much learning the true fate of her parents will devastate her in the future.

"Message three. Left at 6:51 AM."

"Clementine? Baby, if you can hear this, call the police. That's 911. We love you… we love you… we love y-..."

The message ended abruptly, leaving Dominic to quickly wipe his face and force himself to stare at the now hazy drawer. Dead silence filled the room as he sniffed, trying to cover up any hint he felt anything from the recording.

"That was a bit painful to listen to," he croaked out, breaking the silence. He turned to look at Lee, who was staring at him with an empathetic look on his face. With a sigh, he slipped around the pool of blood and entered the kitchen.

After a brief pause, Lee asked "How old are you anyway, kid?", trying to figure out just who the enigmatic boy in front of him was. Dominic stared down at the drawer before closing it with a slam.

"Nineteen," Dominic gave bluntly, not really wanting to talk about his age to someone who could easily be around his father's age.

"I see."

"Daddy?" A little voice crackled from the radio in Dominic's pocket. Lee’s eyes fell to the walkie-talkie bulging out of Dominic’s back pocket, where the voice had come from. Dominic reached and pulled the radio out, looking over at Lee before walking over to the sliding door.

After taking a deep breath, he held down the transmit button. "Hello?"

"You need to be quiet." The voice replied in a hissed whisper, making both men exchange wide-eyed glances.

"Who is this?" He rolled his eyes at his question. It felt absurd to pretend that he didn't know her.

"I'm Clementine. This is my house," she answered. Her voice sounded exactly like it did in the game, which freaked Dominic out a little. Lee’s was actually a little bit deeper than it was in the game, now that he thought about it. I guess not everything can be spot on.

His lips perked up into a small smile, "Hello, Clementine. I'm Dominic."

"You're not my daddy," came the reply, making Dominic snicker under his breath.

"No, I'm not," he laughed at the thought. Being a father felt ludicrous, no matter how old he got. "Although I am here with a friend; his name's Lee."

"I heard you two talking outside," she mumbled.

Dominic turned back towards Lee, asking Clementine the next absurd question on this list, "so… uh, how old are you anyway?"

"Eight."

"And you're all alone?" He continued, the absurdity slowly reaching maximum absurdness.

"Yes, I don't know where anybody is," she mumbled softly before asking her own question. "How old are you*?*"

"I'm nineteen. And Lee here, he's… uh..." Dominic glanced up at Lee, hoping he would answer for him.

"I'm, uh, I'm thirty-seven," he added after taking the radio from the boy.

"Okay," She mumbled, her tone sounding fearful when she realized someone else was on the radio.

"Where are your parents?" Lee asked, looking around the living room before heading back into the kitchen. Dominic watched him for a moment before following him, his eyes glancing around the room for any sign of life, once again. Still no sign of Sandra. Where was the undead bitch hiding?

"They took a trip and left me with Sandra. They're in Savannah, I think. Where the boats are."

"Are you safe?" Lee added, looking out the window above the sink. Dominic decided to continue rummaging through the kitchen, hoping to find something, a weapon of some sort, awaiting his next cue, but the only thing he could find was a flimsy knife. He held it in his hands for a moment, keeping it at hip level so Lee wouldn’t see.

"I'm outside in my treehouse. They can't get in."

"That's smart," Lee said, almost in envy of the girl's craftiness.

"See?" Lee and Dominic noticed the treehouse door open slightly through the window, a young girl looking back at them. "Can you see me? I can see you two through the window." She waved at them, both men waving back.

Before either man could move, she screamed into the radio, and ducked her head back inside the treehouse. They both turned around to see a young women approaching them. Sandra. She tried to grab onto Lee, but he pushed her back into the stove with as much force as he could muster, letting out a panicked scream in the process. Dominic hesitated, glancing from Lee to the walker, to Lee again. No, he can't die!

Dominic rushed towards the woman, raising the knife into the air before jabbing it towards the woman. As the blade came to the bottom of its arc, the zombie grabbed a hold of him, causing the blade to miss and bury itself into her shoulder. He let out a shriek before kicking the zombie frantically in the leg, tripping the walker backward as it clawed at him. They fell to the ground in unison, Dominic’s screams starting to hurt his throat as he tried to rip the knife out of the woman’s shoulder.

Lee attempted to grab onto the woman’s shoulders and force her off of the boy, but her strength knocked him off balance, the zombie landing on top of Lee. He tried to choke it to no avail; it only gave him the challenge of avoiding its teeth. He kicked her away, her head smacking against the stove with a resonating clank, before he retreated into the living room; his back to the sliding door.

Dominic struggled to get up, his legs swimming with paralysis as he watched a life or death struggle before his eyes. He tried to fight his fear, but could only watch as the walker crawled on top of Lee, trying to bite his neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw a small figure opening the sliding door. Clementine, shaking with fear, standing above them with a hammer in hand.

“Here!” She squealed.

Lee reached out and grabbed the hammer from her hands, turning around just in time to kick the woman in the face, knocking it across the room. He lunged, knocking it to the ground, before repeatedly smashed the zombie's face in until it stopped moving. He felt vomit rising in his throat as he gazed down at its gutted face, blood pouring out like water. Panting, he turned to look at the frightened Clementine, and the wild-eyed Dominic.

“Holy shit, dude…" The younger boy breathed.

"Swear," the girl said sternly to Dominic, her brows furrowing, which made the boy giggle.

"Thanks for the help," Lee breathed to Clementine, reaching out his hand as Dominic helped him back onto his feet.

"Did… did you kill it?" She squeaked, looking down at the young women he just killed.

"I think something else killed her, before me," he guessed, barely hearing Dominic's mutter of "fucking zombies…" behind him.

Ignoring his whispers, Clementine added "I heard her scream two nights ago, maybe one of the monsters got her."

"Sure seems that way," Lee whispered before getting down on a knee, looking over the newcomer with scrutiny. "You've been all by yourself through this?"

"Yeah. I want my parents to come home now," she mumbled, looking towards the ground as Lee and Dominic exchanged knowing glances, before turning back to the little girl.

Lee fought back a cough as he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Yeah… I, uh, think that might be a little while, you know?"

"Oh."

Dominic let out a soft sigh before looking down at Clementine with a mixture of guilt and sadness as she continued to look down at her feet. "Look, we don't know what happened. But we'll look after you until then."

He watched her eyes, silently wishing he had prepared for this moment before this. Using Lee’s words from the game seemed to make her feel better though, as she looked around the room for a moment before returning her eyes to them.

"What should we do now?" Dominic glanced towards Lee, given that this was his forte.

"I think we should go find some help before it gets dark," the older man replied.

"Agreed, it's safer to move about while it's still daylight outside," Dominic nodded his head, peering out the door and into the woods behind the house. The sounds of walkers moaning still surrounded them in the distance. He turned back to Lee. "The yard looks clear, perhaps we can escape the way I came in?"

"Sounds like a plan," Lee agreed, Clementine grabbing his hand. "Let's go."

Dominic shuddered as they left the house and walked towards the front gate; he was walking next to Lee and Clementine in the fucking zombie apocalypse; the thought raced through his mind on an endless loop. Even though he had to live in a perilous world, and a gut-wrenching one at that, he had two of his favorite characters to watch his back, and he would definitely make sure to watch theirs. Maybe he could save Lee from dying? Or Carley? He could change events, and make the world better, the thoughts and ideas were never ending.

But would saving Lee really make the world better? It's a very important lesson for Clem later on… But perhaps she could still be strong even if he survives? Dominic couldn't answer his hypothetical question. As the Doctor would say, Lee's death may be a fixed point in the timeline. He could try to change it all he wants, but it's likely he would die anyway, whether he saved Lee from getting bit or not.

They rounded the corner, and stopped when they noticed two men trying to push a car out of the way on the street beyond the gate. They didn't notice the trio approaching them. They stopped pushing for a moment, the taller one groaning, "Man, I ain't never gettin' home to mama at this rate."

"That's new," Dominic muttered, wondering where they had come from, given that it had only been about ten minutes since he entered Clementine's backyard.

As Dominic watched the men he ultimately knew to be Shawn Greene and his friend, Clementine tugged on Lee's hand, causing him to look back at her. "What's the matter?"

"Should I stay?" She asked him, looking down at the ground again shyly.

"What?"

"I don't want to sleep in the treehouse tonight, but I don't know if I should leave. What if my parents come home?" She glanced at her house, uncertain.

Dominic knelt down and patted her on the shoulder, adding softly, "We won't leave you alone." She smiled, it was the first time he had seen her smile since they met her.

"Let's go somewhere safe that's close, okay?"

"That's a good idea," Lee replied, standing up once again, fumbling with the lock on the gate. The zombies Dominic originally found were nowhere to be seen, maybe taken out by the Shawn and his friend while they were busy inside the house.

"Hey, man!" Lee called over to the two men, causing them to turn around and look at them with wide eyes.

"Holy shit! Don't eat us!" The taller one pleaded, waving his hands around, shaking.

"Whoa, calm down. We're not going to hurt you," Dominic assured, raising his hands into the air as if his very presence would set off the men.

"Phew, thought for a second you two and the little one were all going to give us the chomp," the shorter man, Shawn, replied, chuckling with relief.

"Do you know what the hell this is?!" Lee found himself asking, still trying to make sense of the situation, and hoping they had a logical reason. They didn’t seem to have one though, as the shorter man shrugged.

"No idea. So you've seen them then?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We've done more than just see them," Dominic chipped in quietly, folding his arms around his chest.

"Yeah. Same here,” Shawn laughed nervously. “Well, I'm Shawn, Shawn Greene," he introduced, walking over to the trio and shaking their hands.

"I'm Lee. This is Dominic. And this one," Lee pointed to the little girl, "is Clementine."

The taller one got down on one knee and waved at the little girl, a small smile on his lips, "I'm Chet."

Clementine smiled before hiding behind Lee and Dominic, who put a hand on her shoulder for comfort, hoping that the gesture would make her a little more outgoing with their new friends.

"We shouldn't be out in the open like this. How about you help us clear the way and we'll take you two and your daughter out of here, and down to my family's farm. It should be safer there," Shawn offered, glancing at the task at hand.

"I'm not her dad… we're… just some guys," Lee stuttered, trying to explain the situation as best he could, without revealing the fact he was in a police car not too long ago.

"Some guys?" Shawn echoed, his eyebrow raising, a frown etched across his face.

"Yeah," Dominic explained, "We're taking care of her until we can find her parents."

"Oh," Shawn said, looking down at the little girl with sadness in his eyes. “She’s alone? Damn. Well, let's get going. Staying put for too long is a mistake."

Author's Notes: Alright, that's the end of part one! I'll be posting part two for A New Day pretty soon. I'm currently working on reworking some of these chapters, as I've grown quite a bit as a writer since I originally wrote them, and I'm not quite fond of my original work xD Hopefully you guys will be seeing much more from me in the future!

Hey everyone,

Just a few announcements. First, we are looking for some new moderators to join the team. As of right now we have one other moderator besides me, so I'd like to get at least one more person in here pulling strings. If that person is you, shoot me or the mods a pm on why you should be a moderator here.

Now for the real reason I'm posting. I wanted to start a weekly event on this subreddit to reward our writers. Every week I'll pick the user who posted the best episode/story and sticky their next post for a day or two. Granted, this won't be based solely on upvotes, but that will be a big part of it. I say it's not the whole part because I don't want the same person to have their posts stickied every week while others are trying to get their stories out there but are having trouble doing so.

Let me know what you guys think. Also, let me know if you have an alliterated name we could use like "Walker Wednesday" (just an example).

Also, if you guys ever have any ideas, no matter how stupid you might think they are, feel free to message me and we can talk about implementing them into the sub.

Happy Writing,

The wind was strong blowing through the valley, whipping the hair around her face. Hair that could once have been called blonde, but after so long being out in the wilderness, in the dirt, in the blood, there is no word to now describe the caked, dirtied colour of her matted locks. She stumbled along the road, walking. Walking. Walking. She had been walking so long. And as long as she had walked, she had been hungry. An aching hunger that burned in the pit of her stomach, how long had it been since she had eaten? it is wondrous, she thought, how you can keep going, keep fighting, keep struggling as long as you have a purpose, a direction. She walked.

She staggered continuously down the same dirt road that her eyes had stared down for what seemed like years. Ever since that helicopter flew over her, the loud twirl of the propellers calling to her, leading her. Leading her to hope. She had followed that helicopter, followed the direction it had gone even as she doubted if she would ever reach where it landed. If it landed. It was her last chance. Though, where had any of the previous chances gotten her? Every sight, ever sound, everything, and everyone was gone. Every face she had seen was stripped of its flesh and was seen no more. Every voice she heard was drowned in screams and never heard again. Every hopeful soul she came across ended up a soulless husk of a person laying long the side of that road. This was it, her last hope. Could there be a person at the end of this road? In that helicopter? Maybe more than a person? Maybe, people.

The sun scorched her dry flesh as she dragged herself up the path of hope, up that hill and awaited the view of the other side. She knew that if that sweet black bird had landed, it would not be close by, she would have to travel a long way still to find it and she would need to find food if she was going to make it. As she trudged over the last bit of hill, dragging her tired body, and peered over the surface of the road, she saw it. A car.

Now, cars were not an uncommon or particularly fascinating sight along this road. Abandoned and crashed vehicles was scattered along the side of the highway as if trash thrown from a window. But this car, was smoking. Steam billowed from the hood and he sat at the side of the road with his head in his hands. Wait, he? He. A man. A person. The first she had seen in weeks, maybe months. There he sat, rocking back and forth in frustration, his hands trembling as he mumbled under his breath. Seemingly unaware of her presence, she continued towards him. This could be the help she needed, where there are people, there is food. This could be what she needed to continue her journey, this could be the man to save her. Her stomach ached inside her gut, and she struggled onward toward the stranger.

As she approached him, the man stood suddenly from his seat on the grass and turned away from her direction. He angrily opened the hood of the car, his shirt wrapped around his hand to protect him from the heat. More smoke filled the air and he sighed. When the grey cloud cleared, he poked his head inside and inspected the engine. She stepped closer now and opened her mouth to call out to him, but her dry throat emitted no sound. She had not spoken, not made a sound for a virtual eternity, her lips cracked and bloody, and her tongue dried. She called out again as she was just steps away and she reached out, begging for his aid, and her voiced cracked into a shrieking moan as he turned to meet her glossy eye.

Her emaciated hand reached out and grabbed him as he clutched her forearm, trying to pry it off of him, and he stumbled back into the steaming engine. He cried out as his skin burned on the edge of the hood and he rolled to the side, both of them crumpling to the ground in a heap of flailing bodies, only one living. She wailed again as he held her by the neck at arms length, her flesh stripping from the muscle beneath and sliding under his hands. He screamed for help, though there was nobody to aid him, and she clawed at his chest in the hopes of drawing the sweet blood from his veins. So many had come before him, so many faces stripped and voices silenced and lives snuffed out as she tore their flesh from their bones. Each time, her hunger pains dulled as she tasted the gorgeous meat that they provided to her. But the very moment she licked their corpse clean of the last drop of blood, the deep ache in her abdomen crept up again, and after mere seconds of finishing her meal the hunger burned so strongly that she felt as if she had not eaten in decades. So this man, this stranger had what she needed so desperately, skin, muscle, organs. Food.

She looked deep into his eyes as she shrieked in the agony of hunger. He couldn't know the pain she felt, the regret and the hate she had for herself. Every face of every victim had stared at her blank face is if staring into the face of a monster. But if only they had known what went through her mind as she tore into their throats, the fear she felt for what she had become. But they would know, soon enough. And this, this man, screaming and fighting for his life, the same look of horror on his face and the same staring eyes that looked through her, passed her soul as if it didn't exist, would not be the last.

His hand slid across her loose skin, and as he tried desperately to hold her back, he reached with his one free hand to his belt and drew a long hunting knife. In one swift and familiar motion, he struck the side of her face, piercing her temple and severing the nerves to her right eye. She fell backwards from the impact and laid stunned on the ground. The stranger sat back against the side of the car in a moment of relief and tried to calm himself, eyes closed and hands flat against the ground to steady his shaking. Startled and high on adrenaline, he muttered to himself "it's ok, it's ok" repeating this over and over to calm his nerves. He didn't know, though, that his strike had missed her brain by mere millimetres and the knife rested in her eye socket and frontal sinus. She regained her composure and like a shot, pounced on his arm that rested out on the ground closest to her. She sunk her teeth into the tender meat as he cried out and attempted to pull his arm away. She kept her grip and as he struggled, both hands grasping at her, he ended up on his back in the dirt and she used this opportunity to crawl on top of him and lunge for his throat. This was the final move, he bled from his neck like a pipe bursting, his wide eyes started to flutter and his head rested on the ground as the blood drained from his face. She finally had her meal. She looked up at his dull eyes as she fed, the sweet taste of his skin between her teeth, and she felt a tear drip down her face. Another person, another victim, how could she go on like this? Then she blinked her eye and felt that it was not a tear, but blood, dripping down her face from her severed eye. She was not human anymore. She didn't have to feel fear or regret or guilt or shame. She just had to feed. She had to keep going, keep searching, to quench the thirst, to end her hunger for just those few beautiful moments.

Hours passed, and his corpse was picked clean. She stood and staggered backwards onto the road, feeling satisfaction and contentment. She stood for a moment, staring at the blood soaked grass. And then, she felt it. A deep ache of hunger in her belly. A feeling that made her wonder if she had eaten at all. She turned, looking down the road, and she started to walk. Where the helicopter lands, there will be people. There will be food. This was her purpose, her direction. She walked.

Chad was feeling sorry for himself again as he and his companions stopped for the night. Since the ‘troubles’ had started over a year ago, he’d been less than optimistic about ever losing his virginity.

The group he was travelling with included a married woman, a little girl, a grandmother, and an overweight woman. no options for Chad, he often thought to himself.

They’d found something of a respite on their way from GA to the Midwest—an uninhabited motel. It was rundown and dingy, with a cracked sign proclaiming “Bang For Your Buck Motel” plastered on a dim board. The overweight woman, Chad always forgot her name, had taken the Grandmother and the little girl around back, away from the small clump of Walkers in the parking lot.

Chad, Married Woman and her Husband were generally designated as the ‘Walker Killers’, which didn’t bother Chad too much. He knew the Overweight Woman wasn’t physically able to defend herself, even less so than the Grandmother and the Little Girl. Chad felt like a hero.

Heroes get the girls though, he said to himself. After dispatching of the snarling, snapping walkers, Chad distanced himself from the Walker Killers, creeping around the building, looking for open doors. He was nervous, but more curious than frightened.

He found an open door. He peeked inside and was disturbed to find a Walker handcuffed to the bed. His first instincts told him to run or to kill it, but something stirred in his khaki shorts. The Walker had clearly been a beautiful woman. Massive, nude breasts hung from her chest like plastic grocery bags filled with vomit, but the nipples were still intact, and engorged.

chad, it’s a walker. it’s dead. it wants to kill you, not make love to you, he thought to himself, but the stirring in his pants only continued. The Walker snapped at him, growling, pulling ineffectively against the restraints. This was his chance. Walkers were dead, everyone knew that, so there was no issue with consent. It was OK to sate his lust with a Walker, because Walkers weren’t people anymore, even if they used to be beautiful women.

Chad glanced around to make sure none of the other members of his travelling group were around; they weren’t. He entered the room completely, shutting the door.

“OK, listen. I don’t know if you’re going to like this or not…or if I’m going to like this or not, but you’re name is Candy. At least for now. For the next few minutes,” he said, unzipping his pants. His manhood sprang free, pointing towards Candy like a divining rod or the indicator on a compass. Was he really going to do this? How was he going to keep her from biting him? Chad shrugged and moved towards her.

End of Part 1 of Episode 1. I will continue updating as the tale of Chad progresses. Thank you all in advance for your helpful criticism and contribution. And please, if you want to give gold, I'd rather you give gold to the moderators making sure we have a place to share our ideas and our stories. thank you. -Dissenter

Hey everyone!

This subreddit has been inactive for quite a while, but I plan on giving it life again. I want to bring it back to how it was before. I’m going to talk to the other mods about getting back into things, but chances are we might be looking for new mods so stay tuned!

As for the rules, all old rules apply. However, I am going to be writing up a new Welcome page and going over the old rules with the mods and possibly adapting some new rules to make the subreddit work better as a whole. All I ask right now is that if you plan on starting back up with your stories or creating a new one, message me and let me know so I can keep track of how many people are posting.

Cool things are coming to this subreddit and I’m excited to get it started again!

Happy Writing!

Testing to see if it would be a good place to submit my new fic. How to read: The "NEW CAST" area is where I based by characters on certain actors, so if you have trouble imagining their faces, simply search up an actor/actress. Enjoy!

Jun Masumoto –Ryusei Ryo Jae Eun Rhee – Jung Eun Ji Takeshi Murano –Ryo Ishibashi Ruto Yashimura – Yuri Chichen Shinji Akai - Yuto Nakajima

Episode 101: - A New Idea Jun’s dreams were always a jumbled mess. Mostly incoherent flashes or nonsensical gibberish, but this was different. Jun could not move or speak. A shadow filled the room, followed by a large, man shaped monster, its red demonic eyes piercing the darkness. A hand stretched forward to grasp him, their intentions only it knew. Jun could feel his mouth open, but a hoarse choking noise was all that came out. His legs, glued to the floor.

The hand grabbed him around the neck and squeezed tightly. Jun could feel his life draining right before his eyes, blood seeping down his shirt. The darkness surrounded him, enveloping his body like a tidal wave.

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” His alarm shook him out of his nightmare. He flicked the off switch on his clock in the shape of a neon green and purple cat, its face a warm smile. Jun forced himself up. He was tall by Japanese standards, standing at five foot eleven inches, his head sporting a soft brown pile of hair. His face was thin, a short nose with a small mouth below it, his cheek slightly depressed. A small scar was on his temple from a fateful encounter with a cat at the age of ten. He was not heavy set, but was thin enough to not be made fun of by his peers. Jun slipped out of bed and opened the window. At once the sounds and smell of the city flew into the bedroom. His neighbors were yelling about the rusting car in the garage. A cyclist sped down the road. Birds sung on the tree adjacent to his window. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed a shirt from the closet. He hated waking up. Especially for school nonetheless, but still, an education is what he wanted. After showering, he grabbed a breakfast consisting of a protein bar, a shot of cranberry juice, and what was left of the pizza he had ordered the night before for the party he had planned.

No one showed up, much to his dismay.

He stepped out of the dorm and took in the morning sunlight. A slight breeze kissed his face, as he unlocked his bike from the rack. The sounds of heavy footsteps thudding towards him prompted him to look up. Takeshi Murano, a heavy set man who was also the local police officer shoved a bag of cucumbers in his face.

“Fresh from the wife’s garden!” he chortled. Jun took the bag and sniffed inside. “Isn’t your wife planning on using these for the pickles she is raving about?” he asked. Takeshi playfully put a finger to his lips, a grin spread on his face “Shhh. She never gives away produce this freely. Even if the world needed it” he laughed and headed back into the police car. He waved and took off.

Jun stuffed the vegetables into his knapsack and took off towards his first class. He parked and secured his bike, seeing a group of fellow students waving at him. Jun waved back and joined them. His two best friends were gawking over a new singer in a pulp magazine. One of them, Ruto Yashimura, a pimple faced and lanky 18 year old and the other Shinji Akai, a rich transfer student who’s skin was impeccable, along with his metro sexual choice of clothing. The three sat down and waited until Mr. Horo showed up to teach Economics.

Ruto leaned over to Jun and whipped out his phone. “Check this out, man” he said with a faint tone of excitement in his voice. The phone lit up and a video pulled up to show a woman lying on the street, covered in blood, obviously dead. A policeman was checking the scene, when the woman woke up and reached for him.

Jun scoffed “That is beyond fake you idiot” Ruto stuffed another handful of peanuts into his mouth and replied “I thought so too, but check this out” The video continued to show the cop yelling at her to stand down. The woman slowly shambled towards him. He fired his gun, bullets slamming into the woman’s chest. Finally, the cop aimed for the head and fired, sending the woman crumpling to the ground. Jun smirked as he pulled out his notes “You need to pay more attention to class, and less to kid’s pranks” Paul shook his head “I think it’s real. Besides…you never know what the terrorists will unleash” Ruto laughed “Who? Kim Jong Un?”

The three laughed as Mr.Horo walked into the class. After the class Jun left his friends on his way to the next class: Horticulture. There was only one reason he took the class. And there she was. Jae Eun Rhee. She was shorter than Jun, had a slender body with her face accented with almost model like features. Her hair was black with purple and red highlights. She was always hit on by the jocks & rich kids, and she always rejected them. Jun always wondered why she never dated any of them and why she sat next to him. She saw him and waved with a giant smile.

He blushed and waved back. Jae Eun gasped in fake horror “Have you seen the new video about that girl who died and came back” Jun rolled his eyes. He shook his head. “Its fake you know.” He replied coolly. Jae Eun cocked her head “You sure? Sure seems real to me”. Jun nodded “Youtube is full of these kinds of pranks. Always done for attention”. She laughed and waved a finger “Come on, let’s grab the best seats before the nerds grab them” Jun used all of his strength to not stare at her in class. After the class was over, Jae Eun grabbed his arm “Hey! I was wondering if you would like to go the new dance club in town, NeuroNeon?”

Jun’s eyes widened “NeuroNeon?! S-sure! I would love to!” Jae Eun smiled and handed him a piece of shiny paper. A large “VIP” was sprawled across the top. He looked up to see Jae Eun grin. ‘Now you don’t have an excuse to stay inside all night tomorrow” she cooed. Jun nodded and waved goodbye to her.
Jun usually cut through the business section of town in order to reach the dorms, but he also had another path which led through a small factory section. He always hated going thru here, but it was the only area of town with an actual Kool Chill gas station. He always loved going to one for a Kool Chill slushy, which today being the hottest day thus far warranted one. He rode up to the gas station and parked beside the door. The inside was cool, with the smell of disinfectant permeating the air. He nodded to the owner and poured himself a Kool Chill.

He paid for it and got on his bike. He was about to kick off, before he heard a faint groan. He parked his bike and headed towards the groaning. Maybe someone needed help he thought. He walked down a long alley, with trash littering the ground, garbage cans long forgotten. He knew about the homeless people who often stayed here during the hot summer days, but it was eerily empty, save for the noise.

Jun turned a corner to find a figure dressed in torn clothing bending over what appeared to be a dog. Jun for a fleeting moment thought it was a homeless man mourning his dog…until he heard the crunching of bones & the sound of flesh being torn. Jun’s eyes shot open to see the figure stuffing pieces of the dog into its mouth, gristle and blood dripping from its chin. Jun slowly backed away, bumping into the brick corner. He turned but his feet gave out, sending him falling into a pile of cans. The cans rattled loud enough to wake the dead it seemed.

The figure stopped eating and stood up, turning towards Jun. Jun then saw the face. One eye was missing & a huge gash was on its cheek, blood spattered all over, with dull grey eyes locked on Jun. The low gurgling noise was replaced with a loud, guttural shriek. Jun ran as fast as he could but he tripped yet again. The former man lumbered towards him still, his shoulder hunched over with his arms reaching towards the fumbling Jun. Jun grabbed a nearby brick and stood up.

“BACK OFF!” he yelled. The man still followed him. Jun looked back, hoping to see a policeman or anyone in fact. He dropped the brick and ran inside the Kool Chill. The owner was stocking smokes. “Back so soon? Forgot something I bet-” he saw the look on Jun’s face. “What the hell is wrong, boy? Why are you so pale?” He looked over Jun’s shoulder to see the man stumble into the store.

The owner angrily shouted, “HEY! It’s not yet Halloween! Stop scaring this boy or-” he was cut short when the man grabbed him and sunk his teeth into his neck. The owner screamed and collapsed onto the floor, blood gushing out of his neck. Jun gasped and screamed “HELP!” The man jolted away from the owner and went towards Jun again. Jun ran thru the chip aisle, and saw the automotive section. A screw driver in a plastic package was hanging on the hook nearby.

Jun grabbed it and scrambled to open it. The owner in the meantime crawled for the phone, and dialed the police. “G-g-get here now!” he gurgled into the phone. Jun finally opened the package and held the screwdriver towards him. The man was upon him, and Jun plunged the tool into the heart of the man. The man didn’t seem to even notice, and still snapped at him, saliva spewing out of his mouth. Jun slid the screwdriver out of the chest and remembered the video he saw “This better work!” he shouted. He yanked the hair back and slammed the screwdriver into the eyeball hard.

The man stopped and sank to the floor, snapping its jaw. Jun backed away and watched as the man writhed, black blood seeping through the wound. Finally, the man stopped and went limp on the now bloody floor. Jun panted and saw the blood coating his hands. They shook violently, and he nearly collapsed, had a shelf not been nearby. He made it to the front of the store to find Takeshi standing there, having just arrived with his car parked outside. “What happened? What-” he then noticed the body.

He walked carefully towards it and nudged it with his shoe. “It’s dead?” he asked, his face growing dark. Jun nodded slowly. Takeshi picked up the screwdriver. “You did this?” Jun again nodded. Takeshi tossed Jun a rag “Clean yourself off kid” he said smiling faintly. He then noticed the owner. He jolted over to him and placed his finger on his neck. There was nothing.

“Takeshi…is he…” Jun began to ask. Takeshi grunted and turned towards Jun. “He was bit…in the neck by that…man” Jun explained. Takeshi blinked, his face having lost its cheery expression it always had. Takeshi pulled out his radio “We need a containment doctor here now. Location: Kool Chill on South Tokaro Street”. He then pulled out his handgun, a polished snub-nosed revolver with a white handle. Jun frowned “But the man is dead” He exclaimed. Takeshi grunted “it’s not for him…” he motioned towards the owner of the shop, now pale on the floor. Takeshi held the gun up to the forehead of the owner, whose eyes shot open, now pale grey. Black veins popped across his face, and a faint growl was heard. Takeshi crumpled his face “I am so sorry friend” he mournfully exclaimed. Jun was about to protest this action, when a loud BANG was heard. Takeshi had fired his handgun, and the owner slumped against the counter wall, a bloody hole in his forehead. Jun shook, and choked “You….you shot him Takeshi!” Takeshi shook his head.

“No...He had turned.” he quietly replied.

If there is a generally positive response to this, I will post the next 3 seasons here.

EP4: Silence. There was nothing but silence. All notion of sound had halted as soon as the last arrow hit the house. Molly and Jess sat frozen, they were barely breathing as they strained their ears trying to hear any movement. There was no sound, no crunch of snow, no moans of the dead and definitely no sound of the living. After a few more moments Molly decided to slowly edge herself to the window. She made quick work of crawling across the floor towards the window, trying to make as little noise as possible. The view from the window was almost like a painting, it seemed like everything had been frozen in time. Molly looked down the street to the left. All she could see were two abandoned cars and another row of houses. She then turned her head to the right and looked down the other side of the street. That’s when she saw him. The archer was still there, standing still while blankly staring at the house. The archer stood only fifteen meters from the house. Which was close enough to make out the menacing smile on his face.

“What is going on?” Jess asked.

“He is still here”

“What do you mean still here?” Jess questioned as she shuffled along the floor to join Molly at the window.

Jess followed Molly’s gaze and saw the archer standing in the middle of the road. A shiver running down her spine once she noticed his smile. The two girls sat still and silent. The sun was slowly starting to set behind the archer’s right shoulder. With every passing minute, the street was getting darker and darker. Soon there would be nothing but black outside of the window. Which is not ideal lighting when there is a psychotic archer running about.

“We have to do something before it gets dark. Otherwise, he will be able to sneak up on the house without us knowing.” Jess said.

“Give me a second, I am trying to think.” Molly replied.

A few minutes of silence rolled by before Molly spoke.

“How about we go out through the back and make a run for it?”

“You can’t be serious? Do you want to be hunted by a man with the bow in the dark? I sure as fuck don’t” Jess said as she moved away from the window towards the hallway.

Molly contemplated Jess’s response and knew that she was right. But what could they do? Using the dark night sky would be the ultimate tactical advantage, either for them or for him. But the risk was too great. Even an untrained individual could instinctively move through the darkness undetected and unheard. This archer probably was trained, the way he acted, the way he shot the bow and the way he presented himself made Molly guess that he had some sort of training. Which meant that leaving under the cover of night would be a death sentence for the two girls.

Molly spent the next five minutes watching both the archer and the continuously descending sun. But that’s when she caught a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. Looking towards the movement she could see that there was a small group of walkers slowly making their way up the street. They were still about fifty meters away but with every passing moment they were gaining ground. Molly turned back to the archer and saw that he too had noticed the walkers. He slowly pivoted on his feet, making sure he could see the house and the advancing walkers. The smile had slowly drained from his face by the realisation that his game was been disrupted.

“We might actually be okay.” Molly said turning towards Jess with a smile on her face. “Why do you say that?”

“There is a group of walkers making their way up the street towards the archer. In a few minutes, he is either going to have to kill all of them or hide. Either way, it gives us a great opportunity.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Let’s wait to see what happens. If he fights them, we will have a great opportunity to attack. If he hides then we can make a break for it without him seeing that we have left.”

“Okay, I will follow your lead.”

Another two minutes had passed, the walkers were now only twenty meters from the archer. But even with the closeness of the walkers, the archer had not budged. As the light was all but extinguished, the walkers hadn’t caught sight of the dark figure in the middle of the road. Another thirty seconds past, the walkers were now only fifteen meters away. The archer finally decided to slowly move backwards. He took his time and made sure to watch where each foot was going to make as little sound as possible. He managed to get behind a parked red Mustang that was just on the other side of the street. Once he reached the Mustang he ducked down behind the trunk and stayed still. The whole time the archer was moving Molly had kept a close eye on him. Noting his technique, posture, and final destination.

“I guess he is choosing to hide.” Molly whispered over to Jess.

“Why where is he?”

“He is behind that red Mustang. At least he isn’t trying to hide from a bull or he would be in big trouble.” Jess slowly got to her feet and made her way to the window. After crouching next to Molly she could see the hooded man crouching, trying to make himself look invisible.

“There is something about this man that worries me.” Molly said.

“What is it?”

“The way he acts make me believe that he is trained. Maybe military maybe not. But he definitely has some form of training.” “Okay, but why is this an issue?” Jess said in a quizzical voice.

“Look where he is hiding. It is awful. Hiding behind a bright red car with walker’s only footsteps away. He had a chance to run and hide in a different house but he didn’t. Something is wrong.”

Even as the last word slipped from Molly’s lips, she realised what he was doing. The archer was now standing up and aiming his bow at the window. As fast as she could Molly grabbed Jess and dived to the ground. Seconds later the glass shattered and sprinkled all over them. Both girls shot back up to their feet and sprinted for the hallway. Once there Molly picked up her rifle and gave her pistol to Jess.

“Know how to use that thing?” Molly asked.

Jess proceeded to empty the ammunition clip, checked the content and the put clipped it back in. “I know a thing or two.”

Molly Smiled and moved towards the door.

“Why did he shoot at us? There was no way he would have hit us accurately at that range with no light.” Jess said. “He wasn’t aiming to hit us.”

“Then what was he aiming for?”

“He wanted to break the glass to attract the walkers.” As soon as Molly finished her sentence, a walkers arm smashed through the front window. Then another arm and another arm. Till all seven walkers were banging on the front of the house.

“Get behind me and whatever you do stay with me.” Molly said as she turned to Jess and gave her a reassuring smile.