Chapter Text
It was day eighty-four. It's been three months into the apocalypse. And everything was already lost. You used your pocket knife to carve in the next stroke into the floor.
You were lost in time and exact dates, but from the day you first saw the living dead, you've made a stroke every day onto your bedroom floor. Some of the strokes had names carved into them.
Your mother, your father, your siblings... All of their names were carved by different strokes. The days they died, disappeared or lost contact... It was just you now... You had a fair amount of food left. Enough to last you the rest of Fall. But... What was the point?
Everything you loved and cared about... It was all gone... And to keep fighting? To keep living? Was it worth it? No one would miss you...
But you were scared. You didn't think you could pull the trigger or hang yourself. You definitely couldn't chuck your life into the hands of those demons... You were a coward... So much so, you couldn't even take your own life...
Now, you had to defend yourself against the dead and the living. Don't get me wrong, you could handle the dead fine. Lead them out of the house, bash their head in with a pipe, shove a screwdriver through their head, sometimes having to result to your dad's old rifle. The living is what scared you. You couldn't predict the living.
They raided homes all around here and if what you heard was right, they'd kill the dead and living or force them into their groups making them into slaves, torturing and raping them. Few of them have came into your house, but you hid well enough that they never found you. You meant to keep it that way.
You couldn't trust anyone. Not anymore.
You cracked open a can of pears and began to eat the sweet fruit with your bare hands. You were careful not to drop any, savoring every bite. You didn't know when it would be your last. You grabbed a book from your desk and decided to do some light reading.
It was the apocalypse, but you weren't turning into an animal, yet. Besides, you boarded up your windows and shut every entrance. No dead person could get in and if the living came in, you'd hear it.
Just as you were finishing your last pear, you heard the sound of a door slamming open. Someone was in the house, and they were in the house. You licked your fingers, as you quietly set your can to the side and grabbed your rifle. You quietly stepped over to your wall and slowly shifted a piece of wood over.
Your wall was busted for the longest time and your we're glad you hadn't nailed it back in the past. You slid in to stand in a very I closed area between the walls, before pulling the piece of wood back over to conceal yourself. If anyone noticed the hiding spot, you could bust out and shoot them before they could think twice.
You slowed your breathing and listened for footsteps and voices. You couldn't hear any talking, but you did hear the creaking of floorboards throughout the house. There was multiple ones and your blood ran cold realizing that they're was multiple people in the house.
You waited patiently as they stepped through your home. You had hid your food in the floorboards of your home and knew they wouldn't find it unless it was by chance. You heard steps climb up your stairs and knew someone was beginning to come close. You kept still, waiting in anticipation.
The person stepped into a couple of the other rooms, before creaking the door open to yours. They slowly stepped in and you peeked through the cracks in the wall. You could tell the person was bit, tough, and they held a sort of weapon in their hands you couldn't see clearly. It was clearly a guy. He lowered said weapon and examined the room.
He walked over and picked up the can of pears, seeing that it was freshly opened. Ugh, amateur mistake. He glanced over at the book, before his gaze travelled to the floor. To your horror, that gaze then trailed over to exactly where you were. Your heart froze in panic.
No one has ever even guessed where you've been before.
The man raised his weapon, aiming it at your position.
"Unless your hellbent on staying in that mouse hole of yours, I suggest ya step out before I make ya." The man spat. You breathed, trying to calm down. Just do what he says, if he makes a bad move, you'll shoot. You slowly cracked open the wall, sliding the piece of wood away and stepping out. "What the heck... You're just a kid!"
You could see the guy a lot better now. Brown, greasy hair fell around his head, with some unclean facial hair having grown from his face. Couldn't blame the guy, no one had the time to shave anymore, even girls. He wore a long-sleeved button up shirt, with a denim vest over it along with some dirty jeans. Now that you could see better, his weapon was clearly a crossbow.
Huh, you hadn't seen one of those, yet.
You met his eyes, which were squinted and you could tell it was natural right away. He nodded to your gun and your grip tightened on it.
"Look, girly. I don't want to knock an arrow into your head just because you made a stupid choice, just set down the gun and we can talk." He didn't lower the crossbow and you were becoming anxious.
"How do I know you won't shoot?" You asked.
"You don't, you'll just have to trust me." He answered back. You closed your eyes, making a quick prayer, before opening them and looking at the man. You needed a sign that you'd be okay. There was a moment where you just both stood there, breathing and watching the others movements. Something caught your eye.
A white feather flew up from the ground from a breeze that drifted into the room. It floated in the air for a moment, before drifting back to the ground. Well... Dead or not. You had nothing to lose. You placed your gun on the ground, before standing up straight and meeting the man's eyes.
"What now?" You asked, as he lowered his crossbow.
"We talk."
You both looked over as some footsteps reached the door to reveal someone else, a boy maybe ten years younger than you, wearing a huge cowboy hat. His eyes widened and he looked to the man.
"Is she...?" The boy started.
"She's harmless." The man stated.
"What do we do?" The kid asked, glancing at you.
"We talk to your dad, see what he has to say." The man slapped a hand on the kid's shoulder. "I'll go grab him, watch her for a moment."
The man left as the kid's hand went to the gun on his side. You raised your hands up in defense.
"I don't mean any harm." You stated. "You're in my home."
"I'm sorry 'bout that. Times have gotten rough." The kid frowned, glancing at your gun. "My name is Carl, what's yours?"
"... ___... Are these guys...?" You trailed off. Carl caught on and shook his head.
"We've got a good group. Everyone looks out for each other. Like a family." He smiled a little, adjusting his hat. "... You've been here all alone?"
"I used to have a family around, but..."
"I understand... We've lost friends and family, too..." Carl nodded in empathy. You heard a pair of footsteps approached and looked over to see the man from before walk in with another.
The new man, with curly brown hair and a full on beard-mustache combo, looked you over, before letting out a sigh.
"We don't mean you any harm, but would it be alright if we discussed some things?" The new man asked. You glanced at the man from before who looked at you with a narrow gaze. You looked to the new guy and nodded.
"Okay, I'll talk."
~
"You've done been holed up here for three months and you haven't had to kill any of the living?" The new man, you now knew as Rick, asked.
"Haven't had to... Kept myself hidden well enough." You answered. He had asked you a couple questions and you quickly warmed up to him and Carl. The man from before, who was named Daryl, you weren't so sure. He was quiet, letting Rick take over, but he seemed skeptical of you.
"You're lucky then." Rick nodded, before clearing his throat and standing up. "We'll have to ask the others, but I don't think I'd mind having you along."
"What?" You blinked.
"You said you were good with mechanics and basic technology, we could use that. And you know how to use a rifle, not a lot of us do. We could always use an extra hand." Rick smiled a little, looking to the other two. "What do you guys say?"
"I wouldn't mind! She's been through a lot and another friend sounds good to me." Carl grinned with enthusiasm.
"..." Daryl shrugged, scratching his cheek. "I don't see anything wrong with it, yet. I'd like to see the kid in action."
"Great, we'll see what the others think and decide then." Rick looked to you. "It's your decision. Want to join us?"
You looked at all of them. You didn't want to grow attached and lose something, again, but... They were offering you a chance at some sort of hope.
"Sure... I'll come with... And I'll do my best..."
~
You had packed up your possessions and even revealed your food to the three, before heading with them off to their group. It was strange, being in a car after so long, it was comforting. Rick drove and had Carl sit up front with him. You sat back with Daryl and couldn't help, but feel anxious.
Rick and Carl chatted lightly upfront and it was getting a bit awkward with the silence in the back. Finally Daryl glanced over, eyeing your rifle.
"So, where'd you learn to shoot?" Oh, good. A normal conversation.
"My dad. He taught me when I turned twelve and every summer we'd go to the mountains for a week to hunt..." I scratched my head. "Biggest thing I shot then was rabbits. The undead, or walkers like you call them, are a lot different... It was hard the first time..."
"It was for everyone..." Daryl looked ahead. "But we also get used to it..."
"You aren't wrong there." You offered a little smile. "Things have changed."
"Can't do anything there. But good time to get rountoit on basic survival." Daryl fingered the string of his crossbow. "Get in a lot of good practice with these walkers, that's for sure."
"Gosh, we make it sound like this has been going on for years." You joked.
"Heh, to be expected. Like you said, things have changed. We aren't in the same world." His eyes met yours and you noted their dark blue color. "All we can do is live with it."
"Or die with it."