Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**So this is my first fanfic, so hopefully it's good. By the way, it may contain Daryl/OC and possible other pairings later, but I'm not sure yet. The rating might change to in later chapters. Now that that's all over with, please enjoy the story.**

**And I sadly don't own The Walking Dead or any of the characters in it, only my OCs.**

The chemical elements that make up a normal human adult body is 25 liters of water, 20 kilograms of carbon, 4 liters of ammonia, 1.5 kilograms of lime, 800 grams of phosphorus, 250 grams of salt, 100 grams of saltpeter, 80 grams of sulfur, 7.5 grams of fluorine, 5 grams of iron, 3 grams of silicon, and small amounts of 15 other elements. There are 10 pints of blood in the average adult human body and it only takes the loss of about 2 pints of blood for someone to pass out, about 1/5 blood loss to go into shock, and the loss of about 4 pints to kill a normal human.

When a person dies, the body begins to cool down almost immediantly. Each hour after death, the body temperature drops about 1.5 degrees Fahrenheit until it reaches room temperature, in which the blood in the body begins to pool in the parts closest to the ground. Two to six hours after death, the body becomes stiff. A few days after death, the bacteria and enzymes in the body begins to eat and break down the host. The body changes color, gas begins to build up, the body becomes bloated, and the tongue and eyes swell up. A week after death, the skin becomes blistered and brittle. A month after death, the teeth, hair, and nails begin to fall out, and the internal organs and tissues liquefy, bloating the body more until the body explodes, finally only leaving a skeleton.

Those are the rules of death. They are set in stone and nothing can change them. Death happens to everything, everywhere, at some point in time, and it is impossible to change it. Science, religion, and believing can not even change death and what happens afterwards. The rules of death can never be changed.

And of course, those were the very rules that were tossed out the fucking window when the dead began rising.

With the dead rising and the living being killed off rather quickly, it was like the whole world decided to throw its hands in the air and exclaim, "Fuck it! I'm done!" Now, because of that, Hannah was left laying on top of a moving truck that had long since run out of gas along the side of a highway in Georgia. Hannah's backpack was laying next to her, and her weapons lay on the other side of her, close enough for her to grab when needed. Her eyes were closed and she had her arms behind her head. The sun beat down on her and the birds were chirping. Other than the distant moans and groans of the occasional creeper, it would have been a perfect day.

A noise from below Hannah caught her attention and she sat straight up. Carefully looking over the edge of the truck, she saw three creepers had managed to sneak up on her while she was daydreaming and were now waiting at the bottom of the truck, their thin, frail arms reaching up towards her and lipless mouths snapping and gnashing at her. Hannah sighed and reached for the machete and metal pipe that lay next to her. She easily slipped down the opposite side of the truck and peeked around the corner. The creepers hadn't seemd to notice that she had slipped down yet. Gripping the stained length of metal around the makeshift tape handle in one hand and the machete in the other, Hannah walked around the truck.

She swung the pipe at the head of the first creeper and it cracked solidly against its target. The creeper stumbled backwards and Hannah then swung the machete at its head, the blade digging into it, causing a spray of blood. Hannah yanked the blade out of the creeper and swung it at the second one, the blade lodging itself into its jaw, but ultimately not doing any damage. It kept trying to lunge at her, the machete being the only thing that kept it away from her. Hannah tried once more to free the blade, but it didn't move, and the final creeper was now grabbing at her arm, trying to take a bit out of it. Gritting her teeth, Hannah managed to twist her body and hit the third creeper in the head just hard enough to make it stumble back. Turing her attention back to the creeper in front of her, Hannah swung the pipe at its head and it fell, taking the machete with it. Hannah spun on her heels and hit the other creeper again, who had stumbled back to her. The pipe connected with its head and a small spray of blood erupted onto Hannah. She ignored it and brought the pipe down again and again on the creeper's head until it vaguely resembled ground meat. The creeper with the machete jammed in its jaw was still struggling on the ground and Hannah brought the pipe high above her head and brought it down with as much force and she could. The pipe cracked against its skull over and over until it stopped moving. Putting the pipe back securly on her belt, Hannah knelt and grabbed the handle of the machete. Bracing her foot in the creeper's chest, she yanked as hard as she could. The machete finally came free with a hard pull and it brought a spray of blood and gore with it, which ended up getting all over Hannah. She was breathing hard and swallowed, trying to catch her breath.

"Well shit," she swore, holding her arms out in front of herself to check the damage. She was drenched in blood and chunks of gore. Hannah removed her black sweatshirt and let it drop to the ground beside creepers. The blood had already seeped through the fabric and red streaks decorated her bare arms.

She jumped back up onto the moving truck with ease and grabbed her belongings so she can head out again. She really needed a shower and being on the side of a highway wasn't going to get her that, so she needed to keep moving. Something suddenly caught her attention and she stopped to stare at a window of a car. There was something written on the window, but it was mostly washed away. The only world that Hannah could barely make out was the word 'Sophia'. There was also the remains of food on the car, like they were put there for someone. Hannah turned away from it and kept walking.

Hannah had cut through the woods and sighed in relief when she finally saw the old farmhouse. She was very tempted to just run to the house and find a shower, but she knew that she couldn't do that yet. First things first, she had to make sure there weren't any creepers or other people that would be a immediate threat. After checking what looked like it was once a horse barn, the charred husk of what looked like was once another barn, and the old RV sitting out in front of the green and white house, she deemed it safe from the outside at least. Now the only thing was to make sure it was safe on the inside too, which she had to do quickly because it was getting dark and any person with half a brain knew it wasn't smart to be outside at night unless absolutly necessary. After making sure that both her pipe and machete were straped securely to her belt, Hannah gripped her revolver tightly in her hand and quietly walked up the porch steps. The door was luckily unlocked and Hannah snuck into the house with ease, not making a sound.

The first room looked like some sort of foyer, and it was a mess. It was obvious that whoever had been here last was in a hurry judging by the wrecked and overturned furniture. Hannah walked over to the shelf on one of the walls and picked up a picture. After dusting the thin layer of grim that covered the glass, Hannah stared at a smiling older man with white hair and two smiling girls, one with blood hair and an older one with short brown hair. A smile crept onto Hannah's face as she thought that these people must have been good people, but the smile disappeared when she realized that they were most likely dead by now. Putting the picture back in its place, she finished her round on the main floor, and found that it was just like outside was: quiet. The kitchen looked surprisingly stocked still and Hannah made a mental note to come back down after she was done looking through the rest of the house to scavange as much eatable things as she could. After the main floor was totally looked through, Hannah made her way to the stairs and began walking up them.

_Crack!_

Hannah managed to duck in time to be narrowly missed by a bullet, which had dug itself in the wood behind where her head just was. Hannah made sure her gun was fully loaded before taking a deep breath and peeked back over the railing to find who had shot her. There was another gunshot and Hannah jerked her head to the side to avoid the bullet that also narrowly missed her head. Another gunshot and Hannah was now again taking cover in the stairwell. She may have risked her life just then, but at least she now knew where the shooter was and that little bit of information brought a smile to her face. Now all she had to do was get to the shooter and that wasn't going to be easy. Luck seemed to be on her side, though, because there was a doorway just in front of the staircase and if she could run fast enough, she could dive into the room. Taking another deep breath, Hannah moved.

She manuvered the barrel of her revolver over the railing and shot two shots where she knew the shooter was and then took her chance: she ran like hell. Hannah dove into the room, another bullet narrowly missing her. Damn, luck really was on her side. She let out the breath she hadn't noticed she had been holding and loosened her grip on her gun. Peeking once more around the corner, she nearly got her head blown off again, but that gunshot only confirmed that the shooter was still where Hannah thought they were. Slinking away from the doorway, Hannah quickly turned and surveyed the room she was in. It was a bed room, and much to her delight, there were two doors, not including the one she had just came through. If her knowledge was right, one door was a closet and the other lead into another room. Checking the first door, Hannah sighed in relief when it was a door that lead to a bathroom. The bathroom had a door across from her and one to the side, which most likely lead to the hallway. Hannah crouched and walked to the door across the bathroom from her. If she was right, the shooter would be in the next room.

Hannah waited for a moment, trying to calm her heart, which had sped up without her noticing. The blood pumped in her ears and adrenaline raced through her vains. She knew she shouldn't be this excited, but she couldn't help herself. Something about being in a life or death situation got her blood pumping. She blamed the apocalypse.

Hannah slowly opened the door, trying to not make a loud noise. The door swung open with ease and Hannah was able to peek into the room. She tightened her grip on the hunting knife that she had switched her gun out for. The vague outline of the shooter stood next to the door, their attention still out in the hallway. When the person moved to get a better look of the hall, Hannah took her chance. She ran foward and grabbed the person from behind and pushed them up against the wall, pinning their arms behind them and the blade of her knife pressed firmly against their throat.

"Shooting at someone isn't a very good welcoming, you do know that right? Oh, and drop your weapons," Hannah asked, staring at the person. Now that she was closer and could actually feel the person, she saw it was a girl. The girl was rather slim and only came up to Hannah's shoulders. She struggled against Hannah's hold, which only caused Hannah to press the knife harder against her throat, drawing a thin line of blood. This caused the girl to stop struggling and drop her gun, which Hannah kicked across the room behind her. "If you stop struggling, this will be a lot easier for both of us, but mostly for you. Okay, now, I'm going to let you go, but you promise not to attack me, alright?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," the girl said, twitching to be freed. Hannah let her go and the girl's hand flew up to her neck to check out the damage Hannah's knife had done. Her eyes flew up to Hannah's face and she glared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I want to clean up and spend the night here. If you let me do that, then I'll be out of your hair tomorrow as long as you promise not to try and kill me in my sleep or steal from me or anything," Hannah said, sheathing her blade.

"Do you have a group?" the girl asked and Hannah shook her head. "Yeah, neither do I. I don't really care if you sleep here, but it has to be downstairs, and you don't come up here no matter what. The water works here too, but it's only cold, if that's okay with you."

"No, that's perfect by me. I just really need to get cleaned up," Hannah said with a small laugh, holding her still gore covered arm out. "Some of those creepers snuck up on me and I had to get rid of them."

"You call those things creepers?"

"Yeah, what do you call them?"

"They're walkers to me," Tristin said and Hannah smiled at the name.

"That sounds a lot more appropriate than creepers," Hannah said. "Well, I guess I should probably head back down stairs. I'll have to make sure it's all secure before I can even think about relaxing. Good night."

Hannah walked out the door, but Tristin reached out and grabbed her arm, making her stop. When she looked back over at Tristin, Tristin asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Hannah."

"My name's Tristin."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Tristin," Hannah said and continued towards the stairs.

After making sure all the windows and doors were properly secure, Hannah finally got her shower she had wanted for so long. Tristin was right when she said that the water was cold, but that barely mattered to Hannah as she washed the blood and dirt that had accumulated in her hair since her last shower. The water had turned a dark muddy color by the time it was down the drain, and when the water started to become clear again, Hannah finally shut the water off and got out. After putting on clean clothes, she walked out to find a bed to sleep in. The first bedroom she came upon looked good, but the sheets looked like they were long overdue for a change and Hannah quickly pulled them from the bed and tossed them in the corner of the room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the mattress. A rather large blood stain took up the middle of the mattress and it would have been a miracle if whoever was here last lived. Feeling sick to her stomach, Hannah quickly left to the room to find another bed. When she finally did, she didn't bother to take off the sheet, in fear that she would find another blood her head hit the pillow, Hannah was alseep, thanking whatever was out there for a surprisingly good day.

But, so it would happen, Hannah's usually shitty luck caught up with her finally, and the day would turn from good to horrible in a matter of hours.

**Yay! First chapter done! I really hope it was good and I'll update soon. Goodbye!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Walking Dead**

Tristin was sound asleep when she was suddenly shaken from her dreams. Survival instincts told her to puch away whoever was shaking her and lunge for her weapons, but sleep still fogged her judgement so all she did was mumble and roll over. Hopefully whoever it was trying to wake her got the message to leave her the hell alone, but the kept pushing her. When Tristin refused to wake up, the person huffed in frustration and finally pushed her hard off the bed and onto the floor.

"What the hell?" Tristin exclaimed as she sat up and rubbed her head where it had connected with the floor. She saw Hannah was standing in her room, on the opposite side of the bed, and she noticed that she also had her supplies and weapons, like she was ready to go.

Hannah picked up Tristin's things and threw them over the bed at her. "Come on, we have to move. Now."

"Why? What's going on?' Tristin asked as she hastly pulled on her hoodie and strapped her hatchet and gun to her belt. "Hey, answer me already!"

"Your stupid gunfight you decided to have with me drew the attention of some walkers and now they're trying to get in," Hannah said, looking out the window. The number of walkers had increased by almost double and they were banging on the front door and some of the front windows. "Last I looked, there were no walkers around the back, so we can probably sneak out that way and avoid them altogether. If we're going to do that though we need to move now. You ready?"

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here," Tristin said after she slung her backpack over her shoulder. The two girls quickly ran down the stairs and to the backdoor. After making sure it was still safe, they threw open the door and ran. A few of the walkers were standing in their way as they ran through the field and away from the house, but a swift hit from Hannah's pipe as they ran past sent them stumbling away from them and out of their way.

"AHHH!" Hannah heard Tristin suddenly scream. Hannah stopped in her tracks and turned around so see Tristin laying in the grass behind her. Hannah quickly ran back to her and helped her up and made sure she was steady before letting her go.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tripped over something," Tristin said as she swept the grass away with her foot to see what she had tripped over. She wheeled back when she saw what lay in the grass. The remains of a person lay half buried in the grass and dirt. A hole was shot through the skull. The tattered remains of a blue jacket and what looked to be once white pants covered some of the body. Tristin turned away from the body. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

Hannah nodded and quickly followed her. They kept running until they were in the woods, where they slowed down, but kept moving because they knew it wasn't safe yet. Not daring to go directly onto the road, the two girls kept to the side, hidden in the shadows of the trees, until they was a lone car that still looked like it could possibly run. Hannah gestured for Tristin to follow her to the car and they first checked to make sure no walkers were lurking in or around the car before Hannah swiftly slid into the driver's seat and ducked under the dash. Tristin stayed outside the door, shotgun in hand in case some dead showed up, and a few minutes later, she jumped in surprise when she heard the rev of an engine. She looked over her shoulder and saw Hannah sitting in the car, a triumphant smile spread across her face.

"How the hell do you know how to hotwire a car?" Tristin demanded, still looking at Hannah with awe.

"Spoilers," Hannah said with a sly smile. "Now hurry up and get it. We don't have all day."

Tristin quickly ran in front of the car and slipped in the passanger seat. As soon as the door was closed, Hannah took off down the abandon road. The moon was high in the sky and gave off just enough light to be able to see without using the headlights, so Hannah left them off. Twently minutes later, the the soft noise of Tristin's snores filled the quiet car. Hannah looked over at her briefly and saw her head was pressed against the window and her mouth was hanging open slightly. Hannah chuckled softly to herself and wondered how the teen could sleep so soundly after almost getting eating only twently minutes ago.

A couple of hours passed and the sun had started to rise, bathing everything in early morning light. Tristin was still sleeping and fatigue had just hit Hannah less than five minutes ago and she pulled the car over. Turning it off, she reclined the chair and curled up with a blanket that she had found in the backseat of the car. She had only just began to doze off when her door was suddenly yanked open and she was forcibly pulled out. Her head and shoulder cracked painfully on the asphalt before she was pulled to her feet and held against something broad, causing her arms to be pinned against her side. She was still trying to shake the feeling of nausea and clear her vision when she heard Tristin scream from somewhere. Tristin too had been yanked from the car and held against someone, making it near impossible to move. Hannah struggled against her holder, but that only earned her a knife pressed against her throat.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a man said, drawing both Hannah and Tristin's attention. Three men were standing between them, not including the two holding them. The one who had spoken was holding a rifle in one hand and the other lay on top of the blade that hung on his waist, as if warning them that if they tried to escape that he will use it to kill them. "It has been awhile since we've meet other people. If you cooperate, I promise that you won't get hurt. Too badly. Now tell me girls, are you out here all alone?"

"Fuck you!" Tristin lashed out, stuggling even harder to get free from the man holding her. If she could just get free, she can lunge for the car and grab her shotgun before any of them knew what was happening.

"That isn't a nice way to great someone, you know that girlie?" the man said, turning his attention to Tristin. Hannah felt her heart speed up and she knew that she had to find some way to get his attention away from the teenager.

"Yeah, she has a hard time welcoming people the right way. Hell, she shot at me when we first meet," Hannah tried, speaking up. The man only looked at her briefly before turning back towards Tristin. Hannah quickly tried again: "Nearly took off my damn head, the girl did. With a little practice, she can be a good shot, but never as good as me."

The man ignored Hannah again and took a step closer to Tristin. He took out his hunting knife and pressed it to her cheek hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. "I don't much appreciate rudeness, especially from a brat like you, but I'll give you one more chance. Now, apologize to me."

Tristin, without any hesitation, spit on the man's face and said, "Fuck. You."

The man calmly wiped her spit from his face, but Hannah noticed his jaw clench and she knew what was going to happen next. The man brought his hand back and slapped Tristin so hard across the face that her head snapped to the side and the sound echoed all around them. "I gave you one chance, you dumbass girl, and you wasted it. I warned you and you ignored it. I tried to be nice, but you just wouldn't have it. Now I really will kill you."

When Hannah saw the fine red of the blood trickle down Tristin's chin and the man press his knife hard against her throat, her heart nearly stopped. She lurched hard against her holder and screamed, "Tristin!"

Meanwhile, Tristin had her eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain of the knife cutting her skin, but she heard a _whish_ of wind and opened her eyes. The man standing in front of her know had an arrow lodged into his temple. He stared wide eyed at Tristin before finally toppling backwards, dead. Next thing she knew, the man behind her loosened his grasp on her slightly, just enough for her to slip away. She swung her leg back and kicked the man between the legs before diving into the car for her hatchet. A hand grabbed her foot and yanked her hard out of the car, but she twisted her body and brought her hatchet down on the hand of the man who had grabbed her. The man screamed in pain and fell backwards, Tristin instantly on him and bringing her hatchet down on his head.

The man who was still holding Hannah suddenly screamed in pain also and let go of her. She spun around and saw he was laying on the ground, clutching his leg, which had an arrow sticking out of it. She quickly dove to grab her machete and used it to cut down the man on the ground, being careful to aim for the head. Now that that was done with, Hannah was ready to kill one of the two remaining men, but she was surprised at what she saw when she turned her attention to them. One was already dead, his head hacked off, and the other was currently trying to get away from a blonde haired woman. As soon as the man made a wrong move, the woman took her chance and swung her axe at him, catching him in the chest and creating a large gash, in which blood spurted out and onto the woman. The man fell backwards and twitched a few times on the ground before finally going completly still.

"Damn, that was pretty fun, wasn't it?" the mystery woman said, pushing her blonde hair away from her face with a bloody hand. She ended up creating a red streak in her hair, but she didn't seem to notice. She turned her attention to Hannah and Tristin and smiled at them, the light shining off the shaved side of her head. "Hi, I'm Becca."

The two girls stared at Becca in shock before Hannah finally said, "Yeah, um, I'm Hannah and this is Tristin."

"NIce to meet you, Hannah and Tristin," Becca said as she walked over the the man with the arrow sticking out of his head and yanked it out of him before wiping the blood on his jacket. "Are the two of you okay?"

"Yeah, we are, thanks to you," Tristin said, still staring at her. "Really, thanks for saving us."

"Don't mention it, I just really hate people like that, acting like they're better than everyone else. Can't stand 'em," Becca said, putting the arrow back in the quiver and adjusting the combat bow that hung from her arm. Hannah suddenly remembered the arrow that was still in the other man and quickly went to retrieve it. When she held it out to Becca though, Becca just stared at it in confusion. "That's not mine."

"Wait, if it isn't yours, than whose is it?" Hannah question, staring down at the arrow.

"Who knows, but I would hold onto it if I were you. It may come in handy later," Becca said. "Anyways, I was just wondering, since I don't have a group and it's obvious that neither do you two, if I would join you. Safety in numbers and all that shit, right?"

Tristin looked at Hannah and shrugged. "Sure, as long as you don't try to kill us or steal from us."

"I won't, cross my heart and hope to die," Becca said, making the gesture of tracing an 'X' over her heart.

"Okay, but we need to go, like now. Walkers are starting to show up," Tristin said. Sure enough, walkers had started to appear in the woods around them. "I'll drive, since Hannah looks like she can barely stand up straight right now."

Hannah gave her a nod of thanks and climbed into the passanger seat as Becca crawled into the back. Tristin started the car and soon they were off. The arrow was still clutched in Hannah's hand and she gave it one last look before carefully tucking it in a pocket on the outside of her backpack. She relaxed in her seat and let her eyes drift shut, and soon she was finaly getting her much needed sleep.

Little did the three girls know that, just down the road from behind them, sat a man, straddling a black motorcycle, a crossbow hanging lazily from his arms. He watched the car drive further away from him. The moans of the walkers that were drawing nearer caught his attention and he slung his bow back securely back onto his back. Starting the cycle up, he turned it around with ease and headed back towards the prision.

His missing arrow was the only thing on his mind. He really couldn't afford to wast them, especially now. But now, with just his luck, he was down one becuase he decided to help some people he didn't even know.

That's just fucking great.


	3. Chapter 3

**So, finally chapter 3. Some Walking Dead characters finally make their apperance! This takes place after The Governors first attack, but before his second, by the way.**

**Reveiws are appreciated.**

Chapter 3

"Where the hell are we?" Becca asked as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead for the hundredths time, using her shirt. The three girls were stranded on the side of a road, their car just running out of gas. They had managed to ration the 3/4 full tank of gas, and it was just their luck that it had decided to run out on a road with no other cars in sight.

"How should I know? I'm not from around here," Tristin said, stuffing her shirt into her bag. None of the girls were used to this heat at this time of the year, seeing how they were all natives of Minnesota, and they had now only their jeans (shorts in Tristin's case) and tank tops on.

"Well, we don't have a drop of gas left," Hannah said, emerging from beneath the hood of the car. She too wiped a layer of sweat off of her face with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of grease in its place. "There was that small neighborhood that we passed a few miles back. If we can get there, there might still be a car in one of the garages or something. But if we do, we have to leave now before it gets too dark."

The three girls gathered their supplies and took off back down the road, heading back the way that they had just come from. Luckily there weren't many walkers on the road and those that were were quickly disbanded. The sun had begun to set and it wasn't long before the girls were plummeded into darkness. Along with night, came rain. It started out as a sprinkle, but quickly progressed into a down pour, which just pissed the girls off even more. Becca had brought out her flashlight, opting to only use one so they won't wast the batterys, and waved it around the road. The light caught the raindrops as they fell. The night animals slowly came out to play, and if any of the girls would look up, the occasional bat or owl would be seen. But along with the animals came the nervousness and feeling of dread that accompanied the night. Even without doing anything, all three of the hearts speed up.

Finally, the outline of the few houses came into veiw and Tristin picked up her pace without even knowing it and quickly passed Becca and the beam of the flashlight. Hannah looked at Becca and rolled her eyes before running to join Tristin, Becca and the flashlight right behind her. They ignored the first house, seeing out it had half of it missing. What happened, the girls don't know, and don't want to know. The next house, or where it should have been, was occupied by the charred foundation and pieces of burnt wood that was once the house. The third house looked the most liveable. After making a quick run around the house to see if there were any broken windows or holes in the house, Becca joined Tristin and Hannah on the porch of the house. They each had their melee weapons out, making at attempt to be somewhat quiet. The last thing they needed was to ring a dinner bell for any close herds.

"Third time's the charm," Hannah said and gently pushed against the door. It gave easily and swung inwards, stopping inches from hitting the wall. Becca passed the flashlight up to her and she swept it across the front room of the house. Other than a few overturned chairs and a smashed television, nothing seemed horribly out of place or dangerous. Stepping carefully into the house, Hannah gestured for one of the other girls to go up the stairs and take a look around up there. Tristin quickly took out her flashlight and headed up the white carpeted stairs, disappearing onto the top floor. Hannah passed the flashlight back to Becca and said, "I'll go see if there's a basement. You keep looking around up here."

Becca nodded and cautiously walked into another room. Hannah pulled out her own flashlight and switched it on before walking to the back of the house. Out of habit, she checked a few of the doors in the kitchen, but none of them lead to a basement. She finally managed to find the basement door in one of the hallways. She opened it and looked at the wooden stairs that lead into a dark abyss. The machete was clutched tighter in her hand as she descended the stairs. At first, all Hannah saw were some wooden shelves with canned things on it, but when she got passed the first few rows of them, a door came into veiw. Hannah cautiously walked over to the metal door and stopped right outside of it. She shone her flashlight onto the door and around it. A rather large circle of dried blood had come from under the door and a bloodied child's toy lay to the side of it. Hannah shuttered, a feeling of unease washed over her as she thought of the worst possible situation. She finally took a deep, shakey breath before reaching out and grasping the door knob in her hand. The knob twisted surprisingly easy and the door swung inwards, revealing a dark room. Hannah shone her flashlight in before stepping over the threshold into the room. The pool of dried blood had grown and gave away to a few bloodied sleeping bags, empty cans, and other camping supplies. Someone had decided to stay holed up here, maybe hoping that they could wait out the fucking apocalyps, but it obviously didn't work out according to plan.

As Hannah walked further into the room, the chaos grew. Things that had been set up now lay scewed across the ground and the remains of a sleeping bag lay everywhere. A baby's carseat was overturned and baby toys lay broken around it. When Hannah took another step fowards, she kicked something with her steel-toed boot and she looked down. The skull that she had kicked had broken around the eyesocket, leaving a pile of broken, dirty bone. Scraps of fabric covered the body, and judging by the still white pearl necklace around its boney neck, Hannah could only guess that the corpse belonged to the mother of this house. The next body had a hole through the skull, and from the band name that was still visable on the remains of the shirt that it was wearing, that body was once possibly a teenage boy or girl. A noise suddenly caught Hannah's attention and she pointed the flashlight at the back corner of the room. Sitting there, proped up against the wall, was a walker. It was thin, almost nothing but bone, and it was amazing that it was still alive, if that's what you want to call these things. It struggled to turn its head, the tendons almost completly gone, and slowly gnashed its teeth at her. It struggled to raise its arms towards her, but nothing would move. Hannah walked closer to the weak walker and bent down in front of it. The walker was small, obviously a child, which tugged at something in Hannah's heart. The picture on the front of its bloodstained shirt was some sort of cartoon character, one that Hannah wasn't familiar with. There was almost nothing left of the child's once blonde hair.

"I'm sorry that this had to happen to you," Hannah said quietly to the walker, and reached out to run a hand over its head. The walker only tried to bite her, but failed miserably at it. Hannah stood and pressed the very front of her machete to the center of its forehead. She closed her eyes and turned away as she thrusted the blade into its forehead. The walker stopped making that aweful noise and the room was finally silent. Hannah pulled the machete back out without looking at the walker and turned to head out of the room, but as she turned, something else caught her attention. Clutched in the bone fingers of yet another body, was a picture. Hannah knelt down and carefully pulled the picture out of its grasp. Hannah pointed the flashlight at the picture and stared at it. A happy family smiled back at her. The people in the picture looked like they were at some sort of pool party, and they all looked happy. A woman with a pearl necklace, who Hannah assumed was the woman in here, was sitting in a lawn chair, a baby resting in her hands. Behind her was a man, his hands wrapped around the woman. A teenage boy was standing off to the side, shirtless and smiling, his wet hair plastered to his face. Finally, standing between the boy and the woman, was a little girl. She had vibrant blonde hair and was wearing the same shirt as the walker Hannah had killed in this room. Hannah bit the inside of her cheek and stood up, carefully putting the picture in her pocket. She may not have known these people, but someone had to remember them.

She just didn't want to think about what happened to the baby in the picture and didn't stay around long enough to make yet another horrible discovery.

##############################

Hannah meet Tristin and Becca back up in the living room on the second floor. Becca saw her and said, "I didn't find any walkers on this floor and Tristin said there weren't any on the second floor either. What was in the basement?"

"Nothing, only some canned things. We'll go check to see if any of it is eatable in the morning. Now, the smart thing to do it get out of these wet clothes, eat, and sleep," Hannah said, righting one of the chairs and sitting in it.

"I found some candles in the kitchen, so let's put them out for some light," Becca said, taking the said candles out of her pocket. The girls busied themselves with setting up the candles around the room and lighting them. Now that they had light, they could put away their flashlights and change out of their wet clothes. Hannah and Becca were quick on that, eager to wear dry clothes again, but Tristin made no move to change, instead focusing all her attention onto the can of beans she had just opened.

"Don't you want to change?" Becca asked as she sat down on the couch and catching a can of pears that Hannah had tossed to her.

"I'll be fine, I just want to eat. I'll change after I'm done," Tristin said, and Becca just shrugged her shoulders, her empty stomach grabbing her attention also. As it would turn out, Tristin never did change. As soon as she was done eating, she layed back on the ground and promptly fell asleep. Hannah and Tristin also finished their meals and wanted to go to sleep. They blew out all the candles except for two, which they used to find bedrooms. Becca found the master bedroom, with a large bed and everything. Hannah found a door with a keep out sign on it and went inside. The room was messy, with clothes still scattered around the floor and on the furniture. Hannah knew that she had found the teenage boy's room. She made her way over to the bed and shoved the clothes that were on it down onto the ground before taking her weapons off and setting them on the bedside table. She lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Sighing, she turned over to face the wall and closed her eyes.

#######################################

Hannah woke up the next morning and ventured down stairs. When she was halfway down the stairs, she heard a rather loud cough from the living room and walked into the room to see Tristin on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Becca was sitting on the floor, a miniature fire in front of her with a can of soup heating over it.

"What happened?" Hannah asked, looked from Tristin to Becca.

"This dumbass got sick from not changing her clothes. She has a cold and a really bad fever," Becca said, jerking her thumb in Tristin's direction. Tristin opened her eyes a sliver and smiled at Hannah, shrugging her shoulders slightly, like saying 'Whatcha gonna do'. Hannah rolled her eyes and looked back at Becca, who said, "With her like this, there's no way we can move anytime soon."

"Do we have any medicine for her?" Hannah asked, but Becca shook her head. "Alright, I'll eat quickly and go to that town up the road. I think I saw a pharmacy there when we passed through it."

"Do you need a car?" Becca asked. "I can go look to see if there's one in the garage quickly if you want to look after Tristin for a minute."

Now it was Hannah's turn to shake her head. "No, that won't be necessary. I don't want to risk drawing the attention of walkers here, especially when one of us is sick. I'll be just fine walking. It's still early and the town isn't very far."

"Okay, but take this," Becca said, tossing a walkie talkie to Hannah. "I found it the kitchen and thought that it would be of use. I'll call you if Tristin's condition gets any worse."

Hannah nodded and clipped the walkie talkie to her belt. After a quick breakfast, which consisted of canned corn (which was probably one of the worst tasting things ever, considering that she was used to garden corn), she was off. Tristin had given Hannah her shotgun, just in case she needed it, and it was now strapped to her back, along with a small bag that was slung across her chest and rested on her hip. The walk to the town was relatively uneventful. There weren't many walkers and the day was nice, so that just made time go by faster. As she neared the town, though, the number of walkers increased and Hannah had to begin trying to sneak passed them. It worked for the most part, and she soon found the pharmacy. The glass store front was broken, but looking into the building showed a surprising amount of medicine. Hannah could only hope that they had stuff for Tristin. Hannah climbed through the broken display case, not wanting to risk the possibility of a bell ringing if she went through the door. Most of the boxes and medicine had been knocked off of the shelves, and it took Hannah awhile to find what Tristin needed. Once she had the box tucked safely in her bag, she went ahead and grabbed some more bandages, rubbing alcohol, and anything else that would be useful.

By the time her bag was full, it was late afternoon, which meant it was about time for Hannah to head back to the house. As she neared the front of the store, a noise from outside made her stop. Ducking behind a metal shelf, she looked cautiously out into the street. A car had pulled up outside the pharmacy and people stepped out of it, an asian boy, a woman with short brown hair, and a dark skinned woman with a katana. They were heading straight towards the pharmacy.

"Shit," Hannah swore. She knew that if she stayed where she was, the people would easily see her as soon as they walked through the door, and there was no way that she would be able to make a run for the door. So the only option was to hide behind the counter. Hannah made a quick dash for it and she had gotten safely behind it as soon as she heard the door open. Hannah bit the inside of her cheek to quiet her breathing and wrapped her fingers around her revolver, pulling it out of its holster.

Hannah could hear the people shuffle not so quietly around the pharmacy. They were picking up things and talking to each other. The girl with brown hair, who the asian boy called Maggie, was happy that they found baby formula for someone named Judith. The asian boy was also saying something about how this medicine will help them out a lot and make some guy named Hershel's job a lot easier. After about ten minutes, Hannah finally decided to take a risk and poke her head around the counter. The asian boy and Maggie were still picking through the medicine, and the woman with the katana was standing by the door. There was no way that Hannah could leave yet, so she just had to wait until they left. Hannah turned back around and stretched her legs, accidently knocking over a can with her foot. She went stiff and stopped breathing. The people in the store had also stopped moving and Hannah looked out at them again to see that they had stopped what they were doing to listen closer. Maggie slowly made her way to the counter and Hannah swore silently again and tightened her grip on her pistol.

"We know you're there, so just come out and we won't hurt you," Maggie said in her slow country drawl. Hannah held her breath and didn't move. "I said come out, now. There's no way that you can escape, so it would just be easier if you do what we say."

Hannah knew that the was right, and if she wanted any chance of getting back to Tristin and Becca, she would have to listen. With the revolver still in her hand, Hannah slowly stood up. Maggie and the asian boy both had their guns trailed on Hannah, who had her gun pointed at Maggie. Hannah's eyes darted between all three people, not daring to take her eyes off of any of them for too long.

"Put your weapons down and come out from behind the counter," the asian boy ordered, his gun not wavering. The boy didn't look any older than Hannah herself and didn't look like a killer, but looks can be deciving, especially nowadays, so Hannah did as she was told. She carefully set her revolver, machete, pipe, and Tristin's shotgun on the counter and stepped out from behind it, her arms raised in the air. The boy looked back at Maggie and the other woman and asked, "What do you think we should do now?"

"Make sure she isn't dangerous, see what she had, then leave," the other woman said. "If she tries anything, we'll kill her."

"I agree with Michonne. She heard everything that we said, and we can't afford another attack, not now," Maggie said. She turned her attention back to Hannah and said, "Are you part of a group? Are they close by?"

Hannah stayed silent, refusing to answer her, so the boy tired: "Where are you camping out? Do you have children with you?"

Hannah still didn't answer, even to the other question that they asked. Their patience had worn thin and Michonne finally said, "It's obvious that she won't talk to us, so I say we just kill her, make sure that she can't tell her group about us."

The boy looked like he was about to respond, but a noise cut him off. The walkie talkie on Hannah's hip made a noise and Becca's voice came through, saying, "Hannah, where the hell are you? Tristin is getting worse and she really needs that medicine. Hurry up and get back here."

Hannah looked at the people in front of her before cautiously moving her hand down to the walkie talkie and unclipping it. When no one tried to stop her, she raised it to her face, pressed the button, and said, "Hey, it's me. Sorry that it's taking so long, I got a little caught up, but I'll be back soon, just keep Tristin's temperature down until then."

"Was that someone from your group?" Maggie asked when Hannah clipped the walkie talkie back in its place.

"Yeah, and as you heard, I have to go. One of them really needs this medicine," Hannah said, raising her hands again.

"How do we know you won't go back and tell them about us?" the boy said.

"One, I have no idea where this prision is that you were talking about, and two, I don't think three girls can take it over from you," Hannah said. When she saw the look of doubt on their faces, she just shrugged. "You can come with me if you want, but make up your minds, cause I need to leave."

"Give us a minute," the boy said and he took the two girls away from Hannah to talk. As they were talking, Hannah went back to pick up her weapons and secure them back where they went. The three people came back over to her and the boy said, "We'll come with you, but you have to promise that you won't try anything."

"Yeah, fine, but let's go now," Hannah said. She followed the people out to their car and climbed into the back seat with Michonne, who didn't look all to happy about it. Hannah gave them quick directions to where to go and the boy took off that way.

"I'm Maggie, by the way," Maggie said, turning around in the passenger seat to look back at Hannah. "This is Glenn and that's Michonne."

"Hannah," Hannah replied. "The sick one is Tristin and the other one is Becca. She's kind of hot headed, so don't let her get to you."

Maggie smiled and turned back around. They eventually got back to the house and Hannah was out of the car even before it had stopped. She pratically ran up the steps to the house, Maggie, Michonne, and Glenn right behind her. They bursted into the living room and Hannah quickly went over to Tristin and pulled out the medicine. Becca was surprised to see the three extra people and she pulled her gun out, pointing it at them.

"Hannah, who are these people?" Becca asked, not taking her eyes off of them.

"That's Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne. Don't worry, they're okay," Hannah said as she gave Tristin the medicine. As soon as Tristin swallowed it, though, she bent over the side of the couch and vomited it violently up onto the floor. "Shit, why isn't this working?"

"Here, let me take a look. My dad was a vet and I happened to pick up a few things," Maggie said. Hannah moved away to let Maggie take a look at Tristin and after a few minutes, she backed away. "She's really sick. She has a cold, fever, and something else that I don't know, which would probably explain the vomiting. Do either of you know anything about medicine?"

Both girls shook their heads and Maggie said, "Okay, that's fine. We'll take you back to the prison and have my father and our other doctor take a look at her. Maybe either of them knows what's wrong with her."

"Maggie, do you really think it's a good idea to take them back with us?" Glenn asked, sounding unsure.

"We can't just leave them here with a sick person. Besides, we can blindfold them so they won't know how to get to the prison," Maggie said, begging Glenn. Glenn finally caved and agreed. Michonne wasn't happy about taking them with, but she nodded anyways. Maggie smiled and turned back to the three girls. "Well, looks like your coming home with us."

**Sorry about the kinda bad ending, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it. Anyways, hope you all liked it. Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, first of all I must apologize to the few people who may or may not read this story that it was awhile since the last update. I've just been having a writers block and my brother has been hogging the computer, so I couldn't use it**

**Anyways, I think that's the end of this little authors note, so please enjoy.**

Chapter 4

The ride to the prison was mostly silent. Maggie and Glenn had tried to make conversation with Hannah and Becca, asking them questions about their lives before the dead and what not, but neither girl responded to them. As far as they were concerned, their lives had nothing to do with the stangers that had picked them up, so Maggie and Glenn eventually gave up. It was a rather tight fit, getting six people in a car that was meant for only five, and Becca and Hannah had ended up squeezing into the backseat with Michonne, Tristin tucked across their laps. As they drove towards the prison, Hannah watched out the window while Becca listened closely to the conversation between Maggie and Glenn, catching certain names at times.

When they got to a junction, Maggie turned around and held out strips of cloth to be used as blindfolds. "Sorry about the blindfolds, but we just can't risk the possibility of another attack."

"Don't worry about it, we get it," Hannah said as she grabbed the cloth. She tied one around Tristin's head, over her eyes, then did the same to herself, making it impossible to see. Her other senses went on high alert after her eyesight was taken. She heard Becca next to her tying her blindfold on, but not without a flurry of colorful language to go alond with the action. Once their eyes were covered, Glenn started the car again and they continued towards the prison. Hannah and Becca heard someone say 'Open the gate' and the sound of a metal gate being opened floated through the open window of the car, which stopped a few moments later. Everyone piled out, helping the three girls, who had taken their blindfolds off when they exited the car. Tristin was drapped between Becca and Hannah, still unconcious.

"Come on, let's go find Herschel so he can take a look at your friend," Glenn said, gesturing for them to follow him and Maggie as Michonne got the medicine from the trunk of the car. The small group entered the prison and into a cell block. Hannah looked around and couldn't help but feel dwery from the interior of it.

"You guys really live here?" Becca asked, staring at the bland walls and tables. "It's, uh, very nice, I guess."

"Who are those people?" a femal voice asked, coming from the room with the cels. They turned to see a blonde haired teenager, looking to be around Tristin's age, with a baby girl in her arms. She joinded the small group and looked at the three new people, eyes resting on Tristin. "What's wrong with her?"

"Do you have any idea where Dad is, Beth?" Maggie asked the blonde girl, Beth. "We need him to take a look Tristin."

Beth looked at them a bit more, but finally said, "Yeah, I'll take her to him, just let me go put Judy down first."

Michonne had joined them again, now carrying the girls' bags, but their weapons were nowhere in sight. Becca watched as Michonne put their bags on a table and she said, "Hey, where are our weapons?'

"We'll be keeping your weapons until we know that none of you are any threat to us, then you'll get them back. Or until Tristin is well enough to leave," Glenn said. "But don't worry, you'll get them all back."

Becca huffed again and Hannah just nodded. A noise drew their attention back to the cells and they saw Beth walking out, followed by a stick thin woman with short hair, who introduced herself as Carol. After a few minutes of trying to convince Becca and Hannah that Tristin will be safe in their hands, they finally handed her over to them. Carol promised them that she will be in good hands and, with the help of Beth, took Tristin to the man Herschel. Hannah and Becca then followed Glenn outside to where someone named Rick was told to be, by the outer fences.

"Hey Rick!" Glenn suddenly called once they were halfway down to the outer most fence. Both girls turned their attention to the figures that were making their way up the road towards them. Two men stopped in front of them, one with dark slicked back hair and the other with a crossbow flung over his shoulder.

"How did the supply run go?" the man with the slicked back hair, Rick, asked. His eyes settled on the two girls behind Glenn and his hand went to rest lazily on the Colt Python that was hanging from his hip. Both Hannah and Becca noticed the movement and were now watching Rick warily. "Who are they?"

"We only got the chance to get some medicine, but nothing else. After we fuel up again, we're planning on going back out to get the other things we needed," Glenn said. "We found these two and their friend in a house not far from the pharmacy, and brought them back so Herschel can take a look at their friend, who's sick."

"Wha' ta hell were yah thinkin', Glenn?" the redneck with the crossbow said angrily. Hannah noted how heavy his accent was compared to the others. "We don' know nothin' bout them. As far as we know. they could be fuckin' murderers or another Govenor."

"Hey, we ain't fucking murderers or whatever a 'Governor' is, okay?" Hannah snapped with equal amount of anger at the redneck, then turned to look at Rick. "Please, all we are asking for is to stay until Tristin is healthy enought to move again, then we'll leave. Won't ask you for anything and won't cause any problems. That's all we're asking for."

Rick was silent, pondering what the brown and blonde haired girl had said. The redneck noticed RIck thinking and said, "Yah can't really be thinkin' bout lettin' them stay. We outta jus' kick 'em out now 'fore they cause any trouble or get any of us killed."

"They don't seem very dangerous, Daryl, especially since they don't have any weapons. If we let you three stay, do you agree to listen to and obay our rules, not to harm anyone, and help out around here while you stay?" RIck asked the tw girls, who both nodded. "Well, now all I have to do know is ask you three questions."

"Questions?" Becca asked, sounding mildly confused.

"Yeah, they're only to determine if you are fit to stay or not. So, will you agree to answer each question honestly?" Rick asked and the girls nodded again. "Okay, first question: How many walkers have you each killed?"

"A far amount," Hannah said, and Rick nodded, turning to Becca.

"I never really counted, but a lot, I'm sure," Becca said.

"Okay, second question: How many people have you killed since this all started?" Rick asked, and he noted how both of the girls hesitated before either of them answered.

"Maybe about ten," Becca finally answered first.

"Enough," Hannah said, then kept quiet after that. Rick looked at both girls, then at Glenn and Daryl before slowly nodding.

"Third question: Why?"

"I did it to survive, and never just for fun," Hannah said, her tone monotone.

"So did I," Becca said, looking at Hannah from the corner of her eye.

"What about your sick friend?" Rick asked.

Becca shrugged. "How are we supposed to know? We all only meet less than a week ago."

RIck, Daryl, and Glenn all looked suprised at what she just said. Daryl finally said, "The three of yah jus' meet each 'ther and yah trust one 'nother?"

"Yeah, it's not like we had a choice. Safety in numbers and the three of us were all by ourselves before, so we just figured that we would have better luck together," Hannah said. "None of us had tried to kill any of the others yet either, so I figure that we all trust each other enough to make it work."

"What are your names?" Rick asked next.

"I'm Hannah and this is Becca. The sick one is Tristin," Hannah said.

Rick looked between the two of them, then finally said, "Alright, the two of you go back up the prison and change, then come back down here so you can get to work."

Becca and Hannah quickly headed back up to the prison. They found their things still on the table where Michonne had left them and found a pair of clothes. After asking where the bathroom was, they changed into their fresh (well, fresher than what they were just wearing anyways) clothes, they headed back outside. They found Rick and Glenn down by the gardern, and they both looked up when they heard the girls approach. Rick noticed that both of them were already sweating again by the time that they joinded him and Glenn.

"The two of you will be helping me with the garden while Glenn goes to take care of your animals," RIck said, resting against the rake he was using. "I can assume that the two of you know how to garden."

"Yeah, both my grandparents had gardens and I helped them out with theirs," Hannah said.

"I'm actually better with working with animals than gardening. I used to work on a few farms when I was younger," Becca said, casting a glance towards the small farm.

"I guess you can go with Glenn to help him out with the animals. Hannah'll stay here with me," RIck said, and Becca and Glenn walked away, heading towards the animals. Rick turned to look back at Hannah. "I'll show you what I want you to do."

Hannah nodded and listened to what Rick wanted her to do. When he was done, the two of them went their seperate ways, each on one side of the garded. They worked in silence, which was perfect for both of them: Rick liked to work in silence and Hannah didn't like to talk. They were an hour into the work and the midday sun was high in the sky and beat down on their backs. Hannah had tied her hair back in a ponytail, hoping to cool herself off, but it didn't help very much. Dirt caked her hands and knees and chunks would get caught in the folds of her cloths if she wasn't careful of where she threw the dirt she was digging up with her trowel. Footsteps suddenly thumped against the ground towards them and both Rick and Hannah looked up. Standing on the edge of the garden was a boy that looked like he was in his early teens.

"Hey Dad, I'm going with Maggie, Tyreese, and Sasha to go on another supply run," the boy said, staring at Rick.

"Didn't they just get back from a run?" Rick asked, stopping what he was doing and leaning against the rake so he could watch the boy.

"Yeah they did, but since they found them," the boy said, jerking his thumb in Hannah's direction, "and brought them back here, the only thing they were able to get was a little medicine. We still need formula for Judith and as many other supplies as we can get."

"Okay, but just be careful, and watch the other's backs," Rick said.

"Yeah, whatever," the boy said and quickly turned and ran back up to the prison, probably to make sure the others didn't leave without him. Hannah and Rick watched him go. When the car passed them to leave the prison, Rick waved goodbye.

"I'm guessing that he's your son," Hannah said, turning her gaze to Rick, who had went back to his work.

"Yeah, he is. His name's Carl," Rick responded. "They baby, Judith, is also mine."

"What happened to their mother?" Hannah asked out of curiosity, but regretted it almost instantly when she saw Rick's face. His calm face twisted into one of sadness and he didn't look up from the ground as he replied.

"She died shortly after we got here, died in childbirth," he said, raking the ground slowly.

"Oh," Hannah said, not knowing what to say now. Awkawrd silence filled the space between them. Hannah finally got feed up with the silence and said, "So, Carl seems like a pleasent kid."

Rick laughed and nodded. "Well, he had his moments. Shoulda seen him at the beginning of this, or at least from when I met back up with him. He followed my old friend around everywhere, innocent as could be. Now he's following Daryl around, wanting to hunting with him and check the snares in the forest, but Daryl always says no."

"Well, kids to have to have someone to obssess over, even if it isn't their father," Hannah said, smiling.

"Yeah, well I guess you're right."

"Wait, did you say that you weren't with your family when the world went to hell?"

"No, I was actually in the hospital, in a coma," Rick said. "I got shot a few days earlier on my job, and woke up to dead people walking around. I only found them a couple days later with the help of some others."

"Well, at least you found your family again and got yourself a pretty good group," she said.

"Yeah. What about you? What were you doing when, as you put it, 'the world went to hell'?"

"I was, um," Hannah stumbled over her words, trying to find something to say, "I guess I was doing what normal people to when they're on vacation."

"I should have known that you weren't native from Georgia," Rick said, taking another mental note about her hesitation before answering his question. "Who were you here with?"

"Just some friends. None of them made it the first night," Hannah said, her face darkening as she remembered that fateful night. "Too much chaos."

"What about your family? Did you have any kids or anything?" Rick asked and Hannah laughed out loud.

"No, I didn't have any family and certainly no kids before all of this," she said. "And I never want any."

"Kids?" Rick asked and Hannah nodded. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "I've just never been very good with them or liked them very much. I am perfectly happy without any."

Rick nodded and, without anything else to say, the two kept silent. Hannah looked up towards the fence and the walkers, noticing one in particular. It looked like it was once a woman, probably once high up in some company's chain, judging by the stained remains of her buisness suit. Her fingers, which were no more than yellowy bones with strings of black, rotten muscle draped over them, where grabbing at the fence, shaking it and gnashing her exposed teeth (Hannah figured that her lips were probably chomped off by some walker) gnashed at her. The group of walkers behind her pushed harder against her, pressing her further against the fence and making the fence groan with the weight. Hannah watched them for a few more minutes before turing her attention back to the gardening that she was working on.

"Rick!" someone called out and both of them looked up towards the prison, seeing Carol standing just outside the fence. "Lunch is ready, so bring everyone up."

"Okay," Rick called back up and looked over at Hannah. "You finish this little spot up and I'll go get Glenn and Becca. Just come up when you're done."

Hannah nodded and watch Rick lay his rake down and walk away to find the other two. Hannah turned back to her work and concentrated on it for a while before the sun made it too hard to do even that. The heat kept making her mind wander and distracting her from doing what she was actually supposed to be doing. Finally, after ten minutes of getting almost nowhere, Hannah finally sighed, set her trowel down, and went to lay on the grass by the garden, near the rake that Rick had been using. Putting her arms behind her head, Hannah relaxed and closed her eyes, basking in the sun. Her mind began to wander again, thinking of people and places suspended in time long before the dead walked the earth. Her mind was calm, the feeling of bliss washing over her.

But, like everything else in this god damn world, that bliss came to a screeching spine tingling, skull rattling, stop.

The sound of metal clanging together wrenched Hannah from her thoughts and she opened her eyes just in time to see the fence that had been slowly pilling with walkers since the early morning finally folded inwards, succumbing to the weight of the dead bodies that were pressed against it. The metal of the fence had torn on one side, letting the walkers scramble over each other to try and get into the yard. Hannah scrambled to her feet and instinctively reached for the knife that she usually kept tucked in her steel toed combat boot, but swore when she remembered that she had given it to Glenn and Maggie in the pharmacy. So there she was, watching walkers pile over each other just yards from her. She desprately looked up at the prison to see if anyone had noticed what was happening, but it looked like to had, and probably won't for awhile, which left Hannah alone. With no help. No weapon. Against a horde of walkers. Left with no other choice, Hannah did the next best thing: look for a weapon.

The rake that Rick had been using was the closest thing to her and she stooped down to pick it up. Holding it like a baseball bat, Hannah swung the rake at the head of the closest walker, which was ironically the business woman. The prongs of the rake buried into her head and, bracing one foot behind the other and moving a hand further up on the rake, yanked it out. The rake immediantly dug into the head of the walker behind that one, killing it. Hannah pulled the rake from the walker, causing it to slump to the ground. Fingers grazed Hannah's arm and she spun on her heels, swinging the rake at the walker that had tried to grab her. More dead were stumbling into the yard through the fence and were getting ever to closer to her. Hannah tried to pull the rake from the dead walker, but it was stuck firmly in the rotten head. Swearing, Hannah let the rake go and turned to find another weapon.

Her heart suddenly stopped when she felt the ground disappear from beneath her feet. Her back met the ground with a painful thump, making her eye sight go fuzzy. Something heavy suddenly fell on top of her, knocking her breath out of her lungs and making her yelp in pain as her right arm got caught between her and whatever had fallen on top of her. Hannah could have sworn that she heard a snap. Something else quickly followed the first thing, then one more after that. The sound of teeth snapping together and the feeling of fingers wrapping around her arms hard enough to bruise finally made her open her eyes, which she regretted almost immediantly. The sun made her head hurt even more and the decaying faces of three walkers that had fallen on her didn't help either.

Using her left arm, she managed to push the walkers up just far enough for her to slip her right arm out from between them. The movement made her yelp again as she confirmed that something was wrong in her arm. The walkers pushed back against her, getting way to close for comfort. Reaching out desperately with her right arm, she searched for another weapon. Her breath came out in ragged puffs as her fingers wrapped around the handle of the trowel that she had been using. Gripping it tightly, she catipulted it up into the side of the head of the closest walker. Hannah bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed trying to hold in her scream of pain again. Blood pooled onto her chest as she pulled the trowel from the walkers head and plummeted into the head of the second walker. She hit the mark with that one too and finally went to kill the last walker that was on top of her. Given the odd angle, Hannah ended up jabbing the trowel into the walker's jaw, breaking it and knocking it to the side. Trying again, she finally managed to dig it into the walker's eye socket, killing it. She let her right arm fall and let out a sigh of relief, relaxing for only a moment before getting to work trying to push the dead walkers off of her. Hannah could only use her left arm and finally managed to push them off of her and was about to get up when three more walkers pilled on top of her. Hannah scrambled to try and more out of the way, but she was too slow. Hannah instinctively put her right arm out between her and the walkers, but it crumpled, sending the walkers tumbling down on her again. With no weapons, she was truelly defensless.

She was ready to just give up when a miricale wearing a vest with angel wings saved her.

A bolt suddenly hit the nearest walker that was on top of her in the temple, killing it and snapping Hannah out of her daze. Gripping the bolt near the feathers, Hannah yanked it out and plunged it into the head of the second walker. The third walker was unreachable, given the way the other two were on her. That walker, though, suddenly stopped moving as a hunting knife was stabbed through the back of its skull. The pressure left Hannah's body as the person with the hunting knife pulled the three walkers off of her one by one. Arms wrapped around her arms where the walkers' had been, but a lot gentler, pulling her to her feet. Bile suddenly moved up her throat and before she knew it, she was vomiting on the ground. Her head hurt like hell, she felt like she was going to faint, and know her throat burned. Great.

When she was done vomiting, Hannah looked up at the person who had helped her. Daryl was staring back down at her, watching her carefully. He helped her stand up straighter, but she felt light headed and fell back, almost hitting the ground if Daryl wouldn't have caught her. Shaking her head to try and clear it, Hannah looked around. Rick, Becca, and a group of people from the prison had joined her and were now killing the walkers that had gotten into the yard. She noticed that no one had fixed the broken fence yet, letting more walkers in. Pulling out of Daryl's grasp, she ran towards the fence, stopping breifly to pick up some cable someone had brought down to fix the fence before continuing to the fence. Dodging the reaches of the walkers, she finally made it to the fence. A walker had just began to climb over the fence when she got there. Hannah kicked the walker in the face over and over again until it was nothing but bloody meat and she kicked the walker back outside the fence. Bending over, she grabbed the corner of the fence and pulled it up. The movement made her head hurt and right arm more, making her almost pass out, but she forced herself to hold out. Holding the fence where it was supposed ot be, Hannah tried to wrap the cable through the fence, but dropped it. Swearing, she tried to grab it, but the fence fell against her again. It was lifted off of her by someone and Hannah turned to see Daryl holding the fence where it was supposed to be.

"Wha' the hell are yah waitin' for? Hurry up!" Daryl commanded. Hannah nodded and did what she was told, getting the cable and wrapping it around the fence. Once it was secure, Daryl stepped away and Hannah sighed in relief once again. Her head hurt like hell, as did her arm, and she knew that she was going to faint.

Finally feeling like everyone at the prison was safe, Hannah finally let herself go, feeling her eyes slip shut and herself falling backwards. Something grabbed her and lifted her up.

The last thing that she remembered was hearing someone say, "God, yah really do have a death wish, don't yah."

**So I hope that was a good chapter. I personally don't know how I feel about it. I just hope that I got Daryl's accent somewhat right.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am so sorry for the delay, anyone who reads this! I know you probably don't want to hear excuses, but I'll tell you a few anyways. 1.) My brother had the computer most of the time again 2.) The computer decided to die and we literally just got a new one today. I think that's enough excuse for now. I hope everyone enjoys chapter 5. ^_^ Reviews would be appreciated to tell me how the story is.**

Chapter 5

Hannah's head hurt a bitch, and that wasn't an understatement. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to her head and didn't stop for hours. It reminded her of the hangovers that she would get after a long night of drinking with her friends back before the world went to shit. The thought of the world she lived before all of this snuck into her head and Hannah hoped that everything was a dream and when she woke up she would be back in her house with her friends all passed out around her. Hell, she would even be excited to see people that she hated.

But of course, as soon as he open her eyes, the hope disappeared, replaced by a mixture of anger and sadness.

Hannah squinted her eyes closer together, trying to see as little of the blinding light that filtered into the room as possible. She made a move to wipe her right hand over her face, but found that she couldn't move it. Instead she rolled over, trying to move to get off the bed, but she miscalculated where exactly on the bed she was. The ground came rushing towards her and she hit it, smacking her chest, left side, and head on the concrete floor. Groaning again and biting back a yelp of pain, Hannah attempted to push herself up off the ground but found that she couldn't move her right hand again. Finally opening her eyes all the way, she looked down and saw that her right arm was in a sling, holding it tightly in place against her chest. Hannah sighed and leaned back against the wall, using it to push herself back up to her feet. As soon as she managed to finally stand up all the way, a strong wave of nausea smack into her and she fell down, her knees hitting the floor with a painful crack. Bile rose up her throat from her stomach and she puked, vomit hitting the ground wetly. When there was nothing left I her stomach, she dry heaved for a few more minutes before it finally stopped. She leaned back against the wall and panted, sweat forming on her brow. Footsteps hurried up to her cell and Hannah looked up to see the blonde girl from before (Beth, Hannah remembered) standing in the doorway.

"You're awake! Are you okay?" Beth asked, concerned. She hurried into the cell, avoiding the vomit of the floor, and joined Hannah by the wall. Beth grabbed her unhurt arm and helped her to her feet and led her to the bed. Hannah sat down and rested her head in her left hand. Beth joined her on the bed. "How are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?"

"I feel like I just head-butted a semi-truck going thirty miles per hour," Hannah groaned, rubbing the sweat from her forehead. "What the hell happened to me?"

"You got knocked down outside when the walkers got through the fence and hit your head on a rock pretty hard. My dad said that you probably got a pretty bad concussion," Beth said. "You also fractured your right arm, which is why it's in a sling. Don't worry though, it should heal in a couple months."

"Fuck!" Hannah swore loudly, hitting the thin mattress with her left arm in frustration. "I promised Rich that I would pull my own weight around here while we stay here. What the hell am I supposed to do know? I'm totally fucking useless now."

"Rick is downstairs. If you're willing, I'll help you down and you can talk with Rick about what you can do now. There's got to be something," Beth said. Hannah nodded and Beth wrapped her arm around her waist, helping Hannah up off the bed and towards the cell door. The two girls made their way down the stairs and into the room just through the door that lead to the cells. Sure enough, Rick was in the room, sitting at a table. A few others were there, including Michonne and Carl, who were sitting across from each other, caught up in an intense game of cards with candy bars as bets. Daryl was also there, sitting on the table furthest away from everyone, cleaning his crossbow. There were a few more people in the room, but Hannah didn't recognize any of them. When Rick heard them walk into the room, he turned and smiled as them.

"Hannah, it's good to see you up and about," he said with a smile. Hannah grunted at him as Beth helped lower her at the table across from him.

"Yeah, cause this is 'up and about'," Hannah said, resting her left arm on the table. Her headache was almost gone, surprisingly, and she felt a lot less sick. The only downside is that Hannah could now feel the pain in her right arm now that her attention was no longer on her hurt head. Her shoulder and lower arm hurt the most and she groaned. "What am I supposed to do now? I can't really work very much now."

"You can help with the housework around here," someone said and Hannah looked behind her to see Carol making her way towards them, a baby in her arms. She handed the baby and baby formula to Rick before turning towards Hannah. "We could always use more help with the kids, not to mention cooking and cleaning."

"I would love to, believe me, but that probably isn't the best for me," Hannah said. "I'm not very good with kids or any other housework. It's just not my forte, sorry. Is there anything else I can do? I'm not completely useless. I mean, I can still use my other arm and my headache is almost gone."

Rick looked up from feeding the baby (Hannah assumed it was Judith) and turned his head towards Daryl. "Well, Daryl is actually planning on going to clear out more tunnels soon. You can go with him as backup."

When Daryl heard what Rick said, he looked up and angrily said, "I don't need any help, 'specially not from someone who just woke up after sleepin' for three fuckin' days."

"Daryl, you know that you need the backup and Hannah is the only one free right now. As soon as I'm done here, I'm taking Carl, Michonne, and Becca on another run and everyone is busy. Just let her go with you Daryl. You know we can't lose any more people, especially not you."

Daryl huffed angrily and finally said, "Fine, whatever. I'm leaving in five minutes, so if yah want ta go with me, hurry up and get ready."

"Yeah, I'll be right back," Hannah said, jumping up to her feet. Thankfully she didn't get dizzy anymore and she hurried back to her cell. She slipped off her jeans and put on a pair of plain black skinny jeans. After struggling for a moment, Hannah finally managed to get her shirt off to and as she was about to change it, she noticed the bruises around both her arms. She knew they were from the walkers that got her a few days ago and she also knew that they were going to be there for a while, so she decided to get them out of sight as soon as possible. Shrugging on a black short sleeve shirt, she hurried back to meet Daryl before he decided to leave. Thankfully he was still there and as Hannah joined him by the door, Rick lightly grabbed her shoulder, getting her attention.

"Here. I figured it would be best for you to have a few of your own weapons for this," Rick said as he held out Hannah's pipe and machete.

"Thanks. I promise I won't let Daryl get himself killed," Hannah said with a smile as she grabbed her melee weapons back and fastened them securely to her belt, which was difficult with only one working hand at the moment.

Hannah joined Daryl at the door and followed him out of the cell block. The sun was shining and the two of them walked across the yard to another building. A few people waved and said hi to Daryl, who just sent a few of them small nods. The building they went into was dirty and abandoned, but had no walkers seeing how the prison group had cleared them out long ago. Hannah followed Daryl to the back of the room and stood behind him as he opened a door that was locked with a large padlock. The chain and lock dropped to the floor with a loud _clank _and the Daryl swung the door open. Hannah stepped back as a foul smell floated out of the hallway behind the door. Daryl turned around to Hannah, a red bandana around his nose and mouth, and held out a flashlight with another red bandana over it.

"Tie the bandana 'round your face and keep the flashlight aimed towards the ground and in front of us," Daryl said and waited for Hannah to do as she was told. Hannah put the flashlight in her sling as she attempted to tie the bandana around her head with one hand (which was not easy). After a few minutes, Daryl huffed angrily again and stepped forward, holding his hand out. "Give me the bandana. I'll tie it."

Hannah blushed, not liking being so useless, but did as she was told. Daryl stepped behind her and draped the bandana over her nose and mouth before tying it securely behind her head. When that was in place, Hannah held the flashlight in her good hand and turned it on, aiming it towards the dark doorway. Daryl entered the door before Hannah and made sure he wasn't in the way of the flashlight beam. Before them was a long hallway with a few smaller one leading off of it. Daryl told Hannah that they weren't going to worry about them now because their first priority was to get the main hallway empty of walkers before coming back to clear those out. As the two of them got deeper into the darkness, the stench had gotten stronger and there was now at least an inch of water on the ground, soaking through their shoes. Hannah had gotten bored and started to wave the flashlight around the narrow hall by the time anything happened.

"Fuckin' stop that already!" Daryl scolded, finally having enough of it and turned around to face her. "I swear ta god I will send yah back ta the cell if yah won't fuckin' stop."

"Fine," Hannah grumbled, steadying the beam of light again. As soon as it was steady again, Hannah noticed that the water around their feet had rippled ever so slightly. Daryl was still grumbling about her being stupid, but he wasn't moving at all, so that only confirmed that neither of them were making the water move. "Daryl, shut the hell up and look down at the water, but make sure you don't move."

Daryl shut up and did what she said, moving his head down to look at the water. Hannah knew he saw the water ripple also by the way he suddenly tensed, then slowly took his crossbow off his back and held it in his hands. He held a finger to his lips, signaling Hannah to be quiet before slowly starting to walk again. Hannah followed him, keeping the beam of light steady. Everything seemed to get a hundred times quieter, which made the noise the two of them were making a hundred times louder. Hannah could hear her rapid heartbeat in her ears and tried to remember the last time she was this nervous and excited. She could only assume it was before all of this when she was probably on one of her 'outings' she went on with her old friends.

Another noise soon joined theirs and they could clearly hear the moans of a walker in the quiet hall. Hannah aimed her flashlight up and out of the darkness stumbled a walker towards them. The walker was wearing an old prisoner jumpsuit that was so dirty it was barely recognizable. The light of the flashlight caught the walkers wet skin and made it shine, which made Hannah chuckle at the thought of shining walkers chasing her through the woods, which only lead to the thought of walkers as large disco balls, making her stifle a laugh. The shiny walker reached out towards them. The action caused a slab of skin to slip off of its arm and hit the water with a _splash_. Daryl didn't waste anytime lining up the shot and taking it, the bolt going straight through the walker's forehead. The walker fell backwards, making a very loud _splash_, which echoed loudly through the narrow halls.

"Shit. That probably drew the attention of some more walkers. We need ta keep goin' before anymore decide to show up," Daryl swore. The two of them quickly passed the dead walker, Daryl stopping briefly to yank his bolt from the walker's waterlogged head. Sure enough, Daryl had been right. They had barely made it a few yards when they heard another walker stumbling towards them.

"Hey, you take the flashlight. I wanna take care of this one. It's been a few days since I got to kill one of them," Hannah said, holding the flashlight out to Daryl. He grabbed it from her and aimed it down the hall. After debating on which to use, Hannah finally decided to use the machete instead of the pipe, seeing how it was easier and more affective with only one arm. Holding it tightly in her left hand, she walked in front of Daryl. The walker that was lumbering towards them was a guard this time, luckily wearing to armor of any kind. Hannah quickened her pace and brought her arm up. The machete swung down and connected with the side of the walker's head, digging deep into it. Hannah took her machete back and the walker slumped to the ground. Hannah smiled. "God that felt good."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just keep going," Daryl said, handing the flashlight back to Hannah, who had already fastened the machete back to her belt. She took the flashlight and they were back on their way.

##########

They had been in the tunnels for about four hours. Surprisingly, but luckily, they only came across a few walkers and Hannah and Daryl took turns killing them. The water had gotten deeper, leaking in from somewhere that caused it to now be up to just above their knees, and the smell had gotten a lot worse too. The bandana was slowly not doing any good anymore, but they both still had them tied around their lower faces. According to Daryl, they were almost to the end of the tunnels, which means that they will head back out after they were done and someone else will come back at some point to clear out the smaller tunnels that connected with this one.

"I wonder where the hell all of the walkers are. There are usually more than this in these places," Daryl commented. Almost on cue, though, they both heard the moans of multiple walkers coming from the end of the tunnel. Both Hannah and Daryl shut up and stopped. They slowly walked forwards towards the noise and Hannah pointed the flashlight up at the end of the tunnel. They both stopped when they saw the large group of walkers crowded in the narrow tunnel, all pressed together tightly. The light from the flashlight caught their attention and all the walkers turned towards them. When they saw Hannah and Daryl, their moans and groans got louder and the walkers stumbled over each other trying to get towards them. Hannah backed up, but heard a noise coming from one of the other tunnels beside her. She turned the flashlight down the tunnel and froze.

"Um, Daryl, you probably want to see this," Hannah said, staring down the tunnel. Daryl looked where she was looking and froze when he saw what she meant. More walkers were down that hallway, but those were a lot closer and one reached out, almost catching the fabric of Hannah's shirt. "Daryl, I think this is where we haul ass out of here. There's no way we can kill this many."

"Yeah, I agree with yah for once," Daryl said, and almost like their limbs were connected, they turned and ran down the hall. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing how the water was up to their knees and they were trying not to slip on the wet concrete. The splashing they were making echoed through the tunnels and attracted more walkers from other tunnels. Daryl had placed his crossbow on his back to make it easier to run and now had his hunting knife out for any walkers that got too close to them. The beam of the flashlight that Hannah was still holding bounced all over the place as she ran beside Daryl.

Daryl suddenly disappeared from her side, followed by a loud _splash_. Hannah almost fell on her face when she tried to stop. Turning, she saw a walker on top of Daryl, holding him under the water. Daryl was flaying his limbs all over, trying to knock the walker off of himself, but it was no use: the walker wasn't going anywhere. Without thinking, Hannah moved her right arm out of the sling, ignoring the pain, and used it to grab her machete. Swinging it down hard on the walker, it hit the back of its head. Bringing her foot up, she kicked the walker's shoulder, sending it flying off of Daryl, who had stopped moving. Quickly putting her machete back on her belt, Hannah knelt to drag Daryl up out of the water. When his head was above the water, Hannah noticed that he was bleeding from the back of his head, mostly likely from when the walker drug him down. His eyes weren't open either, which scared Hannah more than she would have liked to admit.

"Come on Daryl, wake up already. We have to keep moving," Hannah said, shaking him, but it was no use. Finally getting fed up, Hannah slapped Daryl hard across the cheek. "Wake up dammit!"

Daryl's eyes snapped open and he coughed. Hannah sighed in relief and helped him up. "Glad to see you're awake, now let's go. The walkers are getting way too close for comfort."

"Wait, my knife," Daryl mumbled, looking down to find it. Hannah swore again and let go of Daryl, dropping to her knees and ducking her head under the water. Using the flashlight, she opened her eyes and looked frantically for the knife. A glint of metal caught her attention and she reached for the knife, grasping it. Taking her head out of the water and shaking her wet hair out of her face, she stood up and pressed the knife into Daryl's hand.

"Now let's go," Hannah said, wrapping her right arm around Daryl's waist and helped him walk. They went as fast as they could, which wasn't that fast but still faster than the walkers. As they stumbled along, the water at their feet got less and less before they were once again on dry floor. The groans of the large group of walkers followed them as they drew closer to the doorway out of the tunnels.

The two of them stumbled out of the tunnels and into the room that they were in before they went into the tunnels. Setting Daryl carefully on a chair in the room, Hannah ran back over to the doorway and saw how close the walkers were. Using her one good arm and the abused one, she slammed the metal door shut, grabbed the chain and padlock, and fastened them securely on the door, stopping any walkers that tried to get through. Turning, she leaned heavily on the door and sighed, trying to catch her breath. She yanked the bandana that was still around her lower face down to it was resting around her neck instead, she did something that probably made her look made.

She burst out laughing.

She just couldn't help it. The thought of walkers almost getting them just made her laugh. It didn't help that the thought from before about the shiny disco ball walkers crept into her mind again. Hannah leaned her head back against the door and held her good arm over her stomach, clutching it. Finally getting over her fit of laughter, she looked over at Daryl, who was staring at her like she had gone completely mad, which only made her laugh harder.

"What the hell is wrong with yah?" Daryl asked, an eyebrow arched up. Hannah laughed again.

"Sorry, it's just that we almost died," Hannah said between huffs of laughter. "We were almost killed by fucking shiny walkers."

This got a laugh out of Daryl, but he bit down on it, ending it quickly. Hannah kept laughing, which made Daryl just think 'Fuck it' and he laughed along with her. The two of them laughed loudly together, both forgetting what made them laugh in the first place.

This was the most fun either of them had in a long, long time.


End file.

Walking Dead, Hurt-Comfort, Romance