Cameron sat in the dark room of the once overrun gun store that her group was settled in. She had weaponry, little food and water, enough to keep her alive for another few months. The only thing missing? Her group. Her mother, father, friends, and neighbors were dead and buried in the back of the gun store She was twelve and alone for months on end, learning to mature into a twelve year old adult. She studied up on the things that now roamed the earth, eating whatever flesh they could land their hands on. She was starting to go insane by herself, and decided she need to toughen up and find another group that would accept her. She grabbed her shotgun, rifle, and pistol. She flung the rifle around her shoulder and put her pistol in her belt with safety on. She stuffed her backpack with ammunition and food, then kicked open the door with her black boots.
Walkers ran at her from every possible direction. She ran and shot simultaneously, landing a round in a walker's head and watching the skull explode from the inside out. She shot again at a young woman running at her, blowing its jaw clean off of its ugly face. One was gaining on her, so she threw herself around and stuck a pocket knife in its brain. Once she faced forward, she saw a gate leading to a prison. She noticed the ledge was steep, and walkers were bound to get her any second. She took one shot, and the recoil threw her off the ledge, knocking her out cold when she landed.
"Dad, I heard a gunshot coming from behind the gate!" Carl yelled at his father. "It was probably just Glenn. Don't think too much of it." He replied blandly. Right at that moment, Glenn came inside the cell block. "Rick, get out here, now!"
Carl shot the walkers that were surrounding Cameron. "Is she dead?" Questioned Hershel, hopping over to the scene. "Naw. She's still breathing. Help me get her inside." Rick motioned for Glenn to hold up the poor girl's head. "Is she bit?" asked Carl. Glenn studied the bare skin on her. "Not that I can see, kid."
When Cameron woke up, there was a bandage squeezing her head underneath her beanie, and she was enclosed behind bars. She heard the whispers of people on the other side of the bars. People! She thought. "Should we let the little girl stick 'round here?" she heard a man with a strong southern accent ask. "I doubt she's a threat. She looks about my age." another questioned, only this time a child. "We can't be too careful. We don't know who to trust." Suddenly, the cry of a baby shattered the silence. A baby? She thought, rather concerned. A woman's voice quieted down the baby, sounding very motherly towards it. That must be the mother. She thought. "Carl, hold your sister for a sec. I need to go check on the girl."
Cameron began to panic. She froze, her gaze toward the bars. Two men approached it, one with a crossbow and a sleeveless shirt, the other with a long sleeved shirt rolled to his biceps; this one older than the other. "Well look who decided to wake up," the one with the crossbow said. She found who the southern accent belonged to. The other motioned for her to come up to the door. She did what he asked, only very slowly and while reaching for her pocket knife. Gone. Same as her other weapons. "Looking for these, girlie?" The crossbow wielding one held up her shot gun, rifle and pistol. "We found you outside the gates. Do you want to tell us how you got here?" The older one asked.
"Shit...well, I was camping out in a gun store 'round here and..." Cameron was cut off by the older man. "The one just up there? That was overrun! You mean to tell me you cleared that out yourself?" he said. "Well, I used to be part of a group of adults, but..." she swallowed hard as her eyes started to tear up. "My parents...they..." she spoke shakily. "How long you been alone?" The younger one asked. "Few months...maybe six or seven..." she was still speaking shakily. "I'm not a threat to your group here, sir..." she said with her head down. A tear dripped off her nose. The older man unlocked the door for her. "Come over here and meet everybody. I still can't fork over your weapons, okay?" Cameron nodded. "Thanks, sir. I just need to be around people..."
"I'm Rick, and this is my son Carl." He looked toward the boy in the sheriff hat. The boy waved shyly to her. "This is Daryl." he looked to the man with the crossbow. "We didn't get your name, doll." Daryl said. She hesitated. "Cameron." she finally choked.
Cameron met everyone. For some reason, she was most fond of Daryl and Maggie. "There's just one last person you haven't met yet." Carl said, pointing a finger up to Carol and Judith. They climbed the stairs up to them. Cameron put a hand over her own mouth. "She's adorable...your sister?" Cameron asked. Carl nodded. She looked over to Carol. "Are you her mother?" Carol looked at the floor. "No." she replied. "Oh..." "Would you like to hold her, Cameron?" Her face lit up. She nodded. For the first time since her second cousin was born, she was holding a baby. "Daryl calls her Little Ass-kicker." Carol giggled. "Sounds like a name I'd give her." Cameron joked.