Title: Welcome To the New Age
Rating: T for language, violence and gore.
Summary: "This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper." Taylor's left alone at the end of the world and bumps into someone that might be able to help her out.
Warnings:
Violence, language, character death, blood and gore, original character (in case that wasn't clear), racial slurs.
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with AMC, The Walking Dead or its cast. I'm just a fan who's playing in the sandbox.
Author's Notes: I don't even know what's going on here, if I'm frank. I was reading through some fanfics while listening to Imagine Dragons' song Radioactive on repeat and this sort of… appeared. Any and all forms of constructive criticism are welcome, as well as any other comments you might have! I'd love to know what you think of Taylor, and if you think Glenn's in character. I had a little trouble writing him so I'm not sure. I hope you enjoy it!


One

(Because everything has to start somewhere.)

Taylor was perched on top of one of the numerous apartment buildings in Atlanta, bow held loosely in her hands as she adjusted the quiver of arrows on her back. She was safe up there, high where she couldn't be seen or smelt with her bow as protection. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the handle of the knife she had pickpocketed from one of the corpses she had dropped early on into the epidemic.

Life in Atlanta wasn't exactly ideal after the outbreak – and that was one hell of an understatement. The life she had known and loved had been ripped away violently, taking with it the remainder of her innocence. That life had been replaced with a new one where the dead rose to eat the living and she was on her own, hiding on rooftops for safety.

The end of the world as she knew it had changed her to the core. Her sole focus was on surviving because she had promised her mother that she would, and partly because she felt like every day she made it by was saying a big 'fuck you' to the universe. She was a lot darker than the happy woman she had been, but then, who wasn't darker these days?

Taylor sighed, scouring the streets as she ate her meagre breakfast. She had been on this building for three days now and it was high time she moved again, but she was reluctant to do so. Her body ached with a bone deep exhaustion, fighting against the trials she was putting herself through and the lack of sleep. She sighed again, finishing her breakfast before gathering up her things.

She slung the worn duffel that contained everything she owned over her shoulder, sliding her bow into the quiver where it could be easily reached before she started down the fire escape. It was quicker than going through the floors of the buildings and safer. There was a smaller chance of running into the dead going down the fire escape than attempting to make her way through the building.

She landed on the ground quickly, making barely on noise. They were attracted to noise and the last thing Taylor wanted was to attract them. She withdrew her bow again, nocking an arrow just in case. She crept down the alley she was in, peering down the street. She counted five corpses all in all, a frown tugging her lips. After a moment, she blew out a quiet breath and raised her bow, pulling back the bowstring before letting her arrow fly. She watched it slam into the corpses' head with a small smirk before letting another four arrows loose.

The corpses were on the ground before they had a chance to realise what was happening. After taking another look around, Taylor walked into the street, bow at the ready as she gathered the arrows she had used and returned them to the quiver. While she could make arrows if she ever ran out, she would prefer to have as many on hand as possible and she was already starting to run low.

She made her way through the city, sticking to alleys and quiet streets where only a few corpses lingered and were easily dealt with. Taylor had gotten good at sneaking through the alleys out of necessity; there were too many corpses around to run through the main streets without attracting attention. She had seen what had happened to those that attracted attention.

She was almost at the building she had decided would be her home for the next few days when she ran into something. Her knife was out in a flash – her bow was no use in such close contact and besides, it had flown out of her hand upon contact – and readied herself to slam the blade into the thing's head when she realised the body beneath her was talking.

Leaning back a little, Taylor frowned at the man she was perched on. The man was very alive and more than a little terrified, judging by the expression on his face. She huffed irritably, hiding her excitement at seeing another living person close up for the first time in a month and a half. She couldn't afford to let herself get excited; the world was a rougher place and she had no idea if this man was going to be friendly or a foe. She clambered off of him, hauling him to his feet without prompt before grabbing her bow and taking a few steps back.

"Oh my God, I thought you were going to kill me!" the man hissed, the fear not really leaving his face.

Taylor rolled her eyes, even as she inwardly approved of his quietness. He was smarter than some that had wandered into the city. "I was going to," she said flippantly, inspecting her bow for any marks. "Thought you were one of them."

The guy nodded, pulling off his hat and running his hand through dark hair before replacing it. "You, uh, pulled that knife pretty quickly," he noted, peering at her.

She returned her knife to its customary place in her belt but kept her bow out, an arrow already nocked. "If I didn't react quickly I'd be dead by now," she replied, finally looking at the man straight on. "What are you doing in the city? Don't you know it's not safe?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "You're here," he pointed out. At her silence, he shrugged and answered, "I'm getting supplies for my camp. I know Atlanta better than anybody else so getting supplies is usually my job."

Taylor snorted, shaking her head as she looked down the street, casting her eyes around in search of any danger. "Looks like you drew the short straw there," she murmured when she was satisfied the street was still empty.

"Yeah," the man agreed with a sigh, falling silent for a moment. "I'm Glenn."

She swung her head around to see Glenn smiling at her a little warily. "Taylor," she said after a pause. "My name's Taylor."

"Nice to meet you, Taylor." When she simply nodded in reply, Glenn frowned a little before asking, "So, I told you why I'm in the city. Why are you here?"

Taylor ran a hand along the smooth wood of her bow absently. "I live here," she said blankly. "I couldn't get out when the outbreak hit, so I hid - you know how it was. Haven't left town since."

"You live here?" Glenn pressed incredulously after a beat of stunned silence. "On your own? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

She shrugged. "I haven't died yet."

Honestly, it was dangerous. Atlanta had been manageable in the first two weeks or so. There were a lot of corpses, sure, but they stuck to mostly the same areas and the military had been dealing with it. After the city was overrun, it was a little worse but still manageable. After a month and half, though? The corpses were spread out, and there were a lot of them, and food and water were in short supply. It was harder to navigate the streets and harder still to find safe buildings to camp out.

"That doesn't mean it's safe!" Glenn protested a little too loudly for her comfort.

"Quiet," she snarled lowly. She stuck her head out of the alley, checking there were no corpses nearby before turning her eyes to Glenn. "You think I don't realise this is dangerous? Of course I do. I've seen people get ripped to shreds by the corpses. I've had a plenty of close calls, myself. But there are more supplies here than out on the road, and where the hell would I go, huh? I haven't got anywhere to go and nobody to go with," she bit out heatedly.

"You could come to my camp," he suggested after a moment. "Shane – he's the leader, I guess – he said if we find any survivors to bring them back. We could use the help."

"And the extra mouth to feed?" she shot back, taken back by his abrupt offer. Though she had been hoping to maybe get some help off of the guy, she had in no way expected an offer to go to his camp.

"We'd do alright," Glenn said with a shrug. "Sure, food's a little scarce but there's always enough to go around."

Taylor straightened out, blinking at him unsurely. "What's the catch?" There had to be a catch. People didn't just go around throwing out offers for safety these days.

"No catch," he insisted. "We're kind of going for the whole safety in numbers thing, and you look like you can take care of yourself. You must be able to if you've lasted this long in Atlanta. We could do with the help keeping camp safe, and there are always chores to do."

She stared at him for a long moment, tilting her head to the side as her brows knitted together. She ran a hand over her bow again in a nervous movement. "You serious?" she asked warily. "I can just… come to your camp? No strings attached? Just help out and I can stay?"

"Sure!" he enthused, though he kept himself quiet.

Taylor nodded, smiling softly. It felt strange on her face; she hadn't smiled in what seemed like a very long time, but it was nice. "I'd like that," she said quietly. "I'd really like that. …Thank you."

Glenn positively beamed at her. "It's no problem," he assured her. "C'mon, I was just heading out. Finished my supply run already."

She nodded again and followed as he headed back out onto the street, staying just a little behind him. Though she was hopeful this wasn't going to turn around and bite her in the ass, she didn't know Glenn well enough to trust him, so walking behind him was safer if he turned on her. It didn't seem likely - he could have just not mentioned his camp at all if he was going to turn on her for some reason, or he could have ran, or killed her already. But Taylor was wary, so she kept behind him and made sure he didn't move to grab his weapon.

The walk out of the city was mostly silent, it being too dangerous to really delve into conversation. When they reached the vehicle parked on the outskirts that apparently belonged to her new companion, Taylor couldn't help but start talking.

"Where'd you get a car? Fuel?" she questioned, a little amazed despite herself. She hadn't seen an actual, working car in a month.

"I kind of stole the car a few weeks ago," Glenn admitted sheepishly as he opened the backseat, throwing his own duffel in. "Got the fuel from some abandoned cars." He gestured for her to place her own duffel in the back and she did so, though she kept her weapons.

"Your camp must be doing pretty well, huh?" Taylor said in reply, hesitantly getting into the passenger seat as Glenn got into the driver's seat. Her hand went to her knife briefly; she didn't like being in a confined space with someone she didn't know, but at least she had a way to protect herself if things went badly.

"Yeah, like I said, we're doing alright." He grinned over at her as he started the car and they drove away. "I mean, it's not perfect or anything, but it's nice."

Taylor nodded in acceptance, prepared to retreat to silence after that exchange. A month and a half alone with barely any human contact had worn away her already rather awkward social skills and she was happy to go back to being silent. Glenn, however, seemed to have other ideas and drew her into another conversation. Through the course of the ride to the camp, they got to know each other a little while Taylor settled back into talking to other people. He pulled her out of her shell a little, managing to get a few more smiles out of her by the time the car came to a stop at the camp.

Well, she thought, steeling herself a little as they slowed to a stop. Here goes nothing.


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