They Will Devour You

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead franchise; this story is a combination of the games, TV series, and comics. However any original characters and other plot twists that you do not recognized are mine.

Full Summary: A trip from Macon back to Atlanta couldn't have been at the worse time for a family of three. When their father distracts the Walkers and allows for his daughters to escape – they are left to survive the apocalypse along with other survivors who will possibly keep them alive or destroy them. Daryl/OC, OC/OC, OC/Michonne, and minor canon pairings.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language (Swearing and Racial Slurs), Violence, Gore, Femslash, Character Death, Sexual Content, Rape (later chapters), and anything else I can't think of...

PS: Yes, this is a love-triangle but towards the end I will pick Daryl probably, it can go either way really - the other character is a female OC. If I put a line break anywhere it usually means a flashback is coming up or the ending of one. That would basically start during the second chapter which is longer than this one. R&R!

PROLOGUE

(Day 1)

"There have been numerous sightings and reports coming in from all over the world including The United States, Japan, France, Spain, and Russia. They are saying that a flu-like disease is going around and the victims are almost in a trance-like state, they express the need to eat anything living in sight, and are incredibly violent. Officials are advising everyone to stay indoors or find a safe place along with supplies until they have everything under control – I personally advise that you arm yourselves. Officials also state that anyone who is bitten by these individuals should automatically be dealt with or locked in a room and kept under surveillance. The most effective way of stopping these individuals is by shooting them in the head, I repeat, by shooting them in the head. But blunt force trauma of any kind seems to permanently stop them. Scientists from CDC all over the world are working on a possible cure but so far have not been able to create one as of now…. Before I go off the air; I wish everyone out there that is listening to this station, others like it, and if you cannot hear me, I hope you ride this thing out and stay alive…. D.J Max is out."

Static.

CHAPTER 01

(Day 3)

We were finally on our way out of Macon, Georgia to go to our beautiful brick four-bedroom house in Atlanta heading towards Interstate 75 after attending a funeral for a close relative of ours that was held a few days ago. The silence was killing me and the radio surprisingly didn't help much since some of the stations weren't coming through fully – occasionally we caught a few words but nothing that made any sense. So I decided to try to make small talk for my sanity's sake.

"I'm really going to hate this semester." I complained from my seat in the back of the black Subaru Forester, quietly enjoying the wind as I stuck my hand out of the window like a little kid.

"How come?" Michaela, my incredibly sweet but straightforward little sister, questioned with an eyebrow raised as she turned towards me from the passenger's seat as my Dad paid close attention to the road but I knew he was listening in.

"I have seven classes now which means I'm going to be super busy," I sighed in annoyance and dread, "plus from what my other classmates tells me, some of my teachers are jerks and over assign work. And I know for a fact that my English and psychology classes are going to make me write five-page papers every other week." I complained, messing up my black hair that was blowing randomly as the wind combed and brushed through it. Georgia was always hot during the summer; the air was hot but refreshing since we were moving. My dad thought it would be good to have some fresh air before we hit the big city but I didn't mind.

"Wow, college sounds hard," Michaela stuck her tongue out before turning to Dad, "you're not going to make me go, right?" I could basically hear "the puppy dog eyes" without even looking at her causing me to smile.

"If you want to be a computer forensic analyzer then yes," he teased as she pouted, "sorry, kiddo."

It happened so suddenly I still can't believe it. Dad muttered something but I wasn't paying attention since I was watching the pavement zoom by. Then I heard Michaela scream which snapped me out of my daze – then the next thing I know, the Forester was plummeting off the highway and into the woods below. I remember hearing our Dad shout for us to hold on as he unsuccessfully tried to regain control over the vehicle and avoid the dozens of trees but of course it was all in vain. I must have blacked out for a few minutes because I slowly pried my eyes open to see Michaela with a bruise on her forehead, probably from hitting the dashboard and Dad was bleeding from several cuts on his arms from the windshield glass. I instantly panicked; my father was a mild to severe hemophiliac which means his blood does not clot normally, it doesn't necessarily mean that he bleeds more than a normal person but he does bleed longer than normal people. In his case, a simple cut could bleed out for days or weeks which ultimately causing blood loss and unconsciousness possibly leading to numerous infections or death.

"Dad! Are you okay?" I questioned fearfully, forcing myself out of the backseat and around to the driver's side of the vehicle quickly, despite the fact that I was sore and my muscles were basically screaming at me for moving too fast. I saw Michaela leaning closer to him, inspecting him for any more injuries we couldn't see. He brushed us off, trying to stand up but I pushed him back into the seat but not before he cried out. I then noticed that his ankle appeared to have be sprained. This just keeps getting better and better.

"I'm okay," he replied, "you two worry too much." He flashed us a smile but we both gave him the look which he sighed.

"Dad," I said in a stern voice, now was not the time to play the macho card, "you're bleeding. We need to get you to the hospital, now." I emphasized the last three-lettered word, by glaring at him – stopping another dispute from coming up. My sister's next words shocked me.

"What about the guy you almost hit?" Michaela asked, as she helped him to stand up again, he bit back a complaint from coming out of his mouth as his foot touched the dirt ground. What guy? There was a guy in the road?

"I don't know," he ran a hand through his curly afro while looking at me with sad and confused hazel eyes, "he just came out of nowhere, Mir, he-he looked like he had rabies or something. The front of his shirt was covered in blood. His eyes seemed glazed over," he shook his head in anguish, "it scared the hell out of me so I tried to move so I wouldn't hit him." During this time I was applying pressure to the most serious wounds on his arms.

"Dad, it's okay. All of us are fine. We should go to the hospital and call the police to find that man." I reassured, trying to convince both of us. He still looked unconvinced; I suppose he could still picture the man he almost ran over engraved in his mind's eye.

"I can't get a signal." Michaela cried out in desperation and frustration which alarmed me. Why couldn't we get a signal? We weren't that far from the highway which had numerous telephone poles. This was beginning to give me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. That's when we first heard it – the moans and groans of the dead.

Looking towards the right side of the totaled vehicle, we could see the outlines of bodies, varying in size, age, and gender, coming out from the trees and bushes. When they came into the small patches of sunlight pouring through from the leaves, I heard Michaela scream in horror and my dad's sharp intake of air. Their bodies were mangled, shredded, covered in fresh and old blood, their faces were grotesque and void of all emotion, and their eyes were glazed over – trained directly on us. Some walked somewhat normally though they were jerky in their movement, others were limping since some had lost parts of their leg or the entire limb, and a few were crawling, I could actually see the trail of intestines and muscle tissue trail behind them as they moved. I moved in front of Michaela, looking over our surroundings, in the distance I caught sight of what appeared to be a fence of some kind.

"Here, Amirah," Dad basically shoved a crowbar into my shaking hands as he pulled out his Beretta from the glove compartment, "I want you two to run while I hold them off." He stated bluntly, seriousness etched in his face. I instantly protested while Michaela begged Dad not to do this.

"Are you crazy!? You're bleeding and injured. We are not leaving you here." I hissed, my eyes narrowing in defiance.

"No! Dad, don't say that." Michaela pleaded with tears glazing over her eyes.

"Listen, I will come back for you two," He stated firmly, looking both of us in the eyes before glancing up at the incoming group of the undead, "find a safe place with supplies. Please listen to me. I love you, two," he kissed both of our foreheads before pushing us in the direction I saw the fence.

"Go!" He shouted, shooting the closet one before turning on his heel and running in the opposite direction with a limp. I stared after him for a second. pushing back tears, before snatching Michaela's hand and running towards the fence. I didn't want this to be the last time I would see my Dad; I hoped that it wouldn't be. But I already knew that was a lot to ask for already so I forced myself not to think about it and focused on getting Michaela to a safe place at least for the night until we can figure out what to do next. But I could still hear his distance insults towards the bodies and it gave me hope that he would make it.

"Mir, some of them are following us." Michaela sobbed but I didn't look back. I guess from the moment I saw them – I knew what they were. The monsters that were created by George Romero which inspired dozens of movies, video-games, comic books, and plays for decades. The things chasing after us were the undead better known as zombies. They would devour us without a second thought, despite if they knew us or not – they only craved living flesh. This thought pushed me into running faster, I felt sorry for Michaela who was basically dangling from my hand but I couldn't stop or else we would be dead. She must have known this because she didn't complain. The vegetation surrounding us disappeared into a greenish-brown blob as we continued on. My legs felt as if they were going to give out on me at any second and I willed them to continue moving. I refuse for us to die this way.

It seemed like it was hours before we reached the wooden stained fence, I allowed Michaela and I to catch our breath but kept a look out for the dead. They were just coming into view when I turned toward Michaela with a frantic but serious look on my face.

"W-we need to climb the fence, hopefully the other side would be better if not it will at least by us some time to get out of here." I said, not sugar coating anything though my voice did trembled a bit. Michaela nodded in understanding which I was grateful for.

"Let's do this." I helped the fourteen-year-old over the seven-foot tall fence when she told the coast was clear, I immediately forced myself over just as the corpses was merely yards away. I sighed before standing and look around the yard, my eyes quickly swept over the tree house located at the corner of the property before settling on the sliding porch doors directly in front of us. I spotted a metal baseball bat and handed it to Michaela who reluctantly took it.

Carefully making our way up the stairs and by the doors, I peered into the dark house and saw no movement. I mentally prayed that the house did not have an alarm system activated and slowly slid the door open. Yes, no alarm! I guess our luck was looking up at the moment. We quietly made our way into the house; the living and kitchen were right across from each other.

"Let's see if we can get some food." I whispered lowly, Michaela nodded and followed a foot behind me. Unfortunately, I heard what sounded to be papers and books fall to the ground loudly behind me, my eyes saw the pool of blood Michaela's shoes were in before the pounding of footsteps were heard which were heading towards us quickly. Shit!

Seconds later, what appeared to have been a woman stalked towards Michaela but I knocked her backwards which Michaela took that moment to stand up and back away from us while keeping an eye out for anymore of those things. The undead woman tried to grab me but I kicked her, knocking her into the wall for a moment before she tried to attack again. To my luck (not), this time I was the one who slipped on the puddle of blood which took my breath away for a second, from the corner of my eye I saw Michaela staring at me with wild eyes before the woman attacked again. She jumped on me, snapping her jaw towards my neck when I thrusted the crowbar into its mouth and coming out of the back of her head. Her movement instantly stopped before she went slack.

"Ew, gross." I complained when some of the woman's blood hit my face. I quickly dislodged the crowbar out of the woman and went to find a towel.

"Are you okay?" My sister asked softly. I nodded as I wiped the blood away.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I replied back. We efficiently checked the rest of the house to find no one or nothing else in the house that would attack us.

"Mir, look. I found a walky-talky. Do you think we can find someone to talk to us?" Michaela asked, excitedly.

"Let's see if it actually works." I said, hiding the bit of excitement in my chest. I can't get my hopes up.

"Hello? Is anyone out there? Over." I spoke into the device, sharing a look with my little sister.

It was completely silent for a few moments.

"I knew it." Michaela pouted, I open my mouth to say something when…

Author's Note -

Amirah Lucas (22) is portrayed by Cassie Ventura; Michaela Lucas (14) is portrayed by Amandla Stenberg, and Leon "Dad" Lucas (52) is portrayed by Gary Dourdan.

I know this chapter didn't have a lot of action and was slow but I would like at least 3 reviews before I post the second chapter.

I actually have the whole thing brainstormed but if anyone's interested you can PM if you want your OC to also be a part of the story and I'll send you the details.

Please remember favorite, follow, and/or review - all feedback is welcome except flames but I have no problem with constructive criticism.

If you have a Walking Dead story you want someone to read then tell me!

I hope you enjoyed it!