This is a re-do of an old, unfinished, story I posted. Hopefully you guys enjoy it. Let me know!

I'll see you all in the next chapter!

Bye~

The Walking Dead. Good game. Great story. The only problem: I'm in the game now. Or rather, the game has become my reality. Whichever one you prefer. The point is, I now have to fight for my very life and to the best of my abilities if I have any hope of making it.

Now, how do I know I'm in the game? Because the last thing I remember is getting home from my shift, turning on my PlayStation, and trying to decide on whether or not I should record a let's play.

Before I could make a decision, I watched as my tv screen flickered, went black, and then emitted a blinding light that I guess dropped me off where I am now. So, that's the theory of where I am and how I got here that I'm rolling with.

After about five minutes of hysterical crying over the likelihood of dying via walker, of which there were several I could see in the nearby vicinity, I take a moment to gather my thoughts and try to discern where I'm starting from in the story.

But, I'm still too shaken up to match my surroundings with any game settings I can remember off the top of my head. I take a deep breath. Exhale in, through my nose, and breathe out, from my mouth. In, out, in, out…

Okay, I feel much better. Much, much better.

Right now, I'm in a car on a nearly abandoned neighborhood street. Cars are piled up for as far as I can see up and down the road and with that in mind there are only so many places that I could be starting from.

Several attempts to figure it out later and I'm ignoring it for the time being. I figure trying to focus on what I actually have going for me is a better use of my time. You know, to put a little pep in my step before I have a goddamn panic attack.

Now, what I have are skills that are going to be needed if I want to make it out of this nightmare alive.

First off, I speak multiple languages. So, I should be set in case I come across anyone who happens to only knows Spanish, French, or Russian. Next, I have the skills any good mechanic needs of she wants to fix up her ride and save a few bucks. Right now, I don't think I could ever thank my father enough for all those times he forced me to be his helper in the garage. I learned a lot, but most of it against my will.

Aside from that, I'm much stronger than my sexy, delicate looks give me credit for thanks to years of taking Krav Maga and a handful of other self-defense classes with my brother. That kid loves anything to do with fighting.

As I go on, I can feel my spirits being lifted. Oh, Duh! I'm also an experienced cop for Pete's sake! How can I just go and forget eleven years on the job!? I smack myself on the forehead. I'm such an idiot!

Hey, now that I think about it, I'm like Rick 2.0! Except I'm younger. And a woman from another world where there aren't flesh eating zombies walking about. I sigh as I remember the walkers still just aimlessly wandering about the street in the distance.

I look at the rearview mirror to try and see if there is anything that stands out among the houses behind me when I notice a large black duffel bag taking up most of the backseat. It took a few seconds of me staring before I reached over and brought it up to the front seat.

Holy shit did I not expect it to be so heavy!

I silently prayed for whatever force it was that brought me her to not screw me over with a shit starter pack. Because right now I couldn't see this as anything other than a way to apologize for bringing me to this godforsaken world and I really hoped that I wasn't just being messed with.

I unzipped the bag and happily found myself smiling and giggling like a madwoman. This was the kind of gear that you'd imagine people who genuinely feared the dead coming back to life having underneath their bed.

*Sniff* The Universe doesn't hate me after all. Oh, wow! There's a whole bunch of cool shit in here. Riot gear? Oh, hell yeah! I'm putting this on first chance I get. Which would be once I leave the safety of this car. Can't exactly put on big clunky riot gear while I'm sitting behind a steering wheel, can I?

Well, I could. But it wouldn't be easy.

Aside from the gear, there's also several guns and multiple cartons of ammo to go with them. Handguns, rifles, some hunting knives, a dozen beautiful silencers that'll no doubt save a lot of lives and spare us a lot of trouble, a shotgun or two, and even a badass looking machete. I'm trying so hard not to punch the ceiling in excitement.

Then, of course, I remember that there were still the side pouches to go through. I took out a small revolver that I placed in the cup holder and a handful of bullets that I stuffed into one of my jacket's inner pockets.

In the first side pocket, I find a first-aid kit. Bandages, gauze, painkillers, antibiotics, large needles that I try not to look at, rubbing alcohol that I wish was regular alcohol, disposable gloves, the materials needed for stitching wounds, and several other medical tools that I can't identify.

The second pocket only held a map of Georgia. But at a closer look I can see what makes it the most important item in my possession. Marked on it are the locations of everywhere the games bring you to and the routes that were used to get there.

That wasn't even something I had thought to worry about. Looks like my time here won't be as miserable as I thought it'd be. I'm so much more prepared than I felt my first five minutes here.

The third side pocket didn't have anything at all inside. Looks like that's all the freebies I'm getting. No complaints here. The map alone was enough to feel grateful to whatever sent me here in the first place.

Feeling mentally prepped for what I'm about to face, I'm just about to open the door when I remember that I'm surrounded by cars. And in this world, that's just where those little ankle-biting fuckers like to hide.

I take the armor out of the bag, lamenting the challenge that it's going to be just to take off what I have on, and place it down on top of the noticeably lighter bag. Fifteen minutes later, I had my regular clothes folded neatly and put away and the riot gear covering everywhere save for my face.

Unfortunately, I had to switch out the revolver for a handgun that used magazines. On the plus side, it was easier to reach into the pouch strapped to my side for a single magazine than to go digging around my jacket for individual bullets.

I zipped up the duffel bag, took a deep breath to work up the nerve to leave the car, and then realize that Clementine's house had a forest behind it. And a treehouse! Both of which were things I could use to narrow down where her house could be.

Getting out of the car and keeping my bag of lifelines close to me I head over to a row of houses, one of which should be Clementine's judging from the forest being on that side of the road and begin my search.

After about six or seven backyards, I finally find one with the treehouse. What tipped me off that it was her house was the sound of walkers banging and clawing on the other side of the sturdy wooden fence that the other backyards didn't have. Looks like Lee had been here not too long ago.

But I didn't see Shawn or Chet or anyone out front…I spin around and jog over to the sliding glass door. I open it to find that the babysitter, Marietta I think her name was, is already taken care of.

Fuck…that means they've already gone off to Hershel's farm. Which means I can't stop Hershel's son from dying! I was hoping to make Hershel see the truth of the situation so that his family survives much longer than they did originally, but it seems that things won't always go my way.

I step over the body, make my way over to the living room, and plop myself down on the couch. I need to think. The whole reason for trying to join up with them was to avoid doing this whole thing by myself.

But now there's no reason for me to just show up to Hershel's farm. And if I did, it would be unannounced and probably suspicious considering how soon after I'd be leaving with Lee and Clementine and Kenny and his family. Besides, meeting them now would have made it easier to assert myself as a friend because once the gravity of the situation sets in, people are going to only trust those who have been with them from the beginning.

I sat on the couch, eyes closed but facing the television. After a few minutes, it hit me.

In the game, Andre shows up if Lee and Clementine choose to leave at night. But as far as I know, they chose to leave right away. So that means that Andre's going to show up in a few hours, or at least pass by!

Ok…I had a new plan: Wait for Andre. But what do I do until he gets here? That is, if he gets here. What I'm doing is all under the assumption that he'll show up. If he doesn't, I'll…maybe…go past the farm and just head straight on over to Macon?

I might as well considering the fact that the farm is a bust. Maybe I can get to the motor inn ahead of everyone and save poor Irene. She had to have been bitten only a few hours before Glenn showed up.

In the show, the man from the CDC said that the fastest recorded case was a mere three minutes with the longest time taking nearly eight hours. Even then with billions of people in the world, the time it takes could be even longer.

And when she died looking as though she was in the last stages of the infection. I bet if I can get to her by early tomorrow morning I can save her. Yeah…I'll drive all night if I have to. At the very least, I have to save her.

Otherwise, what the hell was the point of future knowledge if it just goes to waste?

Still, what can I do while I wait? I run my fingers through my hair until a little lightbulb goes off. I saw a small moving truck, maybe a little larger than Kenny's RV, in the driveway of one of the houses earlier. The furniture itself was piled together on the front lawn so it wasn't even filled with anything. I figure whoever rented it was in the middle of trying to move when the walkers came.

Maybe if I search through enough garages, I might find some useful things before the looters come and take what they can. I figure that'll happen in the next few days or so considering it's only the beginning of the apocalypse here.

And the cars themselves were also small gold mines. The motor inn would need a generator and all the gas I could get my hands on. Luckily for me I was surrounded by what, twenty cars that probably had enough gasoline between them to keep the generator, generators if I was able to find more than one, going for more than just a couple of weeks?

Especially if used sparingly.

I'd seen the people in movies siphon gas with a hose, their mouth, and a container for the gas. All I need are the containers and a tube.

I searched the house for everything and anything that I could get my hands on. And I have to say, it felt like I was giving a big 'fuck you' to a lot of game developers by doing the one thing that's forbidden in most games: Going up a staircase that has furniture blocking the way.

I moved everything as quietly as I could, scouring the bedrooms upstairs. Amazingly enough, there was a gun in the nightstand in the master bedroom. I guess Clementine's parents were gun people.

And freaks under the bed sheets apparently! The drawer underneath that had a whole bunch of stuff that even I needed to blush at. Like, 'Do you remember the safe word?' type stuff. I don't think I'll ever look at peanut butter the same way ever again.

With that being pushed into the far depths of my mind, I moved onto Clementine's room which was admittedly how my room looked when I was eight. Very pink and very rainbows and unicorn focused.

I thought maybe I could find a memento to bring back to her, but it was a pretty barebones room all things considering. She must not have been spoiled as a child like I was.

After this little trip to the forbidden zone, I left the house in search of supplies.

Four hours later, with the sun beginning to go down behind me, I was loading in yet another generator into the back of the moving truck. That was four so far. Any more I could find would be good for parts in case one of the others broke down.

As of the fourth generator, I had managed to rifle through at least half of the neighborhood. It was nerve wracking doing my best to go through houses and garages whilst having to worry about someone coming along and taking away all my hard work.

So far, I'd gathered enough supplies to fill a little over half of the truck. At this rate, I'll have cleared out the entire neighborhood and filled up the entire truck. It was so goddamn gratifying to see.

I don't really remember everything I've grabbed so far, but there were things in the truck that would no doubt be useful in the long run.

Fire extinguishers, bedsheets and pillows that'll be fine once they're washed, toolboxes, propane tanks, generators, various firearms and accompanying ammo, clothes that I can wear later on, matches, toilet paper, soap, shampoo, towels and washcloths, candles, condoms, enough canned foods to last a very long time if rationed correctly, board games, books that looked like they'd be interesting reads, a bunch of handwritten recipes I found and placed in Ziploc bags, cleaning supplies, and whatever else I can't think of off the top of my head.

In all honesty, some of these were luxury items that were more for keeping ourselves entertained rather than survival. I figure that people with no outlet for their stress are usually the ones who snap first.

Going into homes and looting what was left behind had been the easy part. The hard part was putting down the walkers who were inside. Especially the ones that were children. Even though I know they weren't really children anymore, they were still children shaped and that tripped me up several times.

I still put them down, of course. It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth when I do.

Andre shows up just as I begin to take my break, of which I've taken several because moving all this shit around in this heavy ass gear is tiring, in his car and hesitates before walking over to me. From the look on his face he's seen the walkers in all their glory.

"Hello officer!" I do my best to sound cheery. "What, uh, what can I do for you?" He looks at me, then at the truck full of the stuff I looted, and then back at me. I shrug my shoulders. "It's the apocalypse, man. I figure that those things won't be needing them, so why not stockpile what I can before other people come for it?"

Unimpressed at my response, "You're looting while the city's in a state of panic. I should bring you in." He rests his hands on the handcuffs on his belt. The way his voice carried…it sounded hollow. And there was a haunting look in his eyes. The city was probably where he just came from, and those stacks of smoke I can almost smell tell me everything I need to know about what he's seen.

The man's probably trying to hold onto something normal so he can function. Namely, arresting a criminal.

"Are you really going to do something so incredibly stupid as to handcuff me and then drive me all the way back to your precinct in the middle of your monster infected city?" He hesitates before nodding, unsure of himself.

"Let me ask you this, you've seen what those things have been doing, right? Eating people left and right and then turning them into whatever they are." He nodded his head again, paling as he remembered something horrible.

"Then listen to me when I say that not only will it get worse from here on out in the city, but it won't be long before shit really hits the fan for the rest of the world too." Andre's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak.

I wonder what he'll be like in the coming months. Hopefully not an asshole. Too many of those are bound to come up while as time passes. The game showed him for all of two seconds before sending him to an unknown fate.

"What?" I felt bad for just putting in his head the fact that the world as he knew it would be gone in a matter of days, but it needed to be done. No time to waste if I was to ensure our survival.

I nodded sadly. "This thing is everywhere. As far as I know, all across the United States, probably the world too, these monsters are going around infecting people with whatever they have and turning them into more monsters. That's why I'm gathering everything I can get my hands on right now before everyone else starts to do the same thing."

His hand drops from his belt and he sort of crumples to the ground, sobbing silently. That happened faster than I'd expected. Shit…I wanted to help him understand, not whatever this was.

"This really is the end of the world…isn't it?" He slowly rocks back and forth, completely devastated by the realization. "I mean, I figured that the government would do something before too long…but…"

I shake my head. "The government? Doubt it. I think they're first move would be to contain the largest outbreak centers in an attempt to prevent it from spreading. Which is why I'm trying to get the hell away from the city as soon as possible."

He didn't say anything after that. Just kept sitting there, slowly unraveling before me. "What's your name?"

Andre looked up at me, the same broken look as before. "Andre…Yours?"

I walk over to him. "Penny." I extend my hand. "So, Andre…seeing as how you're not looking too busy…you wanna help me gather supplies? Night's going to fall soon and I want to be done with this before then. With your help, we just might be able to do it."

He doesn't move, and neither does my extended hand. "C'mon, I know the world going to shit is terrible and all…but it could be a whole lot worse."

Raising his eyebrows incredulously, "How could all of this," he gestures to the desolate neighborhood. "be any worse!?"

I smile. "Well, you could be all alone right now with no idea how bad things really are. Instead, you're here with me and my truck full of supplies." His gaze leaves me and travels to my truck. "So how about it? Would you mind helping me out?"

He looks at my hand, internally debating whether or not to trust me. I am a stranger to him, after all. But I'm also dressed like a cop, technically I am a cop, and that seems to set him at ease. His shaking hand reaches up for mine. Pulling him up to his feet, I watch as he does his best to shake everything off.

"Okay. Alright, let's do this. What…what do you need me to do?" And just like that, I found myself taking the first step in changing the tragedy that was this game into something a little less heartbreaking.