A/N: So I've jumped on the wagon guys and decided to add to our numbers :D
This will be set sometime around mid season 1 and will largely consist of my own set of scenarios, with a little bit of brushing over on the episodes from the show, so you have some new stuff to read.
I have no idea why I decided to go with a cyborg, I guess I just thought why not have a badass chick with some metal limbs in the apocalypse? x]
I hope y'all like her
At times like this Monkey wished that she hadn't stripped the circuit board from Pops' cellphone for spare parts. With all these Z's around her, and nowhere near enough ammo with her, she wished she hadn't been so cocky into thinking that she could last so long solo. She knew she should have let Pops come with her, but no she just had to tell him to keep watch of the shop in case anyone came by in need of help while she went to pick up her parts from Ron.
Her BMW was currently parked two streets down, and she was weaving through shadows and trying to avoid the swarming hoard of zombies that were trailing around in the streets. As she settled into a crouch behind a yellow beetle, she tucked a disheveled strand of hair behind her ear.
With the hot rays of sunlight beaming down on her she silently shuffled out of her jacket, tied it around her waist and rolled up the hem of her jeans to free her calves. Her body temperature had already decreased before she could even think of starting to sweat, but still she followed through with the mundane actions to allow herself a sense of normalcy. It was way too hot outside for her liking, the heat always seemed to slow her down; her left leg would feel heavier than it should and her right hand would suffer from pins and needles.
Monkey was just glad that her sense of smell was busted up, rotting flesh and summer heat was bound to be revolting.
Her fingers combed through her hair again, tugging through the knots with frustration.
"The thing's i'd do for some shampoo." Monkey hummed under her breath, targeting Ron's apartment block and planning an easy route towards it.
But of course, it was the apocalypse; and that meant that nothing was ever easy.
Red flashed in front of her eyes and a curse pushed past her gritted teeth. In her dash towards the next stationed car; an ugly looking orange Camaro with black stripes, she had been spotted by zombies. Monkey blamed her left leg which caused her to limp slightly off-kilter.
Fumbling with her tool belt she pulled out her last screamer-a sonic device her and Pops had made to get rid of Z's-and she frantically launched it as far away from her as she could, plugging her ears instantly as the head splitting shriek emitted from it.
Monkey relaxed her tensed muscles a fraction, as the Z's diverted their path and turned around, drawn to the high pitched noise.
That just left her with a few strays in her path to gift with a silent bullet.
Moving forward she made her way to the front of Ron's building, pulling up the places blueprints to establish all of her escape options.
Then, holding her breath and her gun, she pushed on the door and slipped inside.
The first thing she noticed was the silence.
Her heartbeat jumped and she warned herself to keep calm and ignore the unease that was starting to settle in her stomach.
Everything was okay, Ron had to be quiet because noise attracted zombies.
Leaving the desolate lobby of the apartment block she made it up the flight of stairs by way of the railing. Under her footing the stairs tended to squeak like mating mice and she didn't want to draw the attention of any Z's. Besides, it was much more fun this way too.
Dropping her feet lightly on the ground she unhooked the gun from her tool belt as she heard shuffling.
"Ron is that you?" Monkey whispered as softly as she could, though she knew the sound was far too light to belong to the bear of a man.
Turning up her audio interface she recognized the sound as scampering and a frown furrowed her brow.
"Hugo?"
A bark sounded out in response and she rolled her eyes and snorted. Of course Ron's little rat of a dog would still be alive in an apocalypse. She had hoped the irritating thing had been fed to a zombie since the last time she had visited. Obviously not.
The scampering came closer, and she knelt down as the small shadow emerged from the doorway.
Monkey was too late to register that the grizzling bark was off, and her vision flashed a warning red as the chihuahua came into view.
"Shit!" She gasped as the undead dog launched towards her, rapidly firing her gun at it only to miss several times as the small creature moved rather fast, despite it's non-living status.
Tiny teeth sank into her boot and she screeched in shock dropping the gun and waving her leg wildly to remove the monstrosity from the studded leather.
"Get off me you disgusting rodent! Get off!" She hissed shaking her head as words appeared across her vision.
SPIKING LEVELS OF ADRENALINE
Grabbing the gun again and pulling the trigger once more, Monkey found with dread that she was all out of ammo.
Just as she had collected herself enough to reach for the wrench in her tool belt, the zombiefied dog had bit down hard. Sparks flew from her foot and fried the mutt, giving her the much needed opportunity to strike it's skull. Liquid silicon seeped into her boot, squelching as she put pressure on the heel and stepped around the officially dead corpse. She shook away the DISCONNECTING alert that flickered over her vision.
Monkey hobbled into Ron's apartment, praying to every God, Spirit and Force of Nature, that there were no more Z's on this floor to deal with.
"Ron?" She whispered again. Her eyes fixing on the disheveled state of the room and filling her with dread. The glass coffee table was broken into thousands of fractals, papers of his unintelligible script and android schematics scattered everywhere. She would have thought it normal if not for the spray of blood and blackened ichor.
"Ron it's the Wrench Monkey.." Raising her volume as she heard movement from his office she gingerly pushed the door open wide with two fingers.
Ron was hunched over his desk, the shiny titanium plated foot sitting in front of him as he peered down at it.
"Oh thank god Cam-" Monkey found her relief short lived as the sound of her voice made the man lift his head up and he looked at her through dirty blonde hair.
Her vision was blinking red and her stomach knotted with dread.
He was dead.
He was undead.
She had no bullets to grant him an easy mercy but she knew she had to do it somehow. Ron was a friend, she couldn't let him suffer like this.
Besides, she really needed the foot that was right in front of him too.
Chewing her lip she slowly nudged along the edge of the wall to the other corner of the room, remembering the pistol that was taped under the ledge above the fireplace.
The fireplace that just happened to still be burning.
Immediately she was captured by the orange flickering embers and her breath hitched. She was shaking, her heart pounding violently as her vision started to distort.
SPIKING LEVELS OF ADRENALINE.
The warning was lost behind a screen of fog, and then there was a crash, shocking Monkey back into the room as a shadow fell in front of her and an undead arm reached out for her.
She screamed as Cameron-no not Cameron- the Z, latched onto her with a vice like grip, it's hands bone crushing, bruising and leaving an imprint on her skin, it's teeth gnashing near her neck, and dripping a mixture of saliva and blood onto her skin.
Her stomach flipped as she brought her hands up to it's jaw snapping it shut, and she had to push down bile as the bones crunched under the crushing pressure of her metal fingers.
"I'm so sorry Ron." She breathed out through a distressed pant, pushing his head all the way back with as much force as she could, hearing a sickening snap. His arms dropped from her waist and her forearm, and she shoved the Z away, fumbling for the gun and grabbing it to finish the job.
Aiming for the centre of his skull she raised a shaky hand.
"Cameron Sinclair, I give you mercy."
Monkey dropped, done for a while.
Her adrenaline had spiked, then faded, then spiked again and then faded and now she was left feeling hollow.
She'd never had to mercy a friend before.
This wallowing feeling that had drained everything from her was a new one, grief was a new one.
Breathing out a heavy sigh she lifted her fingers to tug at her hair. But seeing them, Monkey noticed the filth, the oil stains, the blood; and lowered them immediately, wiping away as much of it as she could on her jeans.
She knew she had to get moving, the gunshot and her screams had alerted the attention of the Z's in the building, and they would be making their way slowly but surely to the source of the sound. Carefully she got to her feet, tucking the pistol into her tool-belt and scooping up the titanium foot that had fell to the floor when the desk had been flipped.
Monkey examined it, grasping it ever so lightly as she checked for any dents and then concealed it safely in her backpack, wrapping it in her jacket and a spare t-shirt.
Eyes landing on the window she avoided the wreckage, avoided looking at Cameron and pulled it open. She winced as it squeaked and carefully climbed out, easing herself onto the fire escape and then made her way back to her BMW as silently as she could despite her struggling limp.
A relieved sigh pushed through her lips as she rested on the hood of the car, pulling off her boot and almost pulling off her foot too in the process.
The thought to keep an eye out for more Z's became secondary as she looked down at the loose appendage and tugged hard to free it from it's socket.
Monkey knew she probably should have waited till she was back at the shop to deal with this, it was risky business out in the open when Z's could appear at any moment, but the foot had been irritating her none stop for months. Now she had a replacement and the right tools to fix it; she just couldn't wait.
Another hard yank and she hissed, sparks flying and singing her fingertips. She jerked away and the punctured foot lay limp, dangling over the edge of the car by a series of tangled colored wire.
With another sigh, she scanned her surroundings briefly; finding them vacant of the living and the undead, then pulled her stained fingers through her hair, tying it into a lopsided knot on top of her head.
"Right. Now let's get to work." She muttered, plucking out a fuse puller from her tool belt.
Carefully, working as fast as she could, Monkey disconnected the wires that still linked her foot and ankle. Sparks sputtered each time causing her to wince and grit her teeth.
With a tug of the last wire the foot fell to the gravel with a clatter.
A gunshot rang out in the distance, she gasped and hurtled forward and almost crashed to the ground, forgetting about her lack of a left foot.
Steadying herself she let her eyes survey her surroundings, cursing her impatience. Z's were coming. Lots of them.
But they were dropping down like flies quicker than they were heading towards her, and her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Where the hell are those bullets coming from?" She wondered, following the shooting line to the rooftops searching for the mysterious sniper.
Monkey, didn't manage to find them before the sound of car tires reached her hearing, and she quickly maneuvered herself into her car, tossing her tools into the passenger seat. Starting up the engine and hitting the gas, she headed off before the vehicle she had heard could get near her. She'd been gone long enough anyways, Pops was probably already starting to worry.
Flickering her gaze to the rear view mirror she caught something glinting on the road, in the sunlight; her little rusted metal foot.
"Hey Pops!" She called as she hopped through the door, ignoring the angrily narrowed eyes that were staring back at her.
The corners of her mouth tugged up as she flopped onto the worn out lime green sofa, sending a pile of scrap metal and scruffy machine schematics to the floor with a clatter.
Meeting the redheads glare with dimples and eyes that smiled like sunsets she stuck out a tongue as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
"How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Alroy." He groaned and she laughed.
"You have no idea what I had to do to get this damn thing so hurry up and attach it will ya, I hate being limbless." Monkey stated, carefully placing the shiny steel plated foot in her lap.
"A simple please would suffice." The redheaded man responded in an almost musical note as his Irish accent laced his words.
Monkey didn't respond to him, instead stroking the unattached limb lovingly and cooing. When he moved away from his desk with a box full of tools in hand and lifted her metallic leg onto his lap, she handed him the missing extremity. Settling into the cushions she watched his freckled face as he worked.
"Had to put down Ron." She muttered awkwardly, gnawing on the inside of her mouth as Alroy hesitated for a moment before pretending she hadn't spoken. He went back to aligning the correct coloured wires.
"I know he was like a brother to you, i'm so sorry." She whispered, shuddering at the memory of the sickening feeling in her stomach as she came face to face with the monster that had replaced such a gentle soul.
Frownlines marred the pretty path of freckles on Alroy's forehead.
"Oh I got some help from a mystery sharpshooter. Didn't get the chance to see them though. Maybe they'll head this way?" Monkey rattled on as Alroy focused on the job at hand, only knowing he was listening to her by his shift in expressions. His lips had contorted into a thin line.
"What have I told you about being careful out in the open?"
She rolled her shoulders back, groaning at the spine-popping crack her joints made.
"It was just one guy, or chick, they might not have even seen me take off a metal foot anyways! I mean they sniped some Z's and didn't shoot me." Monkey stated matter of factly, folding her arms behind her head.
"What if they saw you? What if they tell people they saw you and someone tries to take you?" Alroy tightened the last screw and Monkey swivelled around, setting her foot on the floor and wiggling the toes. They felt a little stiff, but far more comfortable than the last metal limb. Turning her head to face him she smirked, and lifted one shoulder in a shrug to hide her concern.
"I'd like to see them try."
a/n: so just a little introduction of my oc before she officially meets the gang, what did you think? Did you like her? Did you hate her? Did she freak you out?
Hit me a review and let me know, I'd love to hear from you guys.