This is another story I started 4 years ago and published on another site - life and work got in the way of me writing, so I haven't finished this story yet. I want to revamp it and publish here so please let me know what you think!
I do not own TWD, Daryl Dixon, or any other original character from the show, and I want to give credit to the writers of TWD for their plot lines.
Grace, Madison, Claire, Marc, and Tyler are my own characters and any extra plots added are my own.
"NOOOOOOOOO! No, no, no!"
"Claire!" I whispered loudly to my younger sister, grabbing her arm. "Be quiet before you bring more down on us!" She twisted hard, trying to get away from me. I pulled her with all my might. "A LITTLE HELP HERE!" I said loudly to her boyfriend Tyler, who was just standing there with a look of shock on his pretty face.
My brother in law Marc came flying back into the house and picked Claire up around the waist, pulling her from the house and into the garage as she continued to protest and cry, slapping his arms and flailing around. Tyler, eyes cast downward, turned and slowly followed them. I could hear my older sister Grace crying while trying to console Claire from the garage before the car door closed.
I turned my attention to the gruesome scene in front of me: There was blood and viscera everywhere, smeared on the floor and walls. Two dead biters, one older woman and one younger man, lay with their brains splattered around the kitchen, having been put down minutes earlier by Marc and myself.
My eyes moved to the other figures on the floor and I gulped back vomit and tears, my eyes burning and chest tight with apprehension.
My parents lay dead and bloody, savagely bitten by the two dead biters who had found their way into the house we had been squatting for three days. My eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill as I stood and looked at them, completely devastated.
I heard a noise behind me and whipped around with my knife at the ready and saw Marc coming back in the house. He put his hands up defensively. I lowered it quickly and gave him a short nod.
"It's best if Claire and Grace don't see this," he said quietly, removing the knife from his belt. He put his head down, looking at the floor visibly upset. "I can't believe it...Tom and Nancy...they've always been like real parents to me..." I choked back a sob and took a deep breath. Come on, Madison, I thought to myself, pull your shit together. It has to be done. "How the hell did they even make it in?" Marc asked in a whisper. I shrugged. "The door had to have been cracked open...who opened it?"
I threw my hands up in the air and slammed them down on my hips in frustration. "I don't know. It's too late to wonder about it now or lay any blame," I snapped. I looked over at him and immediately regret my tone, especially when I saw him grimace, and ran a hand threw my tangled blonde hair. "I'm sorry. I just...I don't know. We've been so careful..."
"Maybe they cracked the door for air? It has been stale in here..." I nodded, wiping a tear before it hit my cheek as I thought about how Daddy had been complaining about the heat and stuffiness in the boarded up house.
They'd been in the kitchen fixing a quick meal with what we had scavenged from the house next door. The rest of us had been sitting in the living room, discussing our next move: supplies and food were low and we needed to make a run soon.
I closed my eyes tightly thinking about the events that occurred a few moments ago, a memory I knew would be with me forever...
I was looking at a map with Marc as he and I planned our next move when we heard the screams. We all ran into the kitchen to see a male biter attacking Daddy, destroying his neck, his bright red blood spurting everywhere as he tried to fight him off. Mama was struggling with the female biter as she was tearing chunks from her shoulder. Marc was closest to Mama and took down the female with his knife. I ran across the room and buried my knife in the male biter. By the time the undead were dead for good, Mama was taking her last breath as she held onto Grace's hand and Daddy was already gone and laying at my feet. All I could hear was the sounds of gurgling from Mama and screaming and crying from my sisters as I stood amongst the chaos.
We were too late and now they were dead and about to rise again as one of them.
"Madison," Marc said suddenly. I shook my head and looked across the room to see Mama's hand twitching. "We have to do it," he said.
I nodded as he walked over to my mom and bent down, letting a sob escape from his mouth. Her eyes fluttered and he drove his knife into her temple, making a squelching sound I knew I would never forget. Her hand went limp and so did Marc. I could see his shoulders shaking with grief as he cried over her body. A tear rolled down my cheek as I turned toward Daddy.
I walked slowly to him, the man who had taught me everything...
I was like the boy he never had and his little girl all rolled into one. He taught me to hunt, fish, drive, and live off the land...but also instilled in me the attributes of a southern lady. Of all his girls, I was his number one and he was my daddy. No guy I had ever been with had been good enough for me in his eyes...and none of the guys I had met were as good a man as my dad, though I'd found one close. I sobbed at the thought of my dead fiancé, wishing he were here with me now.
Daddy started to stir and a groan came from deep inside him. Marc stood up and looked at me, wiping tears from his face. I grabbed my knife and held it at the ready.
As Daddy opened his eyes, eyes that had once been so full of life and laughter, but were now milky-green and lifeless, I said quietly, "Daddy...I love you." He clucked his teeth at me and I quickly drove the blade deep into his ear, closing my eyes as he stilled and the noises stopped.
I let out a sob and whispered, as the tears flowed freely down my cheeks, "Daddy...I'm so sorry...I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I wish it had been me..." His lifeless body hit the floor as I removed the knife.I turned and walked out to the garage, unable and unwilling to look back.
About three weeks later...
"I'm hungry," came a whine from the tent. I rolled my eyes, sitting on the downed tree trunk across from the tent. My sister Claire's whining always got on my nerves but today was especially bad.
"There's some jerky in the cooler," I replied, sharpening my knife.
"I don't want jerky. I want a salad...and steak. That jerky is old and tastes like shit," she whined, poking her head out, her blonde hair tied into a long fishtail braid over her shoulder. I lowered my knife and stared at her, giving her my best glare.
"Claire - if you don't shut the hell up - " I started. She opened her mouth to argue.
"GIRLS!" Grace said from the stream across from our camp site. "There's no need to whine," she said, pointing to Claire, "or be mean," she said, glaring at me.
"Humph," I heard behind me. I turned to see Marc standing duty at the top of the embankment where we set up camp. It was his turn to keep watch. He turned and winked at me, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing about Claire. I smiled up at him.
Marc had been married to Grace for 10 years, and though he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, he certainly wasn't bad on the eyes: he stood at about 6'2" and was completely bald, despite only being in his 30s, and had these big, intense brown eyes. He was like a big brother to me from the start and we all adored him.
"Okay, these clothes are dry and ready. All the laundry is done," Grace said, returning to her tent to pack the clothes. We always kept the essentials packed and ready, just in case we had to run.
I watched as Grace came back out to the fire and admired my older sister. Despite everything going on, she tried to make every place we stopped feel like home. She washed clothes and dishes, tidied our tents, and kept everyone in line. She was the motherly type and she totally embodied it. She was the shortest in the family at only only 5'2", and had the same green eyes as Daddy, which all three of us inherited from him, but Grace was a little rounder than the two of us. She was beautiful, just like our mama.
I sighed and sheathed my knife, looking around at the trees, trying not to think about our parents or their horrible death.
We had been camping at this site for about five days and I found it odd that no biters had come by. A few had come through at the abandoned cabin we first inhabited after we left the suburbs and the two campsites in the woods after that. Every time we managed to escape unscathed, but instead of feeling relieved that we hadn't seen any, I felt uneasy. I couldn't sleep, even when Marc was on duty. I slept with one eye open afraid that at any moment we'd have to bolt.
Tyler came out of the tent and grabbed some jerky from the cooler and tossed it inside the tent to Claire. Despite all that had happened in the past few months, Tyler still managed to look like he just came from a GQ magazine shoot: tall, thick dark hair, gorgeous brown eyes, clean-cut, and very muscular. He was Claire's typical guy. I smiled at him. He'd grown on me in the past month. Even though Marc and I didn't trust him to keep watch (he wasn't handy with, well, anything), he did pull his weight around the camp, helping with dishes, laundry, cooking...I'd even been teaching him how to hunt. But his most important role was keeping Claire entertained.
Claire, however, really just pissed me off. All she did was whine about the heat, the hard ground, the food, and the lack of real showers. A week ago, I finally snapped and told her that I was sorry the apocalypse was so hard on her, that maybe the next time she can take refuge at a resort. Grace got mad at me and gave me lecture.
I got up from my spot on the log and walked to the fire to check the fish I had caught for dinner. "It's almost ready." I squatted down by the fire.
"Yay...dry, tasteless fish again," Claire muttered, finally making an appearance from the tent.
Claire and I were often mistaken for twins, as we looked so much alike, despite the two year age difference. We had the same blonde hair and green eyes, as well as the same facial features. The differences, though, were that Claire was 5'7" and I was 5'9", and I usually had a tan from being outside so much, where Claire was more fair-skinned. But the biggest difference of all was our personalities, which clashed more often than not.
"Don't eat it, then, Princess Claire," I said, standing and pointing the stick I was using to turn the fish on our makeshift grill over the fire. Grace shot me another look. "No, Grace, this is getting old. I wish she would just shut up and stop acting like a damn spoiled princess." I could feel my face getting red with anger. "We're all struggling to survive and she is acting like a freakin' brat!"
"I am not a brat!" she whined, coming to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips. "This has been really hard on me! I mean, no showers, no makeup, no decent food - "
"Seriously?!" I asked. "You have to be fu - "
"SHIT!" yelled Marc, "Biters! At least 18 of them!" He ran down the hill toward us, brandishing his knife.
I unsheathed my knife, feeling the weight of my handgun in my belt, and the tension rising in my stomach as I pushed Claire roughly toward Grace. Tyler ran out of the tent with his knife in hand, gun in his belt. "Remember," I told him, "try to use your knife so we don't draw the attention of others!" Marc ran down the hill and stood next to me and Tyler. I checked over my shoulder for my sisters and saw as Claire ran and stood next to Grace, their backs to the stream.
One biter came over the hill and fell, rolling down to my feet. I swung my arm down, bringing the knife to rest in his ear. More biters staggered down the hill, the smell of their rotting bodies filled my nostrils and I held my breath.
"Marc- you take the right and I'll take the left. Try not to let them too close to camp!" I hissed at him. "Tyler, you stay back and try and back us up." They both agreed with quick nods of their head as more biters made their way toward us, their shuffling gait making a few of them fall and roll down toward us.
My brain clicked over onto autopilot and I started fighting off biters, pushing one as others came close, swinging my knife with all my might into soft and hard skulls, depending on the state of rot. I could feel blood and chunks of matter splattering onto my clothes and skin, but I kept right on fighting, the need to protect myself and my family spurring me on. I could see Marc out of the corner of my eye, doing just the same.
As I killed the last one in front of me, I heard Claire's blood-curling scream from behind me. I whipped around in time to see a biter grab Tyler and sink his teeth into his neck, ripping muscle and flesh, blood spurting everywhere. Tyler screamed and his eyes closed. A second biter took a chunk from his leg.
"TYLER - NO!" I heard myself scream, my heart sinking as I saw him being attacked. Marc had one left to kill, so I ran over and stuck my knife in the head of the one biting his leg. Tyler's body fell to the ground. The one that got his neck lunged for me, knocking me down on top of Tyler. I pulled my knife hand free and brought it up, forcefully stabbing the back of his head. Blood and innards hit me in the face and I closed my mouth and eyes, and tried to push the now dead body off of me.
I could hear Claire screaming as Grace yelling at her, holding her back. I heard Marc's footsteps running over and the dead biter was lifted off of me. "Thanks," I muttered, as I sat up and quickly wiped my face on my sleeve, trying to clear my eyes and nose. Marc knelt down and used the bottom of his shirt to help me.
"Are you okay?" he asked, starting to check me for bites and scratches. "You're good?" he asked frantically.
"Yeah," I said, putting up my hand. "I'm good. I'm fine."
I looked over at Tyler, who was dead and laying next to me.
"Shit, Marc," I said, looking down at Tyler. "Not again," I said, a tear falling down my cheek. "Where did these ones come from?! We had them contained!" I punched the ground in anger and frustration.
"I think they came from the woods from behind him. They didn't get by us." He grabbed both of my shoulders and forced me to look into his eyes. "This is not your fault." My shoulders slumped in defeat. I could hear both of my sisters crying a few feet away and it broke my heart.
"I have to take care of him. I don't want him to turn. Claire doesn't need to see that," I said firmly, nudging his hands off of my shoulders and reigning in the tears. This was not a time to be weak. I needed to be strong for my sisters...for all of us.
"Want me to do it?" he asked. I shook my head and crawled to my knees next to his body. My stomach clenched again, the threat of vomit coming to the surface. I swallowed hard and resolved myself to the task at hand.
While Marc blocked me from Claire's sight, I took a deep breath and pushed my knife into the base of his skull. I leaned over his body and let a few tears fall, my outer walls crumbling briefly. "I'm sorry, Ty." I whispered. Grace let go of Claire, who came running over to Tyler and threw her body over his. She was sobbing and I rubbed her back for a second before standing up and letting her have her moment with her deceased boyfriend.
Grace walked over and hugged Marc, who pulled her head to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. I turned and made my way toward the creek to rinse my hands. As I squatted by the creek, I heard a twig snap. I jumped up and ran back over to my family, knife at the ready, scanning the area around us as I gestured for Claire to come to us. Grace put her arm around Claire as she ran over and Marc stood next to me, ready and waiting for another fight.
Five people came into sight; three women and two men. One woman was very thin and had long brown hair, one had shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, and the other had very short graying hair, one of the guys was Asian and the other was white...and pointing a crossbow at us. That really pissed me off.
I trained my eye on him, glaring at him and silently willing him to make a move.
"What the fuck?" asked the crossbow guy as he observed 18 dead biters, a dead guy, and the four of us.
"What the fuck is right," I replied.