Camping

-1-

This was not supposed to happen.

Patrick Campman's motto was "Stick to the plan". Always was since he was a boy, when his father used to take him hunting. It was the sentence that now rang in his head like alarms as his sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel. The first plan had been to go to Atlanta, to buy Adam a new tent after his old one got ripped.

The Campman family always took an annual week-long camping trip; Patrick's father used to take him every year, as did Patrick's father and grandfather. They were a natural outdoors people, and took a great enthusiasm to hunting and camping out deep in the woods. It was often a joke that they changed their last names to Campman to reflect on this. Patrick always looked forward to it.

But today, something went horribly wrong. They came right out of the blue, those crazed people that attacked and bit people. Luckily, Patrick wasn't like the people screaming for help, acting like sitting ducks. He was smart, and made a second plan. Despite the chaos, he didn't want Tess and the kids running around like wild game. He saw what happened to those who were running around.

So, he made a second plan. He got everyone in the station wagon. He got the food that they were saving for the camping trip. He got them straight out of the city.

Tess was still sobbing, but quietly this time. She was murmuring things like, "Oh, God" and "What happened to those people?" Elizabeth was shaky, and constantly asking questions that only a precocious nine year old would ask in this kind of situation. Adam was strangely quiet. He was looking out the window.

Stick to the plan, Patrick, Dad said in his memory. Only, in his memory, Patrick was following Dad through the woods, chasing a deer. Here, it was Patrick driving to somewhere safe.

"Patrick, please," Tess said softly, her eyes still shining. "Please, tell me what happened…j-just give me some sort of…explanation, or something…"

Patrick glanced at his wife, his brow hitching up at her apparent distress. His right hand broke away from the wheel and clasped Tess' hand in his. "I don't know, honey."

Tess wiped away some of her tears. "I just – I need an explanation right now. I need something t-to give reason to what I just saw." Her voice was steadier, but Patrick could still hear the horror in it. He squeezed her hand harder, fighting back the urge to freak out himself.

"I-I don't know, Tess. I can't do anything. I can't do anything about what happened," he said grimly. "I can…I can drive us to safety. We're going to the campgrounds. That's what we'll do."

"But what if there's more of…those people?" Tess whispered, as to not distress the already-frightened children. "We don't know how big this is, Pat."

"Why aren't we going home?" Elizabeth asked timidly, her hazel eyes big. "I want to go home. We have to go get Elmer."

"Patrick, Elizabeth is right. We have to go home. We have to get our things."

"Tess, you know we live just outside of Atlanta." Patrick paused as a police cruiser passed him. It struck him odd that it was driving away from the city and not towards it, but it didn't matter. "And we live in a close-together neighborhood. For all we know, there could be those…cannibal things there, too."

Elizabeth's mouth quivered. She sat forward, straining against her seat belt. "Daddy, we have to go back to Elmer," she pleaded. "Please, Daddy."

Adam, who had been staring at the police car ahead of them in the next lane over, decided to speak. "Lizzy, Daddy said no. So that means you have to stop asking. Elmer's going to be okay."

Elizabeth's head snapped over towards her brother. "You liar! We have to get Elmer, Daddy. Mommy said so, we have to go get Elmer! He's not safe, we have to go get him!"

"He's just your stupid cat!" Adam shot back, his face contorted with childish anger. "He's okay! He's just a stupid cat!"

"He's not a stupid cat he's Elmer and he's not okay that's why we have to turn around right NOW!" Elizabeth screamed. Tears made her eyes blurry.

"STOP IT, BOTH OF YOU, RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" Tess interrupted. The two children abruptly stopped. Their eyes were wide and staring at their mother, shocked by the outburst.

Tess drew a few strands of her hair back, lightly sniffling. "Patrick, please. Please, let's just go back to the house and wait this out." Her voice was almost unheard over a couple of police cars wailing down towards Atlanta.

Patrick had been silent and nearly stone-still. He had tried to remain concentrated, but his children's squabbling had been distracting. Tess' intervention definitely helped, as Lizzy and Adam were quiet. He always wondered how he never had the strength to do that – to yell at his kids for doing something wrong. Tess was a master at that. But he supposed that even if he had such strength, he wouldn't be wasting it on telling the kids to stop fighting. He needed to reserve his strength to keep the plan together.

"Patrick," Tess said softly when he didn't answer. "Please. Turn around. Take us back."

Patrick gritted his teeth. Part of him argued that the plan was to go to the campgrounds, where it would be secluded – an advantage to picking a relatively unknown spot every year. But the other part of him told him to look at his family, scared and tense, and to give them the comfort they desperately needed.

"Okay. Okay, I'll take the turn ahead," Patrick murmured. He had a bad feeling in his gut for some reason, but he wasn't always one to trust instinct. He thought himself to be logical and always thinking ahead, and so he did so. Going back to the house was a good call on some points, such as being able to keep up on news updates and having anything they needed to keep themselves safe on-hand. But the biggest drawback was that it was too close to Atlanta for him to totally agree to the notion. But Tess and the kids wanted to go home, and it was his job as a parent to make his family feel safe.

"Dad, that's a lot of cars over there," Adam suddenly said. He had resorted to going back to watching out the window again. "A lot of police cars. And a helicopter."

He had been speaking the truth. A whole squad of police cruisers and SWAT vans roared down the opposite lane. Patrick could tell that things were quickly getting worse, and he was seriously starting to think second thoughts on agreeing to go back to the house.

He decided to voice his doubt to his wife. "Look, Tess, I don't know if this is such a good idea."

Tess had been focusing on a distant point in the horizon, perhaps another car or a sign. Her jaw was set as she replied, "Patrick, you agreed to take us home."

"I know," Patrick started, uncertain and not wanting any conflict. "But didn't you see all those police cars? The SWAT, the helicopter? Going towards the city?"

"We don't live in the city."

"We live close enough."

"They're the police, they'll handle it."

Patrick opened his mouth, but no response came to him. He supposed that was plausible enough. The authorities were supposed to keep them safe, and one was supposed to believe in that. But there were SWAT teams and a helicopter, most likely the news reporters. When they had left the department store, the chaos looked to be confined to at least a block or two. But the police were sending a whole armada. That didn't mean anything good to Patrick. But he didn't want to scare his family any more than they already were.

Suddenly, the silhouette of a person staggered over from the opposite lane, trudging through the grass and into the road.

"What is that person doing?" Tess wondered aloud, leaning forward a bit to see. Patrick was wondering as well, but his thoughts soon shifted into the question of why the person wasn't stopping.

He was going to walk straight into the police car ahead of them.

"Oh no, oh God—" Tess managed to get out before the cruiser collided with the person in a sudden and violent fashion. There was a spray of blood and the car swerved before it ran straight into the metal rail. It rammed straight through it and rolled down into the forest, the thunder of metal screaming and glass shattering ringing through Patrick's ears.

He stomped on the brakes, and the station wagon screeched to a stop. Patrick instantly got out and looked up to see a column of smoke rising from the crash. He hurried over to the broken rail and leaned over.

The cruiser was on its side, driver's seat facing up. He could see the body of the person not too far off, and at first Patrick thought him to be dead, due to the fact that his body was bent and broken beyond repair.

However, Patrick was quickly proved wrong when the body twitched, then proceeded to stand up. A faint raspy growl was heard, and Patrick's fears were instantly confirmed.

The driver's door popped open, and out came an older policeman. He groaned as he climbed out, but he seemed to be fine.

"H-hey!" Patrick called out, his bones starting to tremble. "Hurry, come on up!"

The policeman scrunched up his brow, and he shook his head vaguely. He seemed to be in a daze. "Sorry, what?" He replied, his voice uneven.

The person, the thing, was now staggering towards the cruiser, circling around the hood.

"Hurry, come on!" Patrick's voice was louder, but it was wavering. He knew what was going to happen, unless the policeman reacted fast enough. He didn't want to see this.

The policeman finally acknowledged the existence of the cannibal behind him. He jumped at the sight of it, and he rested a hand on his belt. Extending his other hand out, he said, "Listen now, don't you – don't you come closer! Freeze! Stop!"

Of course, the cannibal thing shambled on, his jagged arms reaching out for the policeman.

"Run!" Patrick yelled, but the policeman did no such thing. He instead whipped out his gun and started shooting at his attacker. For every shot the thing took to the chest, it jolted back but continued on until a whole clip was emptied into his torso.

The policeman hurried away towards the trunk. He threw it open and drew out his shotgun. At once, the policeman fired into the thing, and it flew backwards. But it got up.

"No, no!" The policeman screamed as he continued shooting, buckshot flying into the cannibal's body but never downing it. He circled around to the other side and began to reload, but he tripped. His gun and his last round went flying in opposite directions, and the cannibal was gaining on him.

The policeman jumped up and ran away from the car. Patrick was relieved that he might've had a chance of safety, until another cannibal lurched out of the trees and onto the policeman. At once, it leaned its head back and clamped its jaws on the policeman's neck.

Patrick's blood ran cold as the policeman screamed and cried out. He ran around, trying to shove away his attackers in vain. But the two cannibals ganged up on him, and the policeman was down.

A strangled cry caught in Patrick's throat as he witnessed the pure viciousness in which the cannibals attacked the policeman. Why hadn't the one that had been shot at died? It kept getting up over and over, and now it was kneeling over the man who had shot at him.

Suddenly, a shrill scream rang out from the distance. It was faint, but added to the gruesome and macabre atmosphere that the scene possessed. The two monsters looked up in unison, aroused by the scream. They both struggled to a stand before lurching towards the source, leaving the policeman's mangled corpse behind. Patrick watched them, feeling sweat beading on his brow. He swallowed on nothing and forced himself to turn around.

So it had spread from the city. The police weren't going to take care of this. Those things wouldn't die, and ammunition would be wasted on their killers. It was that moment when Patrick realized that this morning was the last time he and his family would've seen their house ever again.

He felt light and woozy as he walked back to the station wagon and sat in the driver's seat. Tess, Lizzy, and Adam were all looking at him.

"Pat…what happened?" Tess asked quietly. Her skin had paled. "I heard gunshots."

"Daddy, did the monsters get the police?" Lizzy asked, on the verge of tears.

Adam was silent, but his shoulders trembled.

Patrick took a very long time to answer. He blinked a lot, but he shoved all other signs of the pure terror that ran in his blood into the back of his mind.

"We're not going home." He finally managed to say. Nobody said anything, but they seemed to understand.

Patrick started to drive once more, quite aware of the stifling horror in the car. Tess' gaze was fixed on the road, and the kids were silent. Before long, they were not the only ones on the road, as more and more cars drove past them. Patrick was sure that their intents were on escaping.

Today was a new day, full of things that Patrick would have never expected. Thinking of the days that would follow frightened him to the core. He was not used to being the deer that he and his father once tracked.

This was not supposed to happen.

Woo, a Walking Dead fanfic about CAMPMAAAAAAAN

I don't know, his character just intrigued me, so I made this. This story will follow my interpretation of the events of the game through Campman's (or should I say, Patrick's) eyes. I imagine this will be fun, and I hope those who decide to read it find some enjoyment in it. If there are any valid errors, please let me know!