Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

A/N: Hey guy's, I'm back with a new story, based off the TV series The Walking Dead. I love this series so much I decided to make a story on it, so I hope you enjoy. :D

Lost Hope: The Beginning

Chapter One

"I heard more stories about the disease again today at school." I told my uncle as we sat and ate dinner together like we always do.

"Yeah, I've been hearing some crazy stories about it at work too." My uncle was a doctor at a hospital in Atlanta, Georgia. I've lived alone with my uncle since both my parents died three years ago in a car accident. We live in a tall apartment building right in the middle of the city on the forty-fifth floor, so we get an amazing view of down town Atlanta.

My name is Erin Johnson. I'm eleven years old and in the fifth grade. I have long black hair, and brown eyes. My father was a U.S marine and my mother was a nurse from Brazil. My dad met her when he was sent there on a retreat and they fell in love and soon had me. After that we moved around a lot because of my dad's job. I grew up learning English, Portuguese, and Spanish. My mom homeschooled me because we never really stayed in a place long enough for me to be in school.

My dad wasn't around a lot but when he had time off we would play constantly. Most of the time we would pretend that I was a soldier like my dad, and he would be a civilian who I would end up saving in the end. Sometimes my mom would join in as a civilian too. Dad had also taught me how to shoot guns when I was old enough to learn. When I turned nine my dad's job took us to California. One night my parents wanted to go out to eat on a date and left me home with one of my dad's friends to watch over me, but they never made it back. That was when I was told they were in an accident and died instantly when a semi truck driver hit them head on. After that my dad's brother was kind enough to take me in and treat me as if I was his own. So I lived in Atlanta ever since and also started going to a real school.

Recently there had been stories going on of a strange disease going around that would make people go crazy and eat people. At first I didn't believe it because it sounded so fake; something that would be on a horror movie, but the stories were escalating and beginning to attract even more media attention, so it made me begin to wonder if this was something that was actually happening.

"Do you believe it; the stories going around?" I asked my uncle after taking another bite of my pizza. It was Friday night. We always ate pizza on Fridays and have movie night. It was kind of like our own little tradition that we started soon after I began living with him.

"Yeah, I am beginning to think that it is real, even though it seems very unrealistic, but I'm sure it's nothing you have to be worried about. I haven't heard of any cases of the disease from Atlanta and I'm sure it wouldn't be long before they find a cure.

"Yeah." I mumbled.

"Anyway, what movie are you thinking you want to watch tonight?" my uncle asked smiling. I love movies and he knew that they always brighten my mood. I had always wanted to make movies when I got older as a career.

I smiled back at him. "Hmm, let's see. How about Step Up 3?" I love dancing as well so this movie was one of my favorites.

My uncle laughed. "Alright, Step Up 3 it is. Why don't you go set it up? I will be there in a sec after I clean up the kitchen."

"Alright!" I bounded up from my chair and went into the living room. I got the movie out and placed it in the DVD player. "Oh can you make popcorn too, please?"

"Of course!" my uncle said. "What is a movie without popcorn?"

Soon we were both sitting on the couch watching the movie with a big bowl of popcorn. Suddenly, during the movie, my uncle's cell phone went off. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller id.

"Hey, sorry I have to take this. I will be right back." he told me walking out of the room. A few minutes later he came back with a scared look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked starting to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I have to go. Something came up at work." He told me not answering my question.

"Okay, when will you be back?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but whatever you do not leave the apartment till I get back. Do not open the door to anyone unless it is me. Do you understand me?" he asked me looking straight into my eyes.

"Yes." I nodded. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry about it. I am sure everything will be alright." He walked to the door and grabbed his coat and keys. I walked up beside him and he knelt down in front of me. "Remember; don't leave the apartment and don't open the door."

"Okay." I answered.

My uncle kissed my forehead. "I love you, Erin. Be safe."

Then he got up and left. I stood at the door for several minutes before returning back to the movie. I began to hear a lot of honking and sirens outside that came from fire trucks, and police cars rushing by. After awhile I began to hear other people who lived in the apartments start yelling and running all over the place. It sounded like they were all leaving in a rush. Maybe there is a fire. Wait no, the smoke alarms would be going off.

After about an hour of people running back in forth through the halls, it seemed to have calmed down and actually become rather quiet in the building. There was no sound of sirens or honking nearby anymore. I was still able to hear some sirens from farther off in the city. I walked up to the window and looked down. There were no cars passing by the building at all. The streets were oddly quiet.

I went back to the movie to see the ending, trying to push out all thoughts that something bad had happened. The movie ended and I took it out and put it back into its case. Maybe it was a terrorist attack kind of like the nine-eleven. No, stop thinking like that, it is probably nothing too serious.

I walked into my room and lay down on the bed. Maybe I would be able to sleep through all the weird stuff going on. Soon after that I was asleep.

I woke suddenly to the sounds of what sounded like war sirens. I had heard them a few times when I was with Dad, but those were all just tests, never the real thing. It was two in the morning. I was beginning to get scared. Maybe it really was terrorist attacks. I decided to call my uncle. He would know what was going on.

I picked up the phone and quickly dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail.

I began to speak after the tone. "Hi, Uncle Sam, weird things have been happening around here. When are you going to get back? Please call me as soon as you get this message. Okay?" Then I hung up.

I waited for what seemed like an hour and there was still no reply. The sirens were still ringing loud throughout the city. Then I heard thundering-like sounds that made the ground shake. Sounded like bombs being dropped. I ran to the window and looked out there were helicopters flying around farther up town from what I could see, and they were dropping bombs on some building that I couldn't see from back where I was.

I backed away from the window and ran into the bathroom with the phone. I went into the shower and sat down with my knees to my chest. I was very scared. Nothing like this had ever happened before. I dialed my uncle's number again, and again; each time leading straight to voice mail.

"Please come back. I'm scared. There are people dropping bombs on a building. I don't want to be alone. Please call me back or answer or something!" I yelled to the answering machine.

I stayed in the shower the rest of the night. The bombs had resided only an hour after they had begun and the siren had gone off, but there was still no reply from my uncle. The streets were still quiet and empty. My uncle has never left me alone for a whole night before. Something was wrong. I decided to try calling my uncle one last time. Maybe this time he will actually answer.

I dialed the numbers and hit call, but this time instead of getting the answering machine it just beeped like phones do when they get disconnected. Maybe I should call the police. I dialed 9-1-1 and it had the same results. It just beeped. I set the phone down and climbed out of the shower. I looked out the window; still nothing. Maybe I should ride my bike down to the hospital. Wait my uncle told me to stay here.

Suddenly the power went out in the apartment building. The lights switched off, the air conditioner came to a stop, and the refrigerator stopped running. I would have normally obeyed my uncle and stayed in the house, but this was different. Something was terribly wrong and something in the back of my head was telling me that I couldn't stay here.

I decided to pack a bail-out pack in case I would not be coming back. It is something my dad told me to do if there ever was a serious situation possibly involving terrorist attacks. It would be small enough for me to carry around for a long time and provided what I would need to survive a few days. Maybe I was getting too carried away with the whole situation, but I was scared, and when people are scared they can sometimes over exaggerate the situation more than needed.

I packed some water bottles, a few granola bars, my iPod, my uncle's pocket knife that he used when he would take me hunting during the fall, and his pistol that he would keep in his nightstand beside his bed. I made sure to put extra bullets in the bag just in case. My uncle would probably punish me for taking the gun because normally I wouldn't be allowed to touch it at all, but I was too scared to care about that at the time. What would I do if a cop catches me with these things; an eleven year old with a knife and pistol, wandering the streets alone on a bike. I would, with no doubt, be grounded for a month, but I wouldn't mind. I just wanted to see my uncle alive and well, to tell me everything is alright.

I grabbed my bike and opened the front door of the apartment and stepped out into the dark hallway. I walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. Oh, right, there's no power. I opened the door to the stairs and began walking down, my bike by my side and my bag on back.

It wasn't easy taking a bike down forty-five flights of stairs, but I finally managed to reach the bottom. I walked out onto the empty streets and got on my bike, riding towards the hospital, which was only about a mile away.

No one was out walking and no one was driving by; I was completely alone. I continued riding my bike and I started to smell an awful stench as I neared the hospital. Smelt worst then rotting food, or a dead animal. I also smelt a mixture of smoke in the air. I turned the corner and there it was the hospital; or the remains of it.

My heart sunk to my stomach.

"Uncle Sam?"

A/N: Hey guy's. I know it's not interesting quite yet, but I promise it will get more and more interesting as the story continues. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. :D