ML54: Hey guys, MewLover54 here bringing you my first Walking Dead Fanfic!

Rick: Why have you decided to branch out?

ML54: Well I only just started watching it, but I really like it. A lot more than I thought I would.

Glen: *Rolls eyes* Gee, thanks.

ML54: Okay, as I said this is my first Walking Dead Fanfic so first I don't own it, but I do own my OC and the plotline.

Lost and Found

Running, that's all she could remember. Running from the monsters that once shared the hardships of this world with the rest of them, but now only caused it.

The blonde child glanced over her right shoulder, trying to keep the sun over it. No, wait, Mr. Rick might have said to keep it over her LEFT shoulder. What was she doing?! What did he say?!

She scanned the area behind her to find none of them there, but had no idea where she was. She looked forward after slowing down a bit. She wasn't going to stop fully though. Walkers could come from anywhere as she had experienced first hand with the sudden appearance of one coming for her under the car.

She knew she shouldn't have left the underside of the vehicle providing her cover, but she just wanted to get to her mother. Was it a crime to want to hold your mother? Was it punishment from God for the sins they'd committed on this Earth? To have them all stripped of those most important to them?

"Get a grip, Sophia!" She had berated herself in her head, not wanting to make noise for the undead to hear her. "This is easily solved, just turn back the way you came!"

Actually, that argument made a lot of sense. She had been running in one direction for the whole journey. So if she just retraced her steps, then she'd find her way back.

She stopped running and turned back. It was easy to spot where she had come from. She kept on the moist marsh land so was able to see the footprints she had left. She allowed a small smile. At least her cruel dad had taught her one useful thing while in the forests.

Her father, Ed Peletier, has hardly ever been a good father. In fact, he stopped being one when she turned seven. When he started drinking. But at least before then he taught her a couple of good tricks on how to get out of forests and marshlands.

"I guess I have one thing to be grateful for dad." She thought, bitterly. Five years, that man had hit her mom and insulted her. But those whacks and names weren't reserved for her mother. He had often applied the same treatment to his only child as well.

But, as nasty as he was, she'd be lying if she'd said she was happy that he was dead. It would be misleading to say she held no remorse. The truth of the matter was actually that she missed him a lot. He was tormentous, yes, but at least he was strong. Strong enough to help protect her and her mother from the walkers.

In fact, she may have never gotten lost if he HAD been alive. He might have yelled, in a hushed tone of course, to stay under there and threaten what he'd do to her if she didn't. The threat may have been scary, but no where near as scary as being alone in the forest.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes caught her attention and she hastened her step. She was pretty sure no-one from the group would have steered off this way to try and find her. Hell she was only gone a short while, to her anyway, so they may not even be looking yet.

Then her worst nightmare seemed to have come to life. A walker.

This walker resembled that of a women in an old nurse's outfit. Quite ironic if seen by most people and Sophia would have laughed had she not been so scared. It's decayed flesh hung loosely in ribbons on her arms and neck, suggesting that's where she had been bitten. From the look of the grey and dirty skin she looked to have been dead for a while.

For some reason, Sophia had frozen on the spot. Maybe it was because the walker had blocked off her trail, maybe it was the horrible hissing noise it made from it's damaged throat.

Adrenaline had suddenly kicked into action and, using her smaller build to her advantage, she ran right under the walkers thrown out arms, her hair narrowly missed being caught by it's claws. It's strange how, while living, we had fingernails. But if we turned, those nails got sharper and became claws.

It was almost as if they evolved the trait as they died so they could feast upon the living's flesh more efficiently. But the teeth remained relatively the same, true yellower and more rotten, but were held in their mouths strongly enough not to fall out.

Carl had once been in a discussion with her about that. Why, if they were decaying, did the teeth seem to be able to stay in their as they're feasting. If they bit into a person's skin, they'd need to apply quite a bit of pressure. Sophia, herself, had bit her dad in self defence. Her adult incisor had become loose after he pulled his arm away. Not even a hint of a scar. No blood.

She didn't know why she was thinking these things now of all times! She had to run! Before the walker could regain it's balance. She quickly found her footprints again and ran along them as fast as her tired feet would carry her.

Which, unfortunately, wasn't far. She'd tripped on what had appeared to be a piece of root from a tree. But if that was true, then why did it smell so bad.

She glanced back and was horrified to see that she had tripped over another walker that had appeared to have been sitting down. "I didn't see that one on the way here! I definitely would have noticed. Either my dad was right and I'm just an unobservant brat, or I went the wrong way!"

She noticed the leg under her's twitch and she fought to get up again. Using every ounce of strength she had left, she got herself up just as the nurse walker had pounced. In doing so the nurse accidentally took a bite out the sitting zombie.

As it turned out, the sitting zombie looked to be a red-neck of some kind. He was wearing a torn chequered shirt and torn jeans. He also had a hat that had fallen from him. In fact, said hat was right at her feet.

It was a simple baseball cap bought from any convenience store. Well, not so convenient now-a-days. It's front half was white and it's back half and eye guard was red. She thought for a moment, seeing the two tangled walkers, before shrugging and picking it up. Could be useful for keeping this stupid sun out of her eyes.

Then reality snapped back to her and she abandoned the two undead, picking up the simple, sown-up doll she had dropped in the fall and putting the cap on. Her hair fit nicely inside, she found. Now walkers will have less of her to grab.

"Where could she have gone?" She heard someone ahead say, incredulously. A familiar voice. "I told her to stay here or head back up, keeping the sun over her left shoulder." Mr Rick.

She facepalmed herself, so it WAS the left, not the right. Oh well, she didn't haste in bursting into the clearing, the group of four turned to her, raising their weapons in surprise.

In this group were a police sheriff uniformed man with dark hair and grey eyes. With him was a man with a crossbow with the same kind of complexion of dark hair as Rick, but his eyes were squinting most of the time so it was hard to distinguish his eye colour. Daryl.

Then there was another police dressed man with bushy brown air and matching brown eyes. Shane. Then lastly was a boy about her age and height. His hair a dark colour to match his dad, Rick's, and blue eyes. Carl.

She held up her hands, but still had the common sense to run away from the bushes behind her as fast as possible. This proved to be a sensible course of action as the two walkers from before had finally untangled themselves and had chased her.

She quickly hid behind Carl, her best and, well, only friend her age. Sure she felt guilty for trying to use him as a human shield. But he seemed to hold out his arms protectively anyway. He always wanted to be like his dad, to help people. Of course, this was probably not what he had in mind.

"Walkers!" Shane had exclaimed, pulling out a black shotgun and took aim, before Daryl held up his arm and swung his crossbow round his torso until it rested between his arms lovingly.

"Don' be stoopid Shane. Tha noise will attract more." He responded as he pulled the trigger to the crossbow. The arrow was fired from it's perch in the half open barrel of the crossbow and plugged itself into the red-neck walker's skull. It fell limply as the projectile struck.

One down, one to go.

"Ya know... my mama told me an' Merle not to hit women. Imma sure shed make an exception." He commented, sliding a knife from his belt and plunging it straight into the nurse's eye.

After that, he slid it out as the second lay still. Two down in complete silence, only the sounds of birds and crickets accompanying the faint squelch as Daryl retrieved his precious arrow from the re-killed carcass. He cringed at the look of the blackened blood on it and wiped it down on the nurse's scrubs.

She then saw that the four all turned and looked at her in relief and worry. An oxymoronic mixture of emotions to be feeling. "Are you okay, Sophia?" The blonde haired, green eyed girl who stood just a centimetre taller than the boy of the same age nodded.

"Yeah, why?" Shane approached next, touching her forehead lightly. She flinched back as a nasty sting accompanied his touch. Shane then pulled his index and middle fingers back and saw a familiar red substance oozing from them...

...okay oozing was a bit of an exaggeration. But any wound is serious now. They couldn't afford anyone getting too sick or be dying. They had enough things to worry about.

"How'd you get that cut? It's quite a nasty looking one." Sophia blinked then thought back. There was only one point were her forehead made contact with any surface.

"I-I tripped o-over o-one of the w-walkers when I ran b-back here." She explained, more shakily then she imagined her voice would come. She guessed it must have been the combination of fear and exhaustion that had caused this. Then all at once, as she remembered how long she was running, her legs gave out and she sat on her knees, gasping for air.

It's funny how your brain works. Like when you've cut yourself and you haven't noticed. The pain doesn't come until you've actually SEEN what you've done. Sophia, on the other hand, had only just realised how much screaming and running she had just went through now.

Carl got down on his knees next to her, obviously concerned by the look in his eyes. He put his arm round her back and helped her onto her feet again. They couldn't stay here. If more walkers came, then they were likely to get separated again. They only just found Sophia, the others were in no way going to go on a search party for FIVE missing group members.

Sophia had placed her foot down and cringed slightly. In confusion she glanced down and noticed that a splinter had lodged itself into her knee. It wasn't a big one and probably wouldn't even scar, but her body had been through so much already that Carl's nails seemed to have a powerful effect as he clamped his hand around the bottom of her armpit.

Daryl had taken the lead because he was a hunter. He knew wooded areas and following tracks like the back of his hand. Shane had taken to walking behind the group, ready to alert them if walkers came by and Rick stood by the two twelve-year olds just in case one got too tired to walk.

But Carl was ready to prove to his dad that he was capable of helping with searching. Of being able to help the group and defend them when necessary. How to kill a walker.

He had been aiming to kill one ever since his dad had left the group after only just getting back. He, Glen, Daryl and T-Dog were going after Merle after Rick had handcuffed him to the roof of a department store in Atlanta and T-Dog had dropped the key to the handcuffs down the drain.

Carl wanted to come and help, but was declined, saying it'd be too dangerous. But it had been just as dangerous staying in the camp as, the night they left, they were attacked by hoards of the walkers. They had lost Ed, Amy and Jim.

He hadn't seen Ed die personally. But wished he could have. The man was a bully. A mean man who always hurt Carol, Sophia's mom, and Sophia herself. He couldn't help but to resent the man for what he put his best friend through.

But Amy was a nice person. A sweet girl who had talked to him a few times. At one point he remembered her saying she'd teach him how to fish. Her and her sister Andrea. But she had went to the RV caravan to go to the bathroom. She had got out, complaining about the lack of toilet paper. That's when the walker bit her arm.

Sometimes Carl couldn't help but wonder if she'd still be alive if there had been toilet paper in the small bathroom. She'd be in there for another few minutes. Then she'd of heard all the screaming and locked herself in until it was over.

But of course, he can't turn back time and put new toilet roll in the RV bathroom and even if he could, he'd probably use that ability to warn people about the oncoming doomsday. Then no-one would have had to die.

Then there was Jim, Dale's friend who'd got bitten in his abdomen. No-one had seen it occur and were shocked when they saw it. They tried their best to get him to the CDC, determined to find him a cure. But he had told them he wanted to be left behind. He wanted to become one of them. Like the rest of his family.

But he had to remain focussed. He had literally had to beg to help to find his friend. The only other person in their group who could talk to him without sounding patronising or be talking down to him. His parents didn't count because they were family. Uncle Shane had been ignoring him recently. Glen was always a bit paranoid and so was sort of difficult to talk to. T-Dog didn't really talk to him much. Dale has been keeping a birds eye view on Andrea. Andrea herself was depressed. Daryl was always a bit of a loner and felt uncomfortable when talking to him. Carol was nice but all her time was spent with Sophia.

Once upon a time they had fives others with them as well. The Morales family. They consisted of a father, who went by Morale, his wife Miranda and their two children, Eliza and Louis. They had decided to leave the group in search of somewhere other than the CDC. They didn't seem convinced that there was anything there.

Lastly there was Jacqui. She remained in the CDC with Dr. Jenner as the building ran out of it's main power supply and back-up power. When that went, the whole building went kaput and they died a painless death. They had gotten out because they believed they could survive out there.

And Carl was thankful that they found Sophia, otherwise that hope would have vanished. Sure, she wasn't used to being on her own and had no way of defending herself. But Dr. Jenner wanted a quick and painless death for both Carl and her, them being children. He believed it'd be a mercy killing. But they wanted to live, as did most of the group.

He was so into his thoughts that he didn't notice that they'd made it back to the highway where everyone was gathering supplies. Well, everyone except the short, grey haired women watching the wooded area they just emerged from. Carol.

"SOPHIA!" She called in relief, running down with her arms out to the sides. Sophia looked up and tears could be seen threatening to spill from her irises. Carl smiled, knowing what it's like to have been reunited with a family member you never thought you'd see again. It felt like something in this torn world was right. That maybe there was a God looking down on them in...well he wasn't sure. It could have been pity and it well could have been anger. Or maybe the lord had a twisted sense of humour.

Carl let go of her as she dashed up the brief, grassy hill and into her mother's awaiting arms. "MOMMY!" Sophia cried, wrapping her arms around her mother. As Carol embraced her child, the only real family she had left, the joy of it suddenly overwhelmed her and she let her own tears fall. She embraced her flesh, blood and spirit, happy that's what she still was and wept.

Not noticing what was approaching.

"WALKER!" Carl shouted to the two girls, Daryl and the rest only just getting out of the woodland. He was sent forward while Daryl caught a squirrel. Carol's eyes shot open and stared into the milky irises of a man in a navy uniform limping towards pair.

Carol quickly turned and was ready to take the bite for her baby. She only just got back after being hunted by undead and didn't deserve to be eaten all the same.

"Daryl! Take the shot! Our gun's jammed!" Dale yelled to the only other person who had a weapon that wouldn't make noise. A hoard only just walked past and didn't want them coming again.

"I can' get a good shot. I need to get closer!" He responded, running up the hill, but was grabbed by another walker that was playing dead on the hill. "Son of a bitch!" Daryl screamed out in fustration, kicking his opposition away.

Time seemed to slow down for Sophia as her mother had dropped her and told her to run. She had seen the walker behind her and felt she needed to do something. But what could she do.

Carol turned back to face the walker, it being no more than two metres now. Lunging distance.

"NO!" Daryl shouted, pulling his knife out and stabbing the walker that was pinning him up the chin and into the brain, killing it. He ran forward to try and save the women who'd taken a lot of shit during this trip from her husband. Now that she's free of Ed, Daryl had promised to himself that he'd make sure she and Sophia enjoyed their lives without him.

But he couldn't possibly line up a shot that quickly. He'd have to be Robin Hood on fucking LSD to make that shot!

Just as the walker was about to jump, it was tackled to the ground by someone new. When the walker finally knew what was going on, it was to late and it had it's head caved in by a pipe.

This new person stood up and brushed off his jacket. He was the same kind of build as Daryl with the muscle volume, but he was wearing a black, leather jacket that he had zipped up to the collar. He also wore black, leather trousers and black combat boots.

Carol was surprised when she wasn't dead, her daughter clinging to her like a rope for the second time in ten minutes. She glanced at the new person that had just saved her life as the whole group had made their way over to stare at him, unsure what to make of it.

The person turned to reveal a middle-aged man, bald and sunglasses. Shane narrowed his eyes. "Who're you?" He inquired, raising his gun to point it in this strangers direction. Pumping the shotgun ready. The stranger raised his arms in defence.

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy there, cowboy! You could hurt someone with that thing!" Shane's eyes narrowed further, stepping forward to point the barrel at his face.

"I'll be doing a lot more than just hurting you if you don't give us your name!" Shane spat back, obviously in some sort of bad mood. Rick had quickly snatched the gun off of Shane and glared at him.

"Are you really going to treat a guy who just saved Carol's life, like that?!" Rick reprimanded, chucking the gun back to Dale, who caught it and put it in a pack with the rest of their weapons.

"Oh it's alright. I'd be suspicious too if some random guy just came out of no where to kill a limper." The man caught the groups confusion and laughed. "Oh sorry. That's what my group calls these things..."

"...Yeah and we call them walkers." Rick answered back. "Why do you call them limpers?"

"Well a lot of them have a limp when they walk. We did think about calling them walkers, but thought that they weren't all walking. Most of them were limping." The man took off his sunglasses and wiped his forehead to reveal a pair of milky, white eyes.

"As for my name. I'm Denise McCoy, the blind limper killer!" The man declared in pride.

ML54: What do you guys think? If you liked it, review. If you think it needs work, review. But please don't flame me.