Author's Note: Well hey there everybody! If you're returning to my writing, I wanna say a big WELCOME BACK and if you're new to this then have a big HELLO! Either way, I hope you enjoy where I'm going with this story (set in the third season of the show, if you haven't figured that out already) and I appreciate any reviews/messages that you want to send. Anyway, big thanks to everyone coming here to read this, I look forwards to hearing your feedback =)

The light had faded fast, plunging them into darkness as the walkers had approached. There had been shouts of confusion, screams of terror and cries for help before engines had roared to life and they had made their escape... All except for Lizzie.
"Guys?" She called frantically, her voice echoing in the woods surrounding her, "Hey, guys!"
She spun around, squinting into the inky blackness, trying to make out a shape, any shape, that she might recognise. She flailed out wildly, trying to catch hold of somebody, anybody, as her heart began to pound.

"Daryl?" She shrieked, her voice catching in her throat as the emotion began to wash over her.
As she swung her arm around in front of her, she felt it connect with something. As she flexed her fingers, she realised she was holding a shirt of some kind and she felt a small stab of hope hit her heart.
"Daryl? That you?" She asked shakily, trying to draw them in closer so she could get a better look.
No sooner had she leant in to try to identify her companion, she heard the sound of a snarl rising in their throat and the familiar stench of rotting flesh clogged her nostrils- she'd grabbed hold of one of the walkers.

Letting out a strangled cry, she quickly drew her hand away and spun on her heel, making a break for it while she still could. Running through the darkened woods wasn't the best idea she'd ever had but it sure as hell beat standing there until she was eaten alive.
Shit, how many of those things were there? She asked herself as she ran, her hands splayed out before her, pushing herself away from the trees as she felt them beneath her fingertips, which way were we even goin'? Hell, which way did we even come from?
She let out a yelp as her foot caught on something- maybe a root or a fallen branch, she wasn't sure- and she went down hard, narrowly avoiding smashing her face into the ground.
An' where the fuck did everybody go? She let out a quiet sob as she pushed herself upright, feeling a twinge of pain shoot through her leg as she took a step forwards.

She took a moment to rest, leaning on a tree as she lifted her injured leg, trying to rotate her ankle gently to fight the pain. When she heard shuffling feet approaching her she knew it was time to move on.
C'mon Lizzie, time to fuckin' move! She couldn't keep her previous pace, the pain in her leg shooting through her at every step, and she began to stumble blindly, biting her tongue to stop herself from shouting out- not that it mattered, the walkers had her scent and they would follow her until they caught her...

Why is it always me that gets left behind? She thought viciously, her bottom lip beginning to tremble with a mixture of hurt and anger. She stopped again, scrunching her eyes shut and biting the inside of her lip.
Not now, she reminded herself, scowling in the dark, survive now, cry later.
With those words of encouragement to herself, she set off again, moving as quickly as her injured leg would allow.

After what seemed like a lifetime of limping furiously through the darkness, the snarls and ragged breathing of the walkers that pursued her never too far behind, Lizzie stopped and squinted- there was a light flickering up ahead.
As she frowned with concentration, she realised that the light was coming from a window- there was an abandoned house hidden in the woodland and someone had raised the corner of a curtain, peering out into the darkness with what looked like a candle in their hand.
"Sonofabitch," Lizzie muttered, recognising the silhouette at the last minute before it disappeared back behind the curtain, leaving only a faint glow to help guide her towards her destination, "jus' you wait 'til I get to you Daryl Dixon, boy, are you gonna regret runnin' off an' leavin' me!"

She hobbled forwards, picking up the pace as much as she could, grinding her teeth against the pain as she tried to put some distance between her and her followers. Without warning, she felt her leg slam into something heavy and she let out a startled cry as she fell forwards, again, into the darkness. She found herself draped over the back of Daryl's motorcycle, having bumped into it in her hurry, and she struggled to wriggle her body to the floor so she could push herself upright again.
After brushing herself down hurriedly and cursing the man she loved, she made her way towards what she hoped was the front of the house and pulled herself up the steps, using the railing to take the weight off her leg as best she could.

She paused for a second outside the screen door, trying to level her breathing- she knew her man was in there but he might not be alone, the last thing she wanted to do was charge in unannounced, breathing like an asthmatic cheetah. When she felt she had better control over her heart-rate, she pulled the screen open quietly and tried the door, wincing as it creaked at the sudden movement.
When it was open enough for her to slip through, she eased herself inside, letting the door close behind her and leaning on it for a few seconds, listening as carefully as she could for any sound of the approaching walkers. When none reached her ears and no unwanted visitors tried to force their way inside, she let her arms drop and turned around, blinking viciously as if it would help her eyes adjust to the darkened interior.

Y'always knew the day'd come when you wished you'd eaten your carrots, she thought with a faint smile.
As she looked around her immediate surroundings, she thought she could see a small table next to the door- a closer inspection with her fingers proved her observation correct and she pulled at it gently, dragging it in front of the door and pushing it right up against the wood.
Ain't gonna stop the army of darkness gettin' inside, but at least I get a heads up if they try, she thought as she shrugged, turning around again and taking a tentative step forwards.

"Liiiiiiiizzieeeeeee..." She let out a gasp as the whisper echoed through the dark corridors and she froze, the hairs beginning to stand up on the back of her neck as she saw the faint, flickering glow of a candle from the end of the hallway.
"Daryl?" She called tentatively, "Baby, if you're tryna gimme a scare, you're doin' it right, okay?"
She watched as the glow began to diminish, as if Daryl (was it even Daryl she was speaking to?) was walking away from her, and faltered for a second before she began to cautiously follow the light, keeping her right hand pressed against the wall as she tried to will herself to walk properly, rather than take baby steps.
"I swear to God if it's you I'm gonna kill you dead for freakin' me out." She muttered angrily.

"Liiiiiiiizzieeeeeee..." She began to walk a little faster, trying to keep up with the light so she wouldn't find herself plunged into darkness again.
When she reached the end of the hall, she turned left into what appeared to be the sitting room, gazing around at the dark shapes of the furniture, straining her eyes to make sure nothing was moving around them. When she was sure that there was nothing more sinister lurking in the shadows, she began to pick her way carefully across the room, keeping her left hand pressed against the wall as best she could.
Hope nothin' goes jumpin' out at me now, she thought, feeling the weight of her axe on her back and the small sheath that she now carried on her belt, holding a knife, everythin's on my good side an' my good hand is kinda occupied...

A scraping noise reached her ears and she stopped, her heart pounding in her chest as she held her breath- the fuckin' door! A few seconds of painful silence passed before she heard the first telltale sounds of the undead approaching- there was a rasping breath followed by a strangled moan and, as they pushed their way through the door, their uneven footsteps echoed down the hall towards her.
"Oh shit." She whispered, weighing up her options quickly- she couldn't turn back, the walkers were behind her, and if she went further into the house, she could find herself trapped...

A bump from above her head snapped her back to her senses and she frowned as she glared at the ceiling. Better go an' find out what my dumb-fuck of a boyfriend is playin' at an' if he's gotta plan to get the hell outta here before we get eaten alive.
Lizzie took a deep breath, nodded to herself and began to move- her leg was still aching with each step but she couldn't afford to let that slow her down, not now they were in the house with her. She'd lost the light, Daryl had already made it up the stairs without her but as she rounded the corner she realised the stairs were to her left- the corridor before her must have lead to the kitchen or a bathroom, she didn't bother taking a look, she needed to find her man.

She scrabbled up the stairs, taking them at a crawl so she could use her hands, easing the weight from her leg and making her progress a lot quicker- she was certain the walkers had made it to the sitting room, it wouldn't be long until they found the stairs and followed her scent.
When she reached the top, she pushed herself upright and scanned the doors in front of her before she turned around and smiled- she could see a faint glow coming from the other end of the hall, where there was only one door.
Bingo, she thought with a smile, inching around the rail at the top of the stairs as she limped towards the light.

"Daryl?" She hissed as she pushed the door open, peering inside, "Daryl, we gotta go, we got company..."
As she stepped inside, she stopped. Daryl was standing in front of the window, staring out into the darkness, seemingly oblivious to her presence.
"Daryl?" She frowned when he didn't move at all, "Daryl, areya even listenin' to me, we gotta go!"
"We ain't goin' anywhere." He said quietly, his voice sounding unusually rough.
"What the hell're you talkin' about?" She said, exasperated, as she took a step towards him, "there're walkers in the house, we need to move..."
She reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder, drawing it back quickly as she felt something damp on his shirt. She squinted at her hand, not sure what it was that she was looking at. Daryl appeared to be turning around and the candle he held illuminated the blood that covered her fingers.

"Jesus Daryl, you're bleedin'! Are you...?" She began, feeling the panic rising inside her at the thought of him being bit. She raised her head and looked up at him, the concern etched on her face.
When she saw his greying skin beginning to decay, loose flaps peeling from his face, exposing the white of his skull, she opened her mouth to scream but the sound got caught in her throat.
"Ain't goin' anywhere Lizzie," he repeated, smiling ghoulishly in the candlelight, "'cept maybe to hell."

She tried to push him away but he was too quick, grabbing her arms and dragging her towards him as he lowered his head towards hers. She let out a choked sob and tried to turn away, not wanting this thing to touch her, wondering what had happened to the man she had loved, when he had turned without her knowing.
"Daryl, please...!" She began, the tears flowing down her cheeks.
"Too late baby, too late, you did this, you gotta live with it, you gotta die for it..." He snarled as he sunk his teeth into her neck.

Lizzie tried to scream but her throat was filled with blood and all she could do was gurgle in protest as she felt the life slipping away from her...