Breann Mac Cúg was a strong, thick-headed, red-headed, Irish woman who could conquer anything, except the undead. The "bloody deadies", as she referred to them, were something she had never expected. She had lived in Ireland all of her life and she had been on her own, learning to survive since she was eight, but nothing could prepare her for the way the world changed. She had worked all of her life to get a visa so that she could move to the country her father had told her endless stories about and just as she landed in Georgia the dead began to rise from their graves.
Climbing out of a taxi in Atlanta she saw a man with his throat ripped open. There was blood covering his clothes and all of his exposed skin, yet he was still stumbling around as if he jumped straight out of a terrible sci-fi movie. When the man saw her, he started running towards her, his mouth open wide as if he was anticipating a mouthful of flesh. That's when she realized that it was truly the end of the world and the radios hadn't been lying. Five weeks ago, she had escaped the clutches of that undead man only to find herself alone, trapped in the supply closet of the Mert County Department of Public Works building. The two dozen deadies were just outside the closet door trying their hardest to get in. She could hear their hungry groans as they beat on the thin piece of wood separating them from her and she knew those things weren't going anywhere as long as she was trapped in that closet.
She began to open her last can of peaches, it was the only food she had left and she couldn't hold out eating any longer. The rumbling of her stomach was as loud as the growls of the undead, but it was no where near as loud as the sound of a shattering window that caused her to drop the can on the floor beneath her. The ear piercing crash filled the room and she could hear the shuffling of feet as the deadies changed their focus to the window. Breann took a deep breath and waited until she couldn't hear anymore movement within the room. Opening the door slowly, she peaked around it to find that she was completely alone in the room. Whoever or whatever broke that window had ruined the only food she had left, but also saved her life. She grabbed her pack and walked over to the shattered window looking for any signs of life. There were three men, all in different areas of the parking lot. The man closest to her was trying to defend himself from three of the rotting corpses. Bre jumped out of the window, bowie knife unsheathed, and plunged the blade into the head of the nearest corpse.
The man, shocked by her sudden entrance, stumbled backwards and fell. She ran to his aid, killing one corpse while kicking the other into a dumpster, giving the man enough time to pull himself up and drive his knife into the skull of the last deadie. Without a word, he ran through the fence into the next parking lot over, leaving the others to fend for themselves.
"Asshole," she muttered. The other men were still trapped, fighting for their lives and he was running away. She ran towards the empty parking space where she had seen one of the other men before. He was lying facedown on the ground, hands tied behind his back, as a deadie ripped the flesh from his arms and another chewed at his neck. As she got closer, she realized he was only a boy, maybe seventeen, and he was defenseless and left to die. Tears began to stream down her pale cheeks. This was why she had made an effort to avoid other survivors, she had never come to terms with watching innocent people die in this apocalypse. She knew that eventually she would have to, but death had always been difficult, even before the end of the world. She drove her knife into the skulls of both corpses and then the head of the young boy. She had learned the hard way that you come back after dying from a bite.
The sound of a car engine zipped past her and she turned to see a green Hyundai Tucson run head on into the crowd of walkers surrounding a bus. The third man she had seen jumped out of the back of the bus and climbed into the car, escaping the deadies that had survived the collision. That man hadn't left after all, but she still wasn't sure of him, she couldn't figure out why the boy had been tied up that way and left with no way to protect himself. The car sped towards her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Get in!" With no other choice she climbed into the car, hoping that this would be better than defending herself against a dozen undead corpses. They sped down the road, leaving the building that had almost been her final resting place behind.
XXX
"Rick, we can't bring her back! We just had the same issue with Randall, she could have a group and she could be dangerous. What is it with you and saving strangers? You're putting the group and your family at risk!" Breann sat quietly in the car, learning about each man as they argued her fate. They had been partners in the police force before the turn. Rick was the one she had saved after escaping the closet, he was a man with morals that he refused to break and his intense eyes enforced his beliefs all the more. Shane, on the other hand, was all about survival. He would kill anyone to protect their current group and he didn't care what happened as long as they survived. Breann already didn't like Shane, as the conversation went on, she realized he was demanding and ignorant which were both traits she despised in people. She needed to join a group, she knew she couldn't survive alone, but she wasn't sure that this group was worth joining if they were anything like Shane. Both men returned to the car and they started towards their group once again, the air filled with bitter silence.
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"Who the hell is this?" Daryl was a redneck with short brown hair and a short temper to match. He got in Rick's face, "Thought we was lettin' that boy go, not tradin' him for someone new."
"Daryl, she saved our lives and she was trapped in that building. She was alone, she's not dangerous." Rick was trying to calm the fuming redneck.
Before Daryl could retort, Dale, the voice of reason within the group, spoke up suggesting a vote. Everyone nodded in agreement, hoping to end this debate. "Who votes she leaves?" Daryl and Shane raised their hands, but everyone else stood still. "Who says she stays?" The rest of the group raised their hands, even the children, Carl and Sophia.
"You people are insane," Daryl growled, "when this goes south don't none of ya blame me." He turned and stomped off towards his tent which lay separate from the rest of the group.
"Thank you." Bre smiled, she was relieved that these people were willing to allow her to join the group. She took the tent and sleeping bag that Dale held out to her, "My name is Breann. Is there any chance I could get some food?" She thought back to the can of peaches she had dropped.
"Nice to meet you Breann. Carol is finishing up lunch by the fire pit, you're welcome to whatever she made and by the way, I think you'll fit in just fine here." She smiled again at the old man and then turned to go set up her tent by everyone else's. The group was kinder and more welcoming than she had thought. She had expected all of them to side with Shane, against her, but thankfully she had been wrong. She felt like she really would fit in with his group. She wouldn't be alone anymore.