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Summary: When the world ended the only thing Birdie Grimes wanted to do was to get home to her family. When she finds her sister-in-law and best friend on the outskirts of Atlanta, will she finally get the chance to tell him how she really feels? Will love blossom? *No evil Shane*

Warning: This fan-fiction is rated Mature for Language, Gore and Adult Situations. Readers under the age of 18 are strongly discouraged from reading.

Pairing: Shane Walsh x Birdie Grimes

Notes: Shane will not be the bad guy in this...I'll find other more sutible characters for that.

Chapter One

Never in a million years did I think I'd see the apocalypse. I certainly never expected to see it and not be with my family when it happened. But here I was stranded on the side of the road with a dead jeep in what was once bumper to bumper traffic.

This trip up from Tampa hadn't been an expected one. I wish I could say I was taking a nice road trip to celebrate finales or some big promotion—but no—I had been headed home to possibly burry one of the most important men in my life.

He'd been shot in the line of duty by some idiot in a stolen car.

I nearly collapsed when Lori had called to break the news and I was pretty sure if Becky hadn't been there when she was, I would have. Rick—my twin brother—had always been my whole world. He was my hero as a child, my confidant in almost everything as a teenager and my partner in crime. So—when I heard that he was in a coma he might never wake from—I nearly had a heart attack.

Shane had called several hours later—apparently after he had left the hospital—to check on me. I told him that I was certainly not fine and that I was having a hard time dealing with this by myself. It was Shane's idea for me to come home—though I think I was way ahead of him in that respect—I had already had my bags packed into my rusty old CJ7 and hauling up interstate I-75 out of central Florida.

"Well shit," I groused to my eight year old bloodhound. "We just can't catch a break, can we Tru?"

Trusty turned in his seat, eyeing me like I had just won the observation of the year award.

"Damn dog," I mumbled as I readied my weapons and my pack for the 2-mile walk to the next exit. Hopefully the Flying-J wouldn't be too overrun and I could find shelter for the night.

It was true though, ever since the outbreak hit in Henry County, it had been one hardship after another. The only bit of lucky Trusty and I seemed to have at all was that we had already made it past McDonough and that most everyone on the interstate seemed to be headed South. That right there should have told me not to venture any further, but Rick always said I was the stubborn one and I wasn't about to leave without knowing if my nephew had survived.

The heat was oppressive today, and had the world been what it once was, I would have called AAA and let them sweat to death.

"Come on, Tru, keep watch." My pampered pet groaned, yawning loudly before he jumped down from the high-seat of my jeep with a huff.

"Glad to know I can count on you," I told him with a scowl. Damn dog. I'd bet he'd do it wagging his tail if Papa Hair-gel asked him too. "Traitor!"

The walk wasn't the longest one I'd ever taken but in the heat of a Georgia summer it sure felt like it. Thankfully for Trusty and me, we only spotted a few of those things here and there—about ten in all, but I only had to put down three of them. It was strange how some of them seemed to be able to spot you from miles away while others could be standing 50 feet from you and not see you if you stayed quiet.

Staying quiet was probably the first lesson I'd learned about these—whatever they were. They kind of reminded me of the some of the big cats I'd worked with in the past—responding to light and noise—and of course, the smell of blood. I'd seen too many people ripped apart because they had been so frightened they couldn't stop from screaming. So, Trusty and I…we stayed quiet.

There were quite a few more of the undead wandering around the truck stop that had to be taken out, but I was relieved that it was nothing like some the hordes that I'd seen. The store itself was rank indeed, full of gore and littered with the bodies of those infected and some that had…taken matters into their own hands.

There was absolutely no way I would be sleeping in there, but I did find plenty of bottled water, some feminine products and a 50 pound bag of dry kibble for Trusty. The Country Kitchen was a treasure trove of canned and dry goods, things that would keep for as long as I remained on the road.

For the Hell of it, I also grabbed a few cases of assorted beer and grabbed a few cartons of cigarettes—I didn't smoke or drink often but you never know when something like that could be bartered for something else.

It was when I had gone searching through the parking lot for a vehicle I could commandeer that I found my saving grace, my light at the end of the tunnel, my Eden. Hell, I pretty sure the Angels were even singing to me. So that's what I named her; Angel.

An abandoned fuel tanker sat near the edge of the pumps—obviously it had been waiting to offload. It was free of the dead and even had the keys still resting in the ignition. To my extreme disbelieve it even had a sleeper trailer. I almost wanted to laugh. This had to be some kind of a trap, but as I approached a started to load my gear, nothing happened.

With a relieved smile on my face, I held the driver door open wide, "Come on, Tru, up ya go."

He did so with a happy bark and immediately settled himself in the sleeping quarters in the back of Angel. I checked the locks on the doors and followed him moments later, happy that I'd have a relatively safe place to sleep for the night, after all—it had been awhile since that happened. We were both asleep within minutes.

Morning seemed to come all too quickly, but in light of my new ride, I couldn't really complain. I guess it was lucky that I could drive damn near anything with wheels—and something's without.

Not wanting to push my luck remaining here any longer than was absolutely necessary, I fed Tru some dry kibble and forewent feeding myself until I found a more secure location. I could already feel hunger clawing at my insides but, a few packs of crackers would have to do the trick for now.

After Tru was fed, I took him on a quick walk to relieve himself and give myself a little relief as well, before checking the fluid and other maintained on the tanker and firing her up. She started right up on the first turn of the key.

As I waited for Angel to warm up after the chilly night, I went over the drivers logs and found out that I was sitting on about 6,000 gallons of diesel fuel. That would keep me going a good long while.

I was just entering the outskirts of Atlanta when I saw a short young man or woman furiously beating their hands on the hood of a smoking Chevy Berretta. As I came closer I could tell that it was a man—young and thin—possibly Asian decent and as wary as I have always been picking up hitch-hikers, I couldn't just leave him out here.

He looked surprised and scared as I stopped beside him, not even bothering to pull off the shoulder. Trusty was barking and wagging his tale so I took that to mean that he didn't see anything wrong with this stranger.

"Need some help?" I asked, elbowing Tru out of the way so I could hang myself out the passenger side window.

The kid—Asian, like I had thought—looked nervous as he lifted his Pizza-Hut ball cap and scratched through his inky black locks. "Y-yeah, my…my car…"

Hum? Either this kid was afraid I was gonna kill him or he seriously had a problem talking to women.

I laughed lightly, "Yeah, I can see that. You need a ride somewhere?"

He breathed deeply and smiled back at me. "Yeah, my group, we uh, have a camp not too far from here. I was out, scavenging, headed to Atlanta…but my car…"

"Yeah, I can see that, too." I smiled at him. "Well, hop in and I can take you there, you'll just have to fight Trusty for shot-gun."

"The backs totally fine with me." He blurted, dragging a hand across his tired face. "I just… need, uh, to get the stuff I found."

I couldn't help but laugh loudly at him this time, he was so skittish—like a damn cat. "Well, don't take your time, you never know where those things will spring up."

He did so, a Hell of a lot faster than I thought he would, and suddenly I could see why this man/boy would be put to the task of scavenging. He was fast, light on his feet and smart, but why in the Sam Hill would his group only send one man? Perhaps it's just a small group.

"Walkers." The kid said as he hefted himself up the side of my Angel.

"What?"

"Walkers, that's what we call those dead things." He explained as he eyed Trusty apprehensively. Trusty being excited about company, made a show of himself by liking the poor kid like he was a T-bone steak.

"Hum," I hummed in thought, "I like it, it makes since anyway. So Mr—

"Glenn, just Glenn." He replied as he laughed and wiped at the slobber now coating his entire face.

"Well, Just Glenn, you can call me Birdie."

His smile widened as he took my proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you Birdie."

"Likewise. Now, where we headin'?"