Hello guys, girls, those in-between or other, and welcome to Jurassic Park another walking dead story from me. Idk, I was reading some stories featuring peoples OC's or themselves so I accidentally jumped on the bandwagon. I haven't slept, read Yellow Jacket by deCaeloIgnis and Where I'm Safe by Endless Catastrophe and WHAM here I am having wrote this out on no sleep, the joys. Anyway I'll try to update it, knowing me I probably won't (But idk if you want me to you can always pester me to write more over on Tumblr where I'm always as my name is HatefulSuperSam for those of you who might).
The character I use in this is basically me, I'm going to include some flashbacks, memories or thoughts of my best friend Cheyenne (Chichi4mangaHero) because she is my bae. Anyway, if there is anyone out there reading this, enjoy! ;)
I sighed again for the umpteenth time, looking through my pack. I was sure I had some water left, I had only filled it the other day. I've been on the road since this whole thing went down, me and my family flying over to America, it was the first time I'd been here, it was supposed to be a holiday. Until everything turnt to shit.
We had planned to stay 2 weeks tops, maybe go to SeaWorld, and see the sights, Disneyland. All that crap, although I was only 17 I had never been to these places, my family wanted to me to experience it. Since everyone else in the world seemed to have already.
I remember my family talking about going to all these places, went to SeaWorld, Orlando studios, Disneyworld. I was too young to go with them, and they always looked back on it fondly, something I could never relate to. It made me feel, left out.
Even at school, all the popular kids had been there, done that. 'I went to SeaWorld', 'I went to Disneyworld', 'Yeah well I went here I did this'. It was almost a competition, who had been to the most popular place, who had met a celebrity. You can hardly blame them though, if you lived in a town no one had heard of you wanted to make a name of yourself.
I rubbed my face tiredly, giving up my search. My family…I miss them a lot, the few months I had been out here were horrible. Always on alert, on edge, any noise demanded attention. My anxiety never letting me relax, though I suppose you relax you die in this world now.
After we had come here, a week in to our holiday, everything went to shit. Broadcasts all over the news, to stay indoors, barricade your houses. They never told you what was out there, but we saw soon enough. People attacking other people, at first we thought it was bath salts or something. Like that guy who bit off some dudes face off a while back.
No this wasn't some people high on drugs. This was the fucking apocalypse, maybe if we had saw that we might've got a plane home back to the UK. To put it simply these people were zombies. It was one thing to read a comic about them, but seeing them rip someone apart. That wasn't something you easily forget.
A twig snapped behind me and I spun around, knife at the ready. You had to have fast reflexes in this world otherwise the undead get you. I swung my bag over my shoulder and walked cautiously in the direction the sound came from. Expecting a zombie, maybe an animal. Instead I was shocked to see a man wielding a crossbow, aimed in the other direction, not seeing me. I froze up, this was the first human I had seen since starting this trek through the woods a couple months ago.
He was facing the opposite way, crossbow trained on a few undead feasting on a dead animal. I was about to speak when a zombie suddenly lunged for him from the dense bushes, before I knew it I had stabbed it in the head, without thinking.
The man turned around quickly, eyes sharp and widened. His eyes then glanced down to the zombie on the ground, and then to my knife. He opened his mouth to say something but that's when the ones eating noticed us from the noise the one falling to the ground had made. They stood up on uncoordinated legs, growling as they stumbled their way over here. Bits of flesh hung from their mouths and they were covered in blood.
The man in front of me must have noticed my expression because next thing I know two of them are dead with arrows through their skulls. The guy was busy reloading his crossbow with an arrow and the other zombie was getting closer. I breathed out shakily and lunged for it, my knife going into its eye but not killing it, I tried pulling the knife out but it was impossible, the zombie was reaching for me and the knife was stuck. I tripped over something and went sprawling on the floor, with the zombie on top of me.
Its cold undead hands reached for me and I tried to push it off of me but it was a dead weight person so it was near impossible. This zombie was an older woman by the looks of her, and her skin was ash grey, her clothes were stained with blood and she had thin long blonde hair. Her eyes were a glassy grey and black, and she had flesh hanging from her mouth. She snapped in my direction a couple times as I held her forehead with my hand, keeping her out of reach. The smell of her and her breath made me want to heave, her face inching closer.
Suddenly she was off me and I could breathe again, a knife kept her now dead body pinned to a tree. I rubbed my face, I had felt nothing but unease and anxiety since I was on my own. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders knowing there was another breathing alive person in front of me.
I started as a hand was trust in my face, I looked up, seeing that same man from earlier holding his hand out to me. I took it and he heaved me onto my feet, before walking back over to collect his and my knife from the body.
He walked over to me, biting the skin around his thumb as he looked at my knife, debating whether to give it back to me or not. Before he handed me it, I strapped it back to its rightful place on my belt before looking back up to this stranger. Now all the commotion was over I could finally get a good look at him. He was taller than me, looked to be around his twenties or thirties, he had chestnut brown hair that was parted on his face in jagged lines, giving him a rugged look. He wore an armless vest with another armless leather jacket on top. 'Probably because of the heat' I mused. He had dark tight fitting trousers, and his crossbow swung around his arm.
I looked at his face, his eyes were a piercing light blue, blue eyes. That reminded me of my best friend Cheyenne. When I had come over to the USA she was still in the UK, who knows if the virus had spread over there, she could be dead for all I knew and I couldn't get to her anytime soon, she was across the damn ocean.
I snapped out of my musings when his gravelly voice spoke up "You got a group?" I was shocked to hear a human voice, normally the only sounds I had for company was the gurgles and groans of the undead.
I shook my head "No it's just me" I answered truthfully, my own voice sounded hoarse from lack of use. But hey can you blame me, I had no one to talk to, and anyway talking was noise, noise attracted them.
He nodded at me, before looking in a direction I presume he came from. "If ya want, I got a group not far from here. It'd be up to Rick but I'm sure he'd let ya stay if you got nowhere to go" this made my head snap up and look at him in disbelief "A-a group? Y-you mean there's more survivors?" I asked shocked.
He nodded before a look I couldn't read passed his face "I'd have to take yer weapons though, and look through your bag, to determine you're not a threat, Rick has a way of handling these things". I nodded in understanding, before taking my knife off my belt, handing him it and then passing him my bag.
He nodded his head and opened my bag, rifling through it. I soon drifted back into my thoughts, I hadn't seen people since I began my journey alone, and this person had a group. Numbers meant safety, but what if these people were bad? Rapists? Murderers? Psychopaths? Once the announcements were broadcasted over TV and radio everyone lost their fucking minds. Starting riots on streets, fighting out of sheer panic and fear of the unknown. But some people couldn't handle what was happening, began kidnapping girls and young women from groups, taking as they pleased in this new world without rules. Some still hoarded money like it was worth a damn.
After losing my family I had joined a group, some people from the hotel. We began taking in anyone, there was safety in numbers, and before long we accepted the wrong people. One family watched as their little girl was snatched from them, becoming the 'leaders' plaything. It was chaos. She was only 11 or younger, it still sickens me thinking back on it.
I snapped out of it when he pulled out my wallet from my bag, I unknowingly reached out "P-please don't break it, it's the only thing I have left of my family" my voice wavered and he looked up at me, understanding in his eyes, before opening the wallet and looking at the pictures. I couldn't bring myself to look at them, faces of dead people. I didn't want to think of my life before this, you think of the past you get distracted you die. Game over. That's the way this world worked.
He pulled out a few other things, an empty water bottle that had seen better days, a tin of chicken soup, a spoon, a rag, a wind up torch. That was everything I owned in his hands, he looked them over before stuffing them back into the bag and handing me it.
"We better go if we wanna make it back before dark" he spoke, turning and heading in a direction I wouldn't have taken had I not ran into him. I followed closely behind. Without a weapon I was defenceless and vulnerable. It was then I noticed how dark it was getting, the sun was setting, casting beautiful oranges, yellows and reds across the sky. My breath caught in my throat at the sunset, it was like a painting on a canvas.
I looked down sadly, canvas, art, Cheyenne loved art, and we used to spend every spare moment in the art block together at school. She was always painting, drawing, shading, making beautiful works of art. She never truly thought highly of her art skills but if only she could see that her paintings were her capturing the beauty of the world. Her inner essence was always pouring out onto the page or canvas in front of her. God I miss her.
We passed through the overgrown forest, before coming to an open meadow, the long strands of yellow grass tickled at my legs. There were a few zombies wandering aimlessly here and there and I stuck close to the guy in front of me, although they paid us no mind.
He walked quietly and surely, sure of his step but always watching and scanning his surroundings. We passed through the field with no conflict and walked in silence through more trees.
He suddenly broke the silence "Ya got a name?" the question was directed at me even though he wasn't looking at me, his gaze was on where we were going.
"Y-yeah I'm Sam" my voice sounded rough and my mouth was dry, I hadn't had water in a few days. 'How long was it you can live without water again? Two, three days?' I pondered. Staring at the guys back, the angel wings were quite the touch, made him look like a saint.
I noticed he hadn't replied with his own name, only humming in response to my answer, "What's your name?" I cursed, I sounded so unsure of myself, like a pathetic little girl who needed someone to hold her hand. I thought of something to say to get to know more about this guy "I'm guessing by the angel wings you're religious? What a Gabriel? Joseph?" he smirked and I felt the tension dissipate.
"Name's Daryl" he looked back at me over his shoulder, before we continued on through more forest. I couldn't think of anything to say in response and we were once again walking in silence.
After a while we came through to a clearing, for a minute the harsh sun blinded me before my eyes adjusted, and what I saw in front of us made me gasp. In front of us lay a large prison, grey walls standing tall and strong despite age. A fence surrounded the inner yard, but unlike the building didn't look to be able to last more than a few months with all the pressure being put on them. "A prison?" I asked him.
He nodded and continued walking, me scurrying close behind like a puppy. There were a few zombies pressing into the fence and I felt my unease return, Daryl killed a few on our way and we were soon at the front gate. Others walking slowly in our direction, we'd be inside before they got close.
The gate was pushed open by a kid a little younger than me with a police hat on, and I was shocked to see another person. Daryl walked in with me trailing as I took the place in, I'd never been to a prison before, or seen one in person. I often joked to my friends about how one day I'd kill a man and end up in one. If only I knew how true those words were. That was when times were simpler and there wasn't undead roaming the world.
"Who's that?" the boy asked, nodding to me. He had brown hair and blue eyes, with a brown sheriff's hat on his head. 'Kinda makes him seem a little childish' I thought to myself. He wore a denim jacket and brown trousers.
"Found 'er out in the woods by 'erself, says she ain't got a group. Weather she stays or goes is up to Rick, where's yer dad?" he asked the kid, putting weight from leg to leg as he stood talking to this kid.
The boy's eyes looked at me and then back to Daryl, "He's inside looking after Judith" his eyes flickered to me, he looked almost protective when he mentioned the name. He obviously didn't want me near her or his dad going from his body language.
Daryl nodded and walked on, I looked to the kid and sheepishly nodded and waved before hurrying after him. We walked up a grassy area where I presume the inmates spent outside every day, I'm pretty sure it is – or was required by law to spend a certain amount of time outside. Now the grass was overgrown, unkempt and wild.
I could feel eyes on me and I looked around, there were people on the watch tower and a few people around the grey walls watching me and I felt like I was being judged, I kept my eyes on the ground.
We reached a metal door and Daryl opened it, leading the way inside. He shut the door behind us and everything was dark, I waited for my eyes to adjust, blinking into the darkness. Eventually my eyes grew accustomed to the dark and suddenly I wish I wasn't able to see again, about 9 or 10 other people all stood, sat or leaning against something had their eyes on me. I bit my lip uneasily and looked to Daryl, waiting in a nervous tension.
'This is like waiting for your mum to speak to the doctor for you' I thought, staring at a very interesting speck of dust on the ground.
Daryl suddenly spoke, making me jump from the suspense, "Found 'er on 'er own in the woods a couple miles west, says she ain't got a group" as he spoke his eyes were on one man, when looking at him I internally shivered. He was obviously the leader of these people, he had an air about him of no shit taken, he looked worn and tired, his eyes were a lighter blue than Daryl's, he had a greying beard and everything about him spoke leader, responsibility.
He wore a sweat soaked light brown shirt, which was rolled up to his elbows. He had a brown belt with a gun holstered and dark trousers. On his arm sat a child, not even 1 by the looks of her, she had a pink onesie on and had hardly any hair. I was shocked to see a child in the midst of the apocalypse but I quickly kept my eyes moving over the group so they didn't think me a threat to the baby.
A woman stood close by the guy with the beard, resting her weight on one leg with her arms crossed. She had grey hair and kind blue eyes, she had an aura of motherly trust about her. She wore a light yellow shirt which was also rolled to her elbows and dark trousers too.
My eyes moved over them, taking in the people I would potentially be living with. An old man sat on the table near the guy with the beard, he had crutches leaning against the table and upon inspection I noticed he had a leg missing. 'Damn wonder how he got that' I pondered, before studying him more, he had white hair that was brushed back, and a white beard. He had kind blue eyes and reminded me of my Grandpa Sam. He wore similar clothes to the leader beard guy and had an aura about him I instantly felt close to, that I could trust.
Next was a young woman sitting next to the old man, she had brown hair that was down to her shoulders with a middle parting, she wore a maroon long sleeved shirt and I couldn't tell you what trousers she wore because they were under the table. She had blue eyes and her teeth stuck out a bit, but overall she seemed friendly.
Next to her was a black haired Asian guy, he had a thin growing moustache, he had a black shirt and was holding the other girls hand. 'Guess there's still love in the apocalypse' I mused before moving on.
Standing near the back of the room was a petite blonde girl, about my age. Her hair was tied up messily with strands of wispy curls going past her ears. She wore a yellow shirt and grey trousers. Her face exhibited understanding and caring, 'she's obviously been through this. Being introduced to a big group' I thought.
My eyes moved over to the next person, standing further back near some cells. A black woman with long dark dreadlocks, she had a similar get up as Daryl. Sleeveless leather jacket and brown trousers. She was leaning casually against a wall. And had an aura much like the leader, no shit taken and could kick ass.
There were some other people who didn't sit with this closely knitted group, there were some I'd seen before outside and there were some peeking through a doorway where I guess other cellblocks were.
My eyes flicked back to Rick who was studying me, I guess I wasn't much to look at. I had dark brown shoulder length hair, I had brown eyes – or as my mum said 'Hazel' even though I never thought they were a different colour. I had an elbow length baseball top on and a black leather jacket on top, some black jeans on, a brown belt where I kept my knife, black and white plimsolls and my grey shoulder bag.
He handed the little girl to the grey haired woman and stood up, walking over to me with an air of calm and collected, but could strike at any minute. He stopped a little further away than arm's length and nodded at Daryl. Who immediately nodded and walked over to the others gathered around the table. 'Leaving me under the inspection of the lord it seems' I thought jokingly.
His blue eyes looked tired but still shone with something I didn't know, a look that suggested if I said the wrong thing he wouldn't hesitate to kill me. I shivered. He looked over me "You got anything on you?" he asked looking at my bag, I shook my head, passing him my bag as I spoke, my voice wavering "I-I gave Daryl my knife" just like he had told me to.
He looked at the man in question who nodded and held out the knife to him, he clasped the weapon and put it in one of his back pockets, before looking through my bag just like Daryl had. When he looked at the wallet I unknowingly held my breath, if he took that from me I wouldn't know what my family looked like. The pictures inside were all I had for reference.
After finding nothing of interest except the tin of soup he gave me my bag back. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"If you stay here you'll be sharing food with us, we share," he indicated at the can before setting it on the table "but before you stay or go I want to ask you three questions" his voice was even and calm.
I nodded, preparing for the worst. "How many walkers have you killed?" he asked, his eyes watching and taking in any response I may give. "Walkers?" I asked, unsure of what he meant.
"The undead" he clarified, seeing my confusion. I breathed shakily, thinking back, I'd been on my own a couple months. But I hadn't counted how many zombies I killed, I shook my head "however many I had to, to survive I guess" I spoke honestly.
He nodded, not giving anything away. 'Was he satisfied with my answer?' I had no way of knowing, he gave nothing away.
"How many people have you killed?" his eyes held a spark of attentiveness as he asked this question, I thought back, back to when I was with that group. All the girls they had raped, the people they slaughtered, the way they looked at me. With their rancid breath and smirking faces. I had killed them, how many were there? I thought back.
"7" I looked him square in the eyes, not backing down from his attentive eyes. 'He is probably judging me so much right now' I thought to myself.
"Why?" was this the last question or a follow up side question to my previous answer? I had no clue.
I felt uncomfortable thinking of the past while all these people silently watched and judged me, but this was his final question, after this I can leave or go somewhere where eyes won't watch my every move.
"I uh, in my last group there were these guys," I started uncomfortably, looking at the floor instead of his hawk eyes "the people who ran it let anyone in who wasn't a zombie," at the mention of the word zombie some looked uncomfortable, guess they didn't feel comfortable calling them that. "anyway, they let in these guys who quickly took charge of the group," I began to lose myself in my memories, thinking back "they were going to get us killed, made a lot of noise, shouted, blasted music, took what they wanted" I looked back at him and he was focused on me. "We started running out of supplies, attracted a horde or two with all the noise they made," I remembered, I'd never seen so many of them at once "but one day the leader of them kind of snapped, started," I faltered with my words wondering how to explain it "started taking the girls of the group, a-and they- they did things to them, treated them worse than the zombies could," my eyes became a little glassy thinking of that girl, no older than 10, just a child but I didn't cry, I looked up to him, seeing his attention still on me, urging me to get to the point I suppose. "Then one of them went for me, and I," I paused, thinking of that rancid breath, the grins as one of them gripped my wrist tightly, throwing me to the ground, unzipping his fly, I breathed heavily, before looking at the leader square in the eye "I killed them." memories of me slicing his throat open, killing the others as they shouted bloody murder trying to pin me to the ground, I had an out of body experience watching myself slice them to pieces, I finished, my eyes flickered from him to the floor a few times before settling on his left eyebrow.
He mused over what I said, taking in the answers I gave before nodding. "What you did was defend yourself," he told me, almost as though he could sense my insecurity "you can stay with us if you'd like, you don't have to if you don't want to, but we could always use an extra pair of hands," he reached back before handing me my knife "I trust you with this" he nodded to my knife, closing my fingers around it.
I breathed a sigh of relief as he turned and walked back to the others, putting my knife back I stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do. The grey haired woman walked over to me, a kind smile graced her lips "I'm Carol," I went to shake her hand, unsure, before she laughed and enclosed her arms around me. It was the first hug I'd had since this thing started, I breathed in, she smelt of laundry detergent and something I couldn't place, a comforting smell all mothers had. A few of the others were watching and I felt the tips of my ears blazing.
Carol leaned back smiling at me "I'll show you to the free cells, you can pick whichever one you like" I nodded. This was different, but it beat living by myself, up a tree, on a roof, or anywhere else I had camped previously.
As I walked through the grey hallways I got the feeling I was going to like it here.