Actors, Rednecks, and Saints

Author's Notes: This was my first multi chapter Fanfiction, so please, bear with me. Also I'm very much not Irish, sorry. Please R&R to let me know what you think. This story has recently been edited and is still in the process of being revamped. Enjoy…

He was running. Running for his life.

The sky was dark and he could hear thunder rumbling loudly in the distance. Every few minutes lightning would strike, briefly igniting the sky.

His mind was blank, he had no memory since he appeared on the black tar of the abandoned city streets. All he remembered was he was looking for someone and he had to run to survive.

It began to rain and the wind was loud, screaming in his ears. He had been running for what seemed like hours, trying to escape them. They were near; he could hear their moans following closely behind him.

"I have to find him. Have to warn him."

He had been running through the streets of South Boston trying to escape these things. These things that wanted him dead. He was trying to get home. Trying to find his brother.

"I have to find him."

By now the sky was charcoal black and he could hardly see five paces ahead of himself as he ran. And he was tired. He was breathing heavily and exhausted from running, but the things chasing him never got tired and never slowed down. So he kept running.

"I have to find him. I have to protect my brother."

He turned right on another street, bolting around another corner, and then he could see it. He could see the ratty old apartment building he shared with his twin brother at the end of the next block. He was going to make it! There, he would find his brother safe at home and he could protect him there.

"I have to protect Connor."

He started running faster, trying to reach home, but it was so dark. He couldn't properly see where he was running which caused him to trip when stepping up onto the curb. He landed face first connecting with the unforgiving concrete and twisted his right ankle. He couldn't bring himself to stand and heard them as they drew closer, closing in around him. Then he heard someone begin to scream. It was Connor.

"No please, not Connor! Connor!"

Murphy turned on his back trying to push himself up and help his brother. But when he turned, he saw them. For the first time since he began running, he saw them. They looked like people, but they weren't. They were dead. Some looked vaguely like normal people, but others had visible human bite marks and/or scratches on their arms, legs, and/or faces, some were missing limbs, and some even wore their organs like clothes. They were obviously dead, but they were still coming.

It took less than a minute for the undead things to catch up to him. Half a dozen fell on top of Murphy and he started to scream. He could feel every bite and every scratch as the dead tore into him. He screamed his brother's name over and over again till his throat hurt, begging for his twin's help. And Connor answered him. Connor, in turn, screamed for his brother's help again and again. The last thing Murphy heard were his and his brother's almost synchronized screams. They cried out for help and when the pain grew too intense they just screamed out in pain. Their screams intertwined, echoing throughout south Boston and filled the empty night sky. Then everything went black.

"….Come on Murphy, wake up. Stop yer screamin' and wake up. It's alright yer safe, it's me, Connor," Connor sat hovering over Murphy while holding his arms down to keep him from thrashing. "Please Murph, wake up," Connor all but cooed to his slightly younger brother, trying to wake him.

"Conn…." Murphy answered, still half asleep.

"Yes Murph, I'm here. Wake up." Connor moved off his brother and sat next to him on his own sleeping bag. Murphy sat up as well and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was back in the two person tent he shared with his brother. "Ye had another nightmare."

"Really, ye don' say." Murphy replied. His accent thickened due to him just having woken up.

"Was it Boston?" Connor asked, looking concerned.

"O' course it was. When tis it not," Murphy mumbled. Murphy stood with his back meeting the slanting roof of the tent, grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and stepped out of the fabric building. Connor did the same and followed, sitting in one of the small folding chairs while Murphy crouched next to the fire pit to warm breakfast.

"Do ye want to talk about it?" Connor asked, watching over Murphy as he searched for a lighter to start a fire. "It's gettin' worse; almost every day now. Are ye worried about somethin'?" Murphy wouldn't look at his brother as he lit the fire and murmured, "It's nothin'."

"We're safe here Murphy. We got out o' Boston, we got out of Atlanta, and we're up here in the mountains. We haven' seen a walker in weeks. We're goin' ta be alrigh'." Connor tried to reason with his brother.

"I told ye, tisn' anythin' Connor. Tis only a dream." Murphy leaned over a bag and pulled out two cans of beans, setting them over the low burning fire. "We finished the deer las' night. We need to go huntin' tomorrow."

"Aye…" And Connor let the dream go.

XXX

The two ate their breakfast and went about the rest of their day acting as if nothing had happened. They went down to the end of a river close to their campsite for a few hours and spent the rest of the day running around their small camp site, joking around, and trying to keep each other entertained. By the time they finished eating their dinner the sun had gone down. They were sharing a blanket near the fire talking nonsense and finishing off a package of cigarettes when they heard a girl begin to scream.

"Connor…" Murphy asked as they both shot up to a sitting position.

"I know, I hear it," Connor replied, looking around towards the trees that surrounded them on all sides, trying to pinpoint which direction the scream was coming from. Not ten seconds later they heard more men and women start to scream and gun fire soon followed.

"Where…" Murphy asked again, starting to panic and looking to his only slightly older brother for answers.

"I don' know. Up here surrounded by hills and trees there's almost no way o' tellin'," Connor replied.

"What should we do?" Murphy jumped to his feet and gave his brother a hand to stand while waiting for his directions.

"Put out the fire and get into the tent."

"What, shouldn' we pack up and leave?"

"And go where, into the city? Ye know it's been over run. Now hurry and get into the tent," Connor replied as he rolled up the blanket and went to pack their bags if they did in fact need to run. Murphy quickly stomped out the fire and dove into the nearby tent. By the time Connor climbed in and lied down beside his brother roughly ten minutes later the screams and gun shots died off.

"Well, least they got it back under control, aye?"

"Or they're all dead. Conn what if all tha' noise brings walkers from the city up here," Murphy asked, not bothering to hide his nervousness.

"No, I don' think it will. It sounded like it was a few miles up the river. They won' bother us even if all tha' noise does bring 'em," Connor answered reassuringly. "Now try to get some sleep Murph. We'll figure it out tomorrow."

Murphy just nodded silently, warily, and rolled into his brother, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Connor wrapped a reassuring arm around his brother and the two fell into an uneasy sleep.

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