Author's Note:

First off, I'm a HUGE fan of The Walking Dead. I've never read the comics but I've spent a fair share of hours binge watching every episode. I love the series so much that I'm hesitant to even attempt a fanfiction of it. But I've had this plot bunny running around in my head for ages and it wouldn't shut up until I put my pen to the paper. Or rather, my fingertips to the keyboard. I've made some subtle changes to the storyline, mostly pertaining to the zombies and their characteristics. I hope no one minds too terribly much.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I bow to the copyright of AMC and Robert Kirkman. The only thing I own are my OC characters and their likeness.


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Occulta; latin, nominative

occulta f (masculine occultus, neuter occultum)

1. hidden, concealed, having been hidden

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The begining of the end of the world started off like any other day.

I woke up to the sound of my mother's alarm clock blaring across the hall, and waited for a moment to see if she would get up and turn it off. After a few minutes of nothing, I groaned and dragged myself reluctantly out of bed.

Stomping down the hall to my mother's room, I threw open the door loudly. My eyes fell to my mother's sleeping form, wondering how it was possible she could sleep so soundly through such ruckus. Then I remembered that yesterday had been Friday, and my mother probably had spent all night at the bars. Irritation filled me as I walked the distance to her alarm clock and I yelled in frustration at what I saw. I slammed my fist down on the box to quiet the sound.

"Ma!" I said loudly as I shook her sleeping body. "Ma, wake up! It's 8:30! You were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago for your shift!" She still didn't move. Groaning and rubbing the leftover sleep out of my eyes, I made my way to the kitchen to fill a glass of cold water. As usual, the pipes under the sink groaned for a moment before finally sputtering forth a slow drizzle.

I made my way back to my mother's room, yelling out to her one more time before I threw the contents of the glass on her. Surprisingly, she still didn't move. "Mama?" I asked again, walking to her bed uncertaintly. I shook her again a few times before checking her neck for a pulse. I found it almost immediately, breathing a sigh of relief once I found the quick fluttering under her skin.

Well, at least she wasn't dead. Still, it didn't change the fact that she wasn't waking up. I sighed, leaving my mom's room and heading back into mine. If she didn't show up to work today, she was probably going to get fired. It would be the third job she'd gone through in just as many months.

I jumped into the shower, trying not to wallow in self pity. It was difficult. I felt like a 30 year old stuck in a 17 year old body. Constantly worried about bills and food, whether or not we'd get evicted and have to be homeless. It was easier when my mom had a boyfriend, at least then most of the bills got paid, but then I had to deal with whatever skeevey loser she was dating being around the house. If I heard the phrase 'You look just like your mother!' one more time, I was going to shrivel up and die.

After suffering through the borderline freezing temperature of the shower for as long as I could stand, I turned the water off and climbed out. There was no condensation on the mirror and I came face to face with my reflection. Even though I didn't like to hear it, it was true that I looked a lot like my mother. If one were to look at pictures of her 20 years ago, one might mix them up with pictures of me present-day. We had the same thin, heart-shaped face and the same high, arched eyebrows. The color of our eyes were only slightly different, her's being a pale blue while mine were more of a greenish blue. Same blonde hair, same thin, agile build.

Leaving my mom passed out in her room, I exited the shithole we called an apartment and locked the door behind me. My messanger bag hung across my body, and I dug in the pockets to try and find change for bus fare. So far, I was fifty cents short.

"Buses ain't running today, sweetheart," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Martha Williams, a homeless lady that I often saw in my neighborhood. She seemed to have made her home at the side of someone's porch.

"Hi, Miss Williams. What do you mean they're not running? They're always running," I asked.

"Didn't you watch the news this morning? I saw it when I was passing a coffee shop on 6th street. There's this weird outbreak of the flu spreading through the city like wildfire, they're shutting down all public transportation to try to contain it as much as they can."

"How are we supposed to get around? I have to get to work," I asked, looking down worriedly at my old wristwatch. It was approaching 9:15 and I had to be there by 11:00.

"They're telling everyone to stay inside, dear. Said it could be airborne."

"Yeah, well that's not happening. Roy'll kill me if I miss another shift," I said distractedly as I set off down the street. Catching myself, I stopped and turned around and walked back to Martha. "I'm sorry, Miss Williams," I said once I faced her. "Do you have anywhere to go? I don't want you to get sick."

The older lady smiled, her teeth surprisingly white against the dark pigment of her skin. "No, but that's okay, sweetie. I've lived on these streets for ten years. I'll be fine."

I grimaced, not wanting to think about such a nice lady living on the streets for so long. "Are you sure? You can go to my house if you want. My mom's there but she's passed out drunk. She shouldn't bother you," I offered.

Martha looked taken back, and then thoughtful. "You mean it? I could stay there?"

I smiled. "Of course, Miss Williams. There's a key under the doormat. Apartment 206. Just stay in my room. My mom won't go in there, even if she does wake up," I told her. "I've got to get going though, I'm going to be late!"

After saying goodbye, I took off again down the street. I started jogging, knowing that I would be really really late if I didn't. If I got fired, my mom and I would be double screwed.

It wasn't until I reached the downtown area that I started hearing sounds of distress; fire trucks, police sirens, people screaming. I turned around a corner, before immediately stopping and backing up.

One car was overturned in the street, its windows shattered and glistening on the pavement. I could see there was a fire blazing on in one of the middle floors of an apartment complex. People were surging around in all directions, and I could hear their cries and screams of fear. I couldn't see what the initial cause of all the commotion was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I took off down the road at full sprint, looking straight ahead to where I needed to go and never once looking back.

I had almost reached Roy's Paintball and Shooting Range when I slowed down to catch my breath. My side was cramping acutely, but I had finally left the craziness of downtown behind me. I looked at my watch, seeing that it was 11:05.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, before taking off at a run once again, not stopping until I arrived at my destination. I went to pull open the door, only to find it locked. "What the hell, Roy?!" I demanded, banging on the glass in frustration. Roy was the owner and he lived in a loft above the buisness, so there was no way he wasn't here. I continued to bang on the glass for a good ten minutes until suddenly his figure appeared before me. To my extreme surprise, he had a gun pointed at me through the glass.

"What the fuck, Roy?!" I exclaimed, taking a step back. "Don't point that shit at me! Are you insane?"

"Are you bit?" he asked, yelling loud enough for me to hear him through the thick glass.

"The fuck are you talking about? Bit by what?" I asked, annoyed. Roy was always one for jokes and pranks, but pointing an actual gun at me was taking it too far. I knew it was real because I worked with the paintball guns all day, everyday and the chunk of metal in his hands certaintly wasn't one of them.

"Don't fuck around with me, Avery! Are you bit or not?!" he yelled, his finger tapping the trigger on his gun threateningly.

"No, nothing fucking bit me, you lunatic!" I yelled, taking another step back. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why are the doors locked?"

Roy hesitated for a moment before pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door. As soon as it was opened, he grabbed me and pulled me inside before immediately closing it and locking it once more.

"Are you sure nothing bit you? Or scratched you?" Roy asked once he had put his keys back in his pocket.

"I think I would know if something bit or scratched me," I huffed, irritated. I still wasn't over him pulling a gun on me. "Are you high? What's got you so freaked out? Those doors have never been locked after 11 a.m."

"Haven't you seen what's going on out there, Avery? The whole fucking world is going nuts!" Roy told me before storming off. I followed him, noticing that he was heading towards the shooting range.

"Yeah, so? What else is new? Downtown is pretty crazy, though," I remarked thoughtfully, thinking back to the scene I that I had fled before I really had any time to comprehend it. "Wonder what's going on down there."

Roy stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at me as if I had grown three heads. "Jesus Christ, Avery, is your head in the fucking clouds?! Its fucking Resident Evil out there, people turning into fucking zombies and eating people!"

I stared at him. I mean, really stared at him. Then I punched him in the stomach.

"What the fuck, Roy?! You pull a gun on me for no fucking reason and then pull some bullshit excuse about zombies? I should kick your ass!"

"Like you could, pipsqueak," he laughed at me. It was true, my punch didn't seem to effect him any more than an annoying mosquito bite would. "I'm being serious. The government is trying to pass it off as some sort of weird flu, but it's bullshit. Video doesn't lie," he told me, matter-of-factly.

This was the point in the prank that Roy normally ended up giving himself away by laughing or splitting into a shit-eating-grin. I waited for either, but they never happened. He looked at my dumbstuck, skeptical face for only a moment before digging in his pocket for his phone.

"Here, I'll prove it to you. The cell phone towers are still working for now," he said the last two words with emphasis. "This video was taken about 48 hours ago, uploaded in Russia. Watch this fucking shit."

And watch I did. It started out with a lot of static noise and a blurry focus, as though the camera was being moved too quickly. I could hear someone breathing in the background like they were running, yelling something in Russian. My mother had been born in Russia, and it was my first language growing up even though I was born in the US. I understood it perfectly.

"Run! We have to run!" came a voice from off-camera.

"I have to get a video of this! Hold on," someone else said, as the camera stilled and came into focus. The picture showed a woman chasing a man down the street. Something was definitely wrong with her. Blood drenched the woman's nightgown, bright red and emanating from some unknown location on her body. I watched as her and the man she chased approached the camera, and saw when the man tripped and fell. Like something out of some slasher horror film, the woman pounced, leaping through the air with vicious intent. As soon as she was upon him she tore into his flesh with her teeth. I could see the muscle and tendons seperate from the bone as she went into a frenzy. Fresh blood arked through the air, and the man's screams peirced right through my chest.

"Holy fuck, she's eating him!" the voice came from off camera spoke again. "Run! Fuck your video, we have to run!"

The video ended. I looked up at Roy, wide-eyed and horrified. If this were a prank, it was a very elaborate one. Way above Roy's pay grade. "This shit is real?" I asked, in shock.

"You bet your pretty little ass it's real," Roy said, and then he laughed. It was a hard sound, without humor. He put his phone back in his pocket, before opening the doors to the shooting range. He headed towards the back of the room, towards a door that I had never had access to.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked, following him once again. "If that video's real, we need to do something! I'm not gonna be zombie food," I said, panic filling me for a moment. My mind flashed back to the chaos that had been going on downtown, remembering the swarms of people running in all directions. I hadn't been looking closely, but had there been things chasing them? I couldn't remember. I sure hadn't seen anyone getting eaten.

"Well, I'm gonna head north a ways. My gramps was a real interesting man, always thinking the world was gonna end in his day. He was almost right, too. Old fucker hasn't even been in the ground five years," Roy told me. He had opened the mystery door at the back of the room, and I noted that it was filled to the brim with guns and ammo. "He's got a cabin up real deep in the woods, all stocked and shit. Real survivor, my gramp was. Always told me I'd appreciate him when the world started going to shit. Old man was a fucking psychic, I swear. Though I doubt he was expecting fucking zombies."

"Can I come with?" I asked, horrified for a moment that he was going to say no. I'd been working for Roy for a little over two and a half years now and he was a good guy. A little gross smelling and slightly sexist, I'll admit, but a good guy nonetheless. He had given me this job even after my mom had dumped his sorry ass a month prior to me applying. But rules changed when the apocalypse was upon you. He could very well toss me to the curb.

"Sure, why not? Safety in numbers and you're not too bad of a shot," he said, barely looking up at me as he continued sorting through his weapons. Relief flowed through me. Thank God I'd have somewhere to go. Thank God I wouldn't be trapped in this city when shit really hit the fan.

"What about my mom, Roy?" I asked, suddenly remembering her at home, passed out drunk. I felt guilty that my mother was an afterthought. "She's got no fucking idea what's going on! She wasn't even conscious when I left," I told him, anxiety lacing my chest. "Please, we have to get my mom," I begged.

Roy paused in his assessment, looking at me. "We'd have to go through downtown to get to your apartment complex, Avery," he said, sounding sorrowful. "It's too dangerous. We've got to get out of town before it's too late."

"Please, Roy? Please? I know my mom's not the greatest person out there, but she's all I have. It'll take 10 minutes with your driving. We'll take the back roads. I swear it'll be quick," I pleaded with him, desperation thick in my voice. I wasn't proud. I'd fucking beg if I had to.

Roy sighed, looking up at the ceiling as if it could give him the answers he wanted. Finally, after holding my breath as I waited for him to answer, he spoke. "Fine, Blondie. We'll go get your mom."

I exhaled in relief. Roy and my mom hadn't had the cleanest of breakups, but he was actually one of the few good guys she'd dated. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Roy."

Things went quickly after that. Roy had me help him with packing. We loaded up fuel, food and supplies, all the while keeping our ears open. The chaos from downtown seemed to be moving closer to us, sirens peeling down the street we were on. Downtown was the epicentre, and like an earthquake it was spreading out in all directions.

Once Roy's truck was loaded, we climbed inside. It was difficult for me to get in, since the truck had been lifted far above its original height. I huffed in frustration when Roy had to lean over the passenger side to give me a hand.

"Don't huff, this truck is a beast. It does good on the road and even better off of it," he told me once I was safely inside the cab. He turned the key in the ignition and it roared to life. The garage door opened and we peeled out into the street.

As I had suggested, we took all backroads to my apartment. We seemed to stay away from all the craziness up until we were about a mile away from my home. Then we crossed an invisible line between reality and hell. There was a multicar accident, and flames leapt from the hood of two of the cars. Some people were running and screaming, trying to avoid whatever had ensured the panic. Others stood motionless and in shock, watching the scene around them unfold.

Roy's beast of a truck traversed the chaos easily. He didn't slow down even the tiniest bit, and people lunged out of the way to avoid him. I would have yelled at him for his madman driving, but to be honest I was too scared. I was grateful for his speed.

As we passed the accident, I watched as a woman got out of the passenger side of one of the cars. Blood dripped down the side of her face, and she opened her mouth in a scream as she looked over to the driver's side where her companion sat, motionless and head resting on the steering wheel. She ran to the other side of the car to where he was, and pulled desperately on the car door to try to open it.

I watched a man approach the screaming woman from behind. The man walked stiffly, as though fighting his limbs to cooperate. The woman didn't notice the man's approach, and threw her head back to cry, apparently realizing that her companion in the car was dead. It gave the man behind her an opening and I watched as he lunged at her, ripping through the flesh of her throat like butter. I was powerless to stop it and powerless to look away.

I didn't realize that I was sobbing until I felt Roy grab my hand and squeeze it gently. Only then did I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Don't look back, pipsqueak. Don't look back," he advised me, his tone was gentler than I had ever heard.

We came to a stop in front of my complex, only a few streets away from the craziness we had driven through. I made to get out of the car when Roy's hand grabbed my forearm, stopping me. I looked at him as he spoke.

"Look, Avery, you're a good girl and I don't mind getting you and your mom out of here," he began, "but I'm not about to become a zombie's main course. You get your ass in there, get your mom, and come right back out. You've got ten minutes. Ten minutes, or I'm fucking gone. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I managed to get out. The thought of him leaving me in the middle of a zombie horror movie was almost enough to give me a panic attack, but I forced myself out of the truck and jumped down to the pavement below. Knowing there was no time to waste, I slammed the door and took off at full sprint to my apartment complex. It was suspiciously quiet, especially for a Saturday afternoon, but I figured it had a lot to do with the city telling everyone to stay indoors because of the 'flu' outbreak. My apartment was on the second floor, and I ran up the flights of stairs until I found my door. It was locked, and I fished my key out of my bag and unlocked the door with shaking fingers.

My apartment was quiet, exactly as I had left it. I figured my mom would have been awake and making her coffee by now, and I prayed that she wasn't still passed out. I did not have the time to wake her drunk ass up before Roy left us high and dry.

"Mom?" I called out, stepping tentatively into our kitchen. There was no response. She's still fucking sleeping! I thought furiously, making my way into the living room. How could she fucking sleep at a time like this?! The whole fucking world was ending and she was catching some zzz's.

I approached the hallway that led to our rooms. Only then did I realize that something was off. A low growling reached my ears, as well as a sort of wet, squelshing noise. I slowed my steps, fear overwhelming my senses for a moment. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back to the safety of Roy's truck, but determination made my feet continue forward. I peeked into my mother's room, but she wasn't there. I could still see the imprint that her body left in the mattress, so she couldn't have gone far.

The growling steadily grew louder as I passed my mother's room and headed towards my own. Even from a distance, I could tell something was wrong. My bedroom door was open, hanging on its hinges. My bedroom door was never open. Taking a deep breath and gathering all my courage, I walked the few steps down the hall to my room, standing in the doorway.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Not the chaos downtown, not the video Roy showed me, not the display that I saw on the way here. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my mother, crouched down close to the floor as she tore into the stomach of Martha Williams. It was horrifying. Miss Williams was totally still, though her eyes were open wide in horror. My mom was completely naked, the thin bathrobe that she normally wore to bed had apparently fallen off, and I could see deep scratches on her back. I had seen them before on my mother, normally after one of her boyfriends left the morning after spending the night. These scratches were worse though, having taken off large chunks of her flesh. Green puss oozed out of them.

"Mom?" I managed to choke out, shaking like a leaf.

At the sound of my voice, my mothers head whipped around to face me and she snarled. I couldn't help the small scream that escaped from my mouth. My mother's face, once so like mine, was contorted horribly. Green legions spread across her skin, and her blue eyes were completely clouded over, unseeing. Her gums were inflamed and black, making her teeth look elongated and yellow.

My mother was a fucking zombie. I was about to die.

I stood frozen, waiting for her to spring at me. But to my extreme surprise, she didn't. She continued to stare at me with those horrible, unseeing eyes, her mouth still set in a snarl. I watched as her nostrils flared dramatically and heard a low growl in her throat. Then, amazingly, she turned around and went back to eating Miss Williams' intestines.

I didn't know what was going on, but she didn't seem interested in eating me. Not letting myself really absorb the situation before me, I edged into my room, staying as close to the wall and as far away from my mom as I could. I approached my bed and reached under it for the safe I kept there. Unlocking it, I pulled out my trusty .22 caliber pistol(nicknamed Opal for the white iridescent inset on its handle) that Roy had gotten me for my 16th birthday. I grabbed the couple of boxes of ammo I had, and shoved both into my bag. I then ran to my dresser, grabbing some clothes and shoving them in too.

I had purposely avoided looking at my mother as I gathered materials from around my room, and only once I was done did I allow myself to look at her again. She was still in the center of the room, munching contently on Miss Williams' insides, completely oblivious to the gore she was getting all over her body. Blood pooled on the floor, staining the carpet that I had begged my mother to replace not even a month prior.

I couldn't look anymore. Call it cowardly or call it acting in self interest, but I ran. I ran out of that room and away from the monster that had once been my mother. I ran to the bathroom, ripping open the medicine cabinet and nearly tearing it off the hinges in my haste. Inside was a decent supply of my mom's painkillers and antibotics, and I hurriedly shoved everything in my bag. If there was ever a time I was thankful for my suitcase of a purse, it was now.

After grabbing everything of use from the bathroom, I hightailed it out of there. I didn't even shut the door to the apartment on my way out. I ran down the hall, ignoring the pounding of my heart and the cramp in my side. It wasn't until I reached the stairwell that I ran into trouble. There was a man there, and under the fluorescent lighting the green legions under his skin stood out like a flashing neon sign saying DANGER! This zombie is about to eat you! He apparently was trying to climb the stairs, but his stiff limbs kept tripping him. When I entered the room, his head snapped my direction as the metal door behind me closed loudly.

Again, I tensed, waiting for him to attack me. His mouth opened and he growled low in his throat, his nostrils flaring as he stared in my general direction. I couldn't move my feet, and I reached into my bag to locate Opal in case of the worst. Just as I turned the safety off, the man seemed to lose interest, the snarl dropping from his mouth as he began to try to climb the stairs again, paying me no mind.

After a few seconds, I forced myself to move, knowing my time was cutting short. I edged my way around the man, staying as close to the wall as possible. Once I was past him, I took off at a run again. I bursted through the entrance door and my heart soared at the sight of Roy's truck sitting there, still running. Thank god.

Moaning and screaming caught my attention and I looked down the street, to the source of the sound. I shit you not, I almost pissed my pants at when I saw a horde of zombies heading down the street. Dozens and dozens of them, coming towards us.

Running to Roy's truck as fast as I could, I threw open the passenger's side door and leaped inside, adrenaline making the jump easy. I slammed the door shut behind me and pushed down the lock, before turning to Roy. "Fucking drive! Get us the fuck out of here! Go, go, go!" I yelled, looking over my shoulder at the approaching mob.

Roy didn't waste any time. The engine roared as he punched the gas, and we were off. "Jesus, Avery! Cut it fucking close enough?! I was about to drive off without you!" Roy berated me as he navigated through the streets. Chaos seemed to be everywhere now. Sirens were a constant wail and fires seemed to be breaking out every twenty feet. People were surging out of their houses onto the street, some running to try to flee and others walking around stiffly, trying to find their next meal. People yelled out at us as we passed them in the truck, begging us to stop and let them in. Roy kept driving.

"Where's your mom, Avery?" Roy finally asked me when I didn't respond to his previous angry words. He must have sensed something was up because normally when he gave me shit I dished it out right back. Now though, I was trembling all over with my knees drawn to my chest. My stomach felt like it was turning itself inside out and I was suddenly glad I hadn't eaten at all today, for it surely would have come back up all over the interior of his truck.

"She was...one of those things," I managed to tell him. "When I got up there, she was eating Miss Williams. I told her this morning she could stay at my place, where she'd be safe," I choked out. Someone was sobbing and it took me a moment to realize it was me. "Oh god, Roy, it was horrible. What's happening? Why is this happening?" I cried out, becoming hysterical.

"Did you get bit, Avery?" Roy asked, his voice turning hard in an instant.

"No, Roy, I didn't. I swear," I told him, before shrugging out of my flanel. I was only wearing a camisol beneath, so it showed a decent amount of my skin. "See?"

He looked at me for only a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, I see. Put your clothes back on, you're distacting me," he said gruffly, but I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, not be creepy. I couldn't bring myself to laugh.

We drove out of the city as quickly as possible, using the road when it was passable and going off road when it wasn't. As we approached the town limits, Roy veered off road completely and headed toward the forest that surrounded our area. It was a stretch of land used often by mudders during the wet months, and it didn't surprise me that Roy went this way.

I didn't look back as we entered the woods. I didn't want to watch as the town I grew up in went up in flames, choosing instead to strap myself into the safety harness Roy installed specifically for off-roading.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. The only sounds were our bodies straining against the harnesses and the engine roaring as Roy manually switched the gears. I did nothing but watch as the forest flew by, feeling strangely disconnected from the situation.

This couldn't be real. This whole situation was completely impossible. How could my life go from completely normal one day to absolute chaos the next? Actually, fuck my life, how could the world turn into absolute chaos in one day? People turning into zombies? You have to be fucking kidding me! I thought the end of the world was supposed to be caused by rich men sitting in a stuffy little room, pressing the button to launch the nukes. Or a natural fucking disaster that changed the face of the earth?

What caused this? Biological warfare? Was it a naturally evolving disease?

Eventually the silence must have become too much for Roy, because he jabbed the buttom to start the radio. As soon as if clicked on, the blaring of the emergency alert came through the speakers. This an emergency alert. This is not a drill. All citizens of Montgomery County and surrounding areas are instructed to stay inside their homes and await further instructions. This is not a drill.

We listened to the emergency message three times before Roy sighed and turned off the radio. Not long after the forest began to thin out and we approached a large expanse of grassland.

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked, the words out of my mouth before I even realized I spoke.

"Sure, sorta," Roy said off-handedly. "Been a good ten years since I've been up here, but I got a pretty good idea where we're goin'. Should be a dirt road around here somewhere," he told me.

We drove for what seemed like hours, but also minutes. Out here away from civilization, the events of the last twelve hours seemed unreal. A bad dream.

"Ah look, there it is!" Roy said excitedly, pointing. I looked and there was indeed a small gravel road cutting through the grassland. It was barely wide enough to accommodate Roy's massive truck, and if he hadn't pointed it out to me, I never would have seen it. "Just gotta follow this bad boy all the way till we get there. I'd say about another hour," he informed me.

I must have fallen asleep somehow, because I woke up to Roy shaking me, telling me we were there. Apparently he had already unloaded the truck while I had been sleeping, not wanting to wake me. I felt too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to properly show my gratitude. Instead, I focused on getting my safety harness undone. After a few moments of struggling, I finally managed to get free, opening my door and jumping to the ground below.

The cabin before me looked like a piece of shit. It was small, maybe two rooms, with warped walls that gave it an expanded, curved look. I didn't have it in me to be disappointed, though. It was a place far away from civilization and that meant safety.

"Doesn't look like much from the outside, I know. But looks can be deceiving," Roy told me, seemingly reading my thoughts. "I told you, my gramps was a fucking genius. Just wait."

We entered the cabin, and I looked around, still not very impressed. It looked just as small inside as it did outside, if not smaller. There was a wood stove and island counter in one corner, a mattress in the other, and a rotten couch located in front of the fireplace.

"Come on, we're going downstairs," Roy said, drawing my attention away from my dismal inspection of the room.

"Downstairs?" I repeated, following him over to the corner where the stove was located. He kneeled down before the island counter, gently pushing the side inwards. I heard a faint click and then the side panel swung open like a door. I crouched next to him, letting out a surprised gasp. Where there should have been nothing was a flight of stairs, descending into darkness below.

"Gramps built this cabin to look like shit on the surface, but the real kicks are in the secret basement. I'll show you," he said, after laughing at my surprised reaction. He had to turn around and climb down the stairs backwards because of the steep downwards angle.

I went to follow him down when he called up to me, "See that latch on the door? Slide the lever over to lock it," he instructed. I followed his directions before continuing my descent. When I was about halfway down, Roy managed to shuffle his way through the darkness and light an old oil lantern.

Light invaded the space, and I was surprised at how nice it was. It was much bigger than I expected it to be, only slightly smaller than my apartment had been. It had the look of a finished basement, with decent carpeting and high ceilings. Well, they were high for me, anyway. Roy was 6'3" and he had to crouch a little.

"Wow," I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "Nice digs. I guess this is what they meant when they said don't judge a book buy it's cover," I said in an attempt to joke, though my voice fell flat. I walked around the room, checking out the small hallway that branched into two small rooms. There was a lumpy cot in each room, with bedside tables and a single unlit oil lamp on each one.

"Got a supply closet down here stocked full of MREs and oil for the lamps," Roy told me, coming up from behind. "Why don't you go get some rest? You'll have plenty of time to check it out in the morning," he suggested.

I nodded. I was exhausted, so I wasn't going to argue. I started shuffling my way toward one of the rooms before stopping and turning around to face Roy. I looked at him for a moment before lunging forward and wrapping my arms around his waist, pulling him close.

"Thank you, Roy," I said, my voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you for getting me out of there. Thank you for not leaving me behind."

Roy was stiff at first, but eventually he returned the hug, giving me a little squeeze around thr sholders. "Don't mention it, pipsqueak. And..." he trailed off for a moment, placing both his hands on my shoulders and pulling me away from his chest to look me in the eye, "I'm sorry about your mom. She was a good lady, and I know she loved you," he told me.

I nodded dumbly, before turning back and heading into one of the bedrooms. I flopped down onto the mattress face first, paying no mind to the squeak of the cheap metal frame. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

.

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A/N: Well, there it is! I have a couple more chapters written so far, but I'm not going to lie, my continuation of the story will most likely rely on reader interest. So please let me know what you think! Did you like it? Do you think it's too far fetched? Can't wait for more? Wish I'd never posted it in the first place? Let me know!