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Aibileen Martin was walking. She'd been walking for hours now. Her clothes were stained with sweat and the blood of the reanimated she'd taken down. Her tank top clung to her like a second skin; her old, torn blue-jeans seemed heavier. Her worn out tennis shoes seemed to hurt her feet more than the walking. The gun Aibileen had in its holster seemed to weigh her down; the machete she'd been given by her last group was held firmly in her hand.
The woman gave a long sigh.
Aibileen's last group had been taken down by a horde of the reanimated. They all tried their damned hardest to take them down, but there were so many of them...Aibileen just barely made it out alive.
That was two months ago.
Now? She was walking between wrecked cars and trucks. Last she checked, she was going to Atlanta. Aibileen had taken down numerous reanimated people, and she would have given anything to just find a safe place to just relax for a little while. Just to clean herself up, get some fresh clothes and restock on ammunition.
Just to find other living people!
Something caught her attention up ahead. It sounded almost like...a running engine.
She tried her best to make her way through the trash people had left behind, through the vehicles that were left empty in the middle of the road.
If it's really a running engine, then there must be actual people! she thought excitedly.
When the sound came to a stop, she felt her heart stop. But she forced her aching feet to move—if there were real, living people up ahead, she needed to get to them! She had to...
Coming to a skidding halt, Aibileen knelt down slightly by a nearby vehicle, just a couple feet in front of a motorhome with smoke coming out of the front. A group of people, holding various weapons, gathered around the front.
"I said it. Didn't I say it?" she heard someone say—a man. "A thousand times—dead and..."
"Problem, Dale?" she heard another man say.
Aibileen felt relief rushing through her system. Real, living people. It felt like forever since she had seen that.
Taking a deep breath, Aibileen tried to compel herself to move forward—they're alive, aren't they? What're you so scared of? she thought.
She heard them still talking, giving her the determination—and confidence—to come out of her hiding place and introduce herself. Then she hesitated. Those people were in a tight situation; one of their vehicles had overheated, from what she gathered, and wouldn't go any further.
You were a mechanic before the world went to Hell, she thought hesitantly. You help them, they'll help you!
Chewing on her bottom lip, Aibileen decided to go with that. If she helped them with their car troubles, maybe they'd help her in return.
Slowly standing up from her hiding place, Aibileen made her way forward, her heart beating painfully in her chest. Would they try and attack her? Probably—she was covered in sweat and filth and reanimated blood. God knows when she took a shower last. She used her free and to try and brush her black hair out of her face. While before the dead came back to life, Aibileen's hair was kept short—styled like a pixie-cut. Once the dead started coming back, her hair had gotten longer, shaggier. She tried her best to keep it short, so she didn't have to worry about anyone—dead or alive—grabbing at it. She made sure to keep her hair just an inch or two above her shoulders.
Aibileen just hoped she looked halfway human to these people.
When she was in full view of them, she froze in her tracks.
One of them, a young looking man holding a rifle, noticed Aibileen and immediately aimed it at her. The others were quick to notice. Aibileen held her hands up instantly.
"I ain't come here to cause trouble," she said immediately. "I heard your engines and I came to see if there were real people."
"You bit?" the man holding the rifle exclaimed.
Aibileen took notice of the whole group. She saw two children, a boy and a girl; an African American guy and an Asian guy; the man with the rifle; three women; a man with a sheriff's hat; an older looking man; and a scruffy looking guy wearing a shirt with no sleeves.
The one with the sheriff's hat stood protectively in front of the young boy and a woman Aibileen assumed was his mother, tense. She noticed a woman with very short hair holding the young girl—her daughter, presumably—closer to her.
"Are you bit?" the man with the rifle exclaimed again.
Aibileen had been paying such little attention, that she didn't realize that the scruffy looking guy with no sleeves was suddenly holding a crossbow in her direction.
Aibileen looked at the man with the rifle, arching a brow. "I ain't bit," she answered. "I heard the engine. Looks like y'all are havin' some trouble."
"How can ya help us?" the one with the crossbow asked.
"I was a mechanic before the world turned to shit." Aibileen looked at him for a minute, her brown eyes lingering for a split second before going back to the rifle man. "I could give y'all a hand."
The air was tense for a moment, before the man in the sheriff hat told the two men to put their weapons down.
"Do ya have any supplies I could use?" Aibileen asked.
Author's Note:
This is my first 'Walking Dead' fanfic, so please help me as I write this! Please leave helpful reviews! This is new for me. I hope you all liked this first chapter.
I don't own the 'Walking Dead'; I only own Aibileen, any fillers I might put in, or any new characters I might add.
The next updates will go a little more into Aibileen's background and everything—and she'll also be introduced to the gang. Please just tell me if there's anything I can change or add, whatever!
Thank you.
Susan Strong
