A/n: Yes, another Daryl story. But this one is going to be a million times better and going to be a bit more detailed and slower paced (hopefully). I own nothing but Callie and Jon.

Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

"Jon, it's hot outside! Why on earth do you have your winter coat on?" Callie asked her son. He was but four years old and still struggled to even put his shoes on the right feet, so it was no surprise that he would try wearing his coat in late spring.

Callie checked the thermometer that was hanging right outside her and her husband's farmhouse. It read 99 degrees. Sighing, she daydreamed of jumping into a cool lake with nothing but a tank top and shorts on. What a relief that would be.

Jon walked out to her, still wearing his coat, "I think it's better to be hot than cold!"

Callie laughed at him, took his coat off and hung it on the coat rack right inside the door. She knelt down to him, straightening his blue dress shirt, "Now, I don't want ya sweating in your new outfit your father bought you, okay? How about you go take an apple out to your father and tell him it's almost time to leave?"

Little Jon nodded and skipped off to the kitchen to grab the best apple in the fruit bowl. His mother had just put fresh apples in from their apple tree in the backyard, which made it all the better. He loved having their own fruit tree. It meant endless apples to eat whenever he felt like it. Of course, if he always came back inside for dinner not hungry, his mother would always sigh and tell him he wasn't allowed to watch TV for the rest of the night. Happened every time. But Jon didn't mind not watching TV, he'd much rather be outside helping his father with the shed or eating some more juicy red apples.

Skipping to the man who was now just screwing in the new shed door he had finished, Jon piped up, "Mommy wanted me to give ya this and to tell ya that it's almost time to leave for church."

When his dad finished screwing the last hinge in, he turned to Jon and ruffled his hair, "Alrigh', bud, let's go."

As they walked back into the house, Jon piped up, "Momma's gonna get mad at ya if ya ruin your dress shirt. She told me not to wear my coat because it'll ruin mine. I think she wants to keep all the church shirts nice and clean."

He smiled, "Then I sugges' we do tha' so ya momma don' get mad."

Callie walked back downstairs, hair curled, smoothed skin, beautiful summer dress and smiled at the two most wonderful men before her, "I hope you are all ready? Daryl, please tell me you weren't working in your nice clothes."

Daryl smirked, kissing her on the mouth, taking her hand in his as they walked out. Jon smirked at his dad, "I told ya."

Callie looked at her son, crossing her arms, smiling. "You told him what, Jon?"

Daryl picked up his son and slung him over his shoulders, spinning him around to keep his mouth shut. Jon laughed and laughed, being carried all the way over to his dad's red pick-up truck. Callie got in the passenger seat and looked over to Daryl, "You didn't forget your bible, did you?"

"Shit," he muttered, re-opening his door and running inside. Callie shook her head at him as he got back in. He gave her a sincere smile to ease her disappointment. Putting the truck in reverse, the headed off to church.

Callie chuckled, "What am I going to do with you, Daryl Dixon?"

-x-

Daryl glanced over at his wife in the passenger seat. She was staring at the window, lost in the reminiscence of their church service that morning. There was nothing bad about that woman at all. No matter how hard he tried, the flaws weren't there. And if they were, he only saw them as little mistakes that made her all the more perfect. Her silky auburn hair was tied in a bun neatly. Her dress sleeves were only an inch, leaving her arms and half of her shoulders visible.

He smiled at her, his eyes glancing back a few seconds just make sure the road ahead was still safe to not be looking at.

When she noticed he wasn't watching the road, she looked at him with a questioning look, "What?"

"Nothin'," he smirked, looking ahead of him again.

Callie smiled to herself, looking back out the window. When her gaze went over to the mirror outside her door, she saw a strange figure in the road, walking oddly. Its face was an ugly gray and his jaw hung loosely as if just barely clinging by a thread. Callie leaned over her seat quickly, trying to see it, but it vanished as the truck drove faster than that thing could walk. She seated herself straight forward again, not believing what she saw.

"What is it?" Daryl asked her.

"Mommy saw a zombie! I saw it too. It was ugly," Jon said, sticking his tongue out.

"What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?" Daryl furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at his review mirror. There wasn't anything there.

Suddenly, as his gazed was fixed on the road ahead of him, he saw a figure pop out of the cornfield and start heading for the car. Daryl stomped on the brakes and Callie flew forward, screaming. It was too late and the truck smashed the figure and flattened it to the ground. When Daryl and Callie caught their breath, Daryl said, "Stay in the car, Jon." They walked out and ran over to the figure.

It looked fairly similar to the figure Callie had seen in the mirror. It's graying skin looked deathly and gross. But the figure had one distinct difference. There was a large gash in its face, its left eye completely missing. Callie gasped, "There's no way that was from us hitting him."

Daryl gave it a disgusted look and poked his chest. The thing opened its right eye and started grabbing for Callie who was right by its head. When the thing got a hold of her ankle, she struggled to get away from it. It then started biting at her, trying to get a piece of her. Daryl got out a gun from his pocket and shot it in the head. Callie screamed, "What the bloody hell is that?"

"Get back in the truck," he hissed, angered by what had just happened—or almost happened. She obeyed and got into the car. When he did too, he started it back up and drove as quickly as he could back to their house.

Before they got out, Jon asked, "Is that guy going to be okay?"

Neither of his parents answered. Callie was still trying to catch up to Daryl as he marched into the house. When he went into their bedroom to change from his bloodstained clothing, Callie asked, "What's going on? Do you know what that was back there? Because from what I saw it wasn't exactly a human."

Daryl took out two suitcases from under their bed and began packing for himself and his wife, who was still telling him to stop and explain. He looked at her, placing his hands firmly on her scrawny shoulders, "We need to leave." A few days ago he had watched the news, feeling bored from finishing a long day's work and waiting on his wife to finish her last day of teaching for the current year. She was at a meeting and had to stay late, so he turned on the TV and Jon had sat next to him and watched. The broadcaster was telling a story about how many patients at a local hospital were growing sick and that they even began to bite others around them, so they were to be locked up. The broadcaster also said that the virus—or whatever it was—was spreading fast.

He hadn't believed a word of it. Until now.

He started packing again, while Callie just stood staring, "What do you know that I don't?"

"Those things have some kind o' virus or somethin'. If tha' thing woulda bit ya, ya would have turned into one of them too," he mumbled. When he was finished, he took the suitcases and ran downstairs where Jon was sitting, watching the TV. Daryl saw that same broadcaster speak with a worried look on his face.

"It seems the whole state of Georgia is going under with this disease. No doctor has any idea how to cure it or even what to diagnose it, but one of them stated it seemed to be turning people into cannibalistic zombies. And it seems—" he said, as a large airplane went overhead of their little town and dropped a bomb that exploded, blowing up the hospital, "that they are doing all they can to prevent the disease from getting out. There have been about two hundred—"

The TV went static for a moment then shut off. Callie began to panic. A bomb had just blew up the hospital only five miles from her farmhouse. Where were they going to drop the next bomb? She looked at Daryl, no longer knowing what to do.

"Come on," he said sternly. He ordered Jon to pack as many clothes in the suitcase he had stored in his room and to come down quickly. When he did come back down with his little book bag case, he ran to his mommy and hugged her when they heard a loud explosion.

"Oh my God," Callie whispered. She picked up her son and followed her husband out the door.

When Daryl saw many of the zombies walking quickly towards them, he cursed under his breath and said, "Get back in the house, get back in the house!"

Callie cried out, "What about you?"

"I'ma get tha' gun. You just go 'n hide!"

She hesitated for a moment, but when he left for the shed, she took Jon back inside, running to the study and closing it with the lock in place. She went around the room and closed all the windows. Jon began sobbing and when she was done locking all windows and doors, hurried to him, "Be quiet, sweetheart. Everything will be fine."

"I want daddy!" he sobbed.

She hushed him, hopping he would calm down soon before the things heard them in there. Before she knew it, she heard a loud explosion. Looking out the window closest to Jon, she saw flames racing towards them. Tears streamed down her face. Daryl was nowhere in sight. And as the flames got closer, she began to pray that Daryl and her son would be alright, for this was the beginning of The End.