Author's Note : This is my FIRST EVER "The Walking Dead" series and I'm so excited to finally be able to share it with everyone! (This is based off my one-shot called "The Road Ahead" in case you were wondering why the first chapters seem a bit familiar.)

My OC - Anna Brooks - is of my own creation. I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. This is a SLOW-BURN fic…I wanted to keep Daryl as accurate as possible, so you know he's not going to fall in love within a chapter…or two…or twelve…so, we are in for the long haul, babes!


Anna Brooks wasn't sure of many things.

But regardless of the unpredictability of life, there was one thing she was absolutely certain of — the small fact that she was completely screwed.

It was sometime in the late afternoon, she was all alone, and her pickup truck had suddenly decided that it was time for a premature departure. She'd been confident that her small truck would last another couple of weeks — or leastlong enough to get her to Atlanta — but going along with the theme these days, it met an early demise.

The pickup didn't belong to her — she'd stumbled upon it a couple weeks ago in a deserted parking lot. It'd been pretty banged up — the rusted green paint chipping, scratches and dents covering the exterior, streaks of blood here and there. But in a rare stroke of luck, she'd found the keys in the glove compartment and a full tank of gas. It had been a Godsend.

Anna slammed her hand against the steering wheel as the truck finally rolled to a stop, steam seeping out from under the hood. She put the truck into park before shutting off the engine. Taking a deep, steady breath, she turned the key, hoping to hear the engine turn over. But her heart dropped when she was met with what could only be described as 'clanking metal'.

"No, no, no, c'mon baby," Anna murmured as the truck sputtered for a moment longer, before ultimately dying out. She yanked the key out of the ignition with more force than necessary and threw it at the windshield, watching it clatter onto the dashboard. "You've gotta be kidding me," she groaned softly, pinching the bridge of her nose, fighting off the sense of hopelessness washing over her.

The smell of exhaust floated through the open window, the steam becoming thicker. Anna's head snapped up, worried that her truck was moments from combusting. She shoved the car door open and hopped out of the truck, moving to stand in front of the hood. After some jostling, she popped the hood open and took a step back, coughing as she ingested some of the fumes. A few moments later, the smoke settled and she approached the car once more.

Anna had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Sure, she knew how to jumpstart a car or check the oil, easy things that her older brother, Ben, had taught her years ago. But other than that, this was unfamiliar territory. She wished so desperately that she'd payed more attention to her brother's lessons — maybe it would've helped her now.

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck, soaking into the collar of her flannel. She swiftly pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail, pushing the shorter pieces that fell into her face behind her ears. She shrugged off the flannel, feeling much cooler in just a white tank top, and tied the extra layer around her waist.

With a huff, Anna placed her hands on her hips and stared down at the mess of metal below, unsure of what she was even looking at. She gnawed on her bottom lip anxiously — the last thing she wanted was to tinker with something and cause further damage.

She sighed heavily. Now it was going to take her twice as long to get to downtown Atlanta — and that was if she even made it that far on foot. The last she'd heard, Atlanta was a safe zone. The military had set up camp in the heart of the city with food, medical supplies, and weapons. Not only was it safe, but it was the last known location of her brother, who she'd lost contact with after communications dropped.

Heading to the city had been the original plan once the world went to shit, but after —

Anna felt a sudden pang in her chest, caught off guard by the rush of emotion hitting her. Tears sprung to her eyes as she quickly grabbed the necklace hanging around her throat — a feeling of calm instantly washing over her. It was a long silver chain that fell just beneath the collar of her tank top, two objects strung through the coil.

Her parents wedding rings.

Anna's mom had died first. Right at the beginning of the end. It was during the time when no one had any idea what exactly they were up against — had no idea that a bite meant 'game over'.

Her dad followed just a few weeks later. After her mom passed, her dad just sort of…faded away. He became a shell of a man, simply surviving for the sake of his daughter. And then she lost him too.

There had been a herd…they'd been surrounded…and her dad just…he just let go — provided himself as a distraction long enough for her to get away. Once she'd stumbled out into the open, she'd spun around, desperately searching for her father. And then she'd spotted him, the first wave of walkers finally closing in on him…tearing into his flesh…

But he didn't scream…he didn't cry…he smiled.

The weight of someone's sacrifice was a heavy burden to bear.

Anna squeezed the rings in the palm of her hand, grounding herself back to reality, shoving the horrible memories into the dark recesses of her mind. Now wasn't the time to deal with her trauma — she had a broken down truck, nearly ten miles left to travel, and only a few hours left until nightfall.

Anna let the rings fall back into place against her chest. She leaned over the engine, trying to figure out where exactly the smoke was coming from. If she could just get the truck started again, all her problems would —

"My, oh, my…an' what'd we have here?" a voice suddenly rang out.

Anna jolted and spun around, her eyes landing on a man standing just a couple feet away, staring at her in a way that made her feel incredibly exposed. He was dirty from head to toe, as if he'd been rolling around the woods for hours. His jeans were torn and ratted, similar to his faded black tank top and leather vest. She watched his mouth curl up into a sinister grin.

"Now what's a pretty lil' thing like yerself doin' all the way out here in Bumblefuck, Georgia?" he cooed, sneering at her.

Struggling for words, Anna slowly inched backwards. This was the first survivor she'd seen since her father died. She'd made it a priority to stay away from other people after that fateful day. Walkers were deadly. But people…people were cruel.

Anna cursed herself for forgetting her gun in the truck, leaving her defenseless.

"C'mon, darlin'. Ain't gonna bite ya," the man purred, taking a step closer. "Unless ya ask me ta'," he finished with a wink.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Anna managed to squeak out. It seemed like the right thing to say in the moment. But the man just laughed, loud and bellowing, as he rubbed a hand through his buzzed gray hair. Anna felt her heart pounding against her ribcage and wondered if the man could hear it from where he stood. "What'd you want?" she finally asked, feeling her backside hit the front of her truck.

The man feigned innocence. "Jus' tryna get ta' know ya. That a crime?" he shot back, eyes darkening, hands twitching at his sides, hovering a little too close to the knife strapped to his belt.

Anna swallowed the lump in her throat as she began to maneuver around the truck, towards the drivers side door. She knew if she could make it to the open window, she could reach inside and grab her pistol off the passenger seat.

But the stranger seemed to catch on right away. "Why ya runnin' from me? I asked ya a damn question, woman!" the man snarled, voice threatening.

Then suddenly, he was rapidly closing the gap between them.

Anna spun on her heels and ran for the door, desperately reaching through the window for her gun. But right as her fingertips grazed the handle, she felt the man wrap his hand around her ponytail and yank her backwards. Anna cried out in pain as he spun her around and slammed her into the truck, keeping one hand wrapped in her hair, the other pressed against her throat.

Her breaths came out in huffs, a tremor racking through her. The man ticked his tongue disapprovingly, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Jus' what in the hell were ya thinkin', sweetheart?"

Anna glared at the man, deciding to let her rage override her fear.

"Whatcha hidin' in there?" the man inquired, jerking his head towards the truck. "Let's take a looksie, shall we?"

The man turned his attention away, giving Anna the opportunity to slam her heel into the top of his foot. He howled in pain and released her, giving her enough space to throw a solid right hook, connecting with the edge of his jaw. He stumbled backwards as she spun around once more, her fingertips finally closing around the gun's handle.

Anna turned back around just as the man regained his balance, immediately launching himself at her, slamming her body back into the truck with a grunt. She swung the gun towards him, but he quickly slapped it away, a single shot ringing through the air.

Before Anna could do anything else, the man overpowered her, wriggling the gun from her grasp and throwing it off to the side. In one swift motion, he had her arms pinned on either side of her head, pushing his body into hers, holding her firmly in place. He chuckled, slightly out of breath, a gleam in his eye expressing that he'd truly enjoyed the little scuffle.

"Damn, girl. Ya got a nice arm on ya," he rumbled, licking the blood spilling from his split lip. "I like 'em feisty," he whispered, before spitting a glob of blood onto the pavement.

"I don't have much. Take it all. Just leave," Anna urged between heaving breaths.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk as he looked her up and down, hovering a moment too long on her chest, pressing himself a little too hardagainst her body. Anna spotted a light trace of white residue on the tip of his nose, noticed how dilated his eyes were, and figured the man as some type of junkie. "M' jus' lookin' ta' have a lil' fun, is all," he mused with a shrug, finally letting go of her hands and pulling out the hunting knife from his belt.

Holding the blade towards her, he bent down and scooped up her gun. "Ya know, I'm feelin' mighty generous today. Imma jus' take a couple things an' be on my merry way," the man spoke cooly, sniffing loudly as he rubbed his nose with the crook of his elbow, wiping away the cocaine remnants.

When Anna didn't respond, he went about his business. The man tucked her gun into the waistband of his pants and opened the door to her truck, rummaging through her belongings and throwing the things he didn't want onto the pavement.

Anna stared off into the trees, standing motionless. Part of her wanted to fight back — he was vulnerable, especially with his back to her. But he was also stronger, faster, and now had not one, but two weapons.

The man slipped out of the truck, empty-handed except for her water canteen he'd found and his hunting knife. "Ya weren't lyin' when ya said ya don't have much," he grunted, cracking the canteen open and taking a long swig, finishing the remaining amount of liquid. Anna felt her stomach drop — that had been allthe water she had left. He screwed the top back on and threw the now empty container onto the ground. "Ya ain't got shit, girl."

Anna remained quiet, seething silently. He once again looked her up and down, almost curiously, before his eyes settled on her neck. "Gimme that," he stated, pointing towards her necklace with his knife.

Anna's hand immediately came up to clutch the chain, her heart stilling. "It was my parents," she whispered, as if sentiment would make a difference.

The man scoffed irritably. "An' now it's mine."

Anna slowly lowered her hand, willing herself not to cry in front of the horrible man.

He reached towards her, his hand hovering just above her chest. His fingers lightly traced the top of her cleavage as he fished out the bottom part of the necklace. He puffed his chest out, clearly pleased with himself.

Anna clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from clawing his eyes out.

He examined the wedding rings in the palm of his hand. "Mighty fine rings ya got here," he stated with a low whistle before pulling the necklace up and over her head and sliding it over his own.

An emptiness settled over Anna's chest where the rings used to lay. The last remaining pieces of her mother and father now hung around the neck of a monster. "Look, you can have anything else, just…just not that necklace," Anna offered desperately. She simply couldn't let that man walk away with such a big piece of herself.

The man just chuckled, pulling out her gun from his waistband.

"You can have anything else —" Anna urged, taking a step towards him, not even remotely phased by the gun now pointed at her head.

"Back up, lil' lady. Hate ta' ruin that pretty face ya got there."

"You don't understand — "

"Are ya deaf or jus' fuckin' dumb? I said back —"

"I'll do anything!"

The man paused, that malicious gleam returning in his eye and it didn't take a genius to know where his mind was at. "Well, I'll be damned…are ya hittin' on me, sweetheart?" he taunted, licking his lips quickly, shoving the gun back into his waistband. "Maybe if ya ask nicely…"

Anna's body stilled and she immediately regretted opening her mouth. A spark of rage suddenly coursed through her. There was no way she was going to give this monster the satisfaction of begging. "Go to hell," she suddenly growled, enjoying the look of disbelief that shot across his face.

But he quickly recovered, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her close, moving to hold his knife at her neck. "Wanna say that again, girl," he snarled, towering over her intimidatingly, his face close enough where she could smell the remnants of cigarettes on his breath.

Anna swallowed the lump growing in her throat, refusing to back down. "Go to hell, asshole," she spat through clenched teeth.

The man suddenly smiled, his wicked grin sending a shiver down her spin. "Suit yourself," he shrugged casually.

And then he began digging the tip of his knife into her throat.