Welcome to Life's An Uphill Battle!
This is my first fanfic, so it might be alittle rough at first. Please let me know if I have any major errors, I will try to fix them! Also be sure to review and let me know what you think. This story takes place around the time of season 3, it will not follow the tv events though some things may pop up. I am basically using the characters and setting for an entirely different plot that involves several OC's. This will eventually be a Rick/OC story, sorry Lori but I don't really like you.
I only own my OC's, anything TWD belongs to AMC!
-ContestingGirl ;-P
My breath comes hard and fast as I sprint through the thick Georgia woods with my wavy golden blonde hair flying behind me. I can hear the heavy footfalls of the men pursuing me which causes me to push my long legs faster. They are far slower than I but have guns, where as I have nothing to protect myself with. The only reason I've even survived it this far is my intelligence, ability to go unseen, and athleticism. I actually earned a full ride scholarship to NKU for track, not that it really matters anymore. Nothing matters anymore for that matter.
The sound of gunfire startles me and I dive sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding a bullet. My chest feels as if it is about to explode, as does my head. Black begins to cover the outer edges of my vision and I desperately try to free my storm grey eyes of the annoying film. The forest makes a steep drop before me and not wanting to take any chances I launch myself over the edge. When my feet slam to the ground I take off at a dead sprint again, only this time my knees are killing me. Unable to jump down the steep drop, the men fire their guns after me. One bullet whizzes past my head causing me to stumble and fall.
Desperately I try to push myself up but fall back to the ground in exhaustion. Another bullet hits just to my left, giving me enough incentive to pull myself to my feet and start off at a dead sprint again. I don't look back as I tear through thick undergrowth and don't stop even after the sound of gunfire has long since passed. Fear alone drives my exhausted body forward. I don't want to be anywhere nears those vicious men, or biters (as I've come to call the reanimated dead) who will be moving towards the sound of the guns.
As dawn approaches, I find myself weak and exhausted. The sound of water draws me and I am greeted by the sight of a clear, deep stream. Unable to continue any longer I collapse by its edge and am lost to darkness.
Dream
I sit upon an old tire swing beneath and equally old oak as a young girl, maybe ten. My small face is buried deep within one of my favorite childhood novels, Anne of Greene Gable and light breeze tosses my blond curls, much to my younger self's dismay.
In the distance, my mother steps out onto the wrap around porch of our old farm house and calls out to me, "Carly! Dinner's ready!"
My little head shoots up immediately and I tear down the hill towards the house. I bound up the stairs on my freakishly long legs and slide past my mother, whose green eyes sparkle down at me as I pass. In the kitchen my older sister Lucy and my younger brother Jesse are already seated at the table with my father. A plethora of food is placed upon the table, waiting for us to eat after prayer.
Once I am seated my father bows his head and begins, "Bless us oh Lord and these, your gifts, which we are about to receive through your bounty our Christ, our Lord. Amen."
"Amen," we chorus in unison before digging into the meal. Jesse quickly scoops all of the mashed potatoes onto his plate which causes the rest of us to chuckle. Our light banter is interrupted by the sound of the front door banging open. A gruff looking man steps into the kitchen, a scowl upon his face.
"I would like to speak with you Greg Johnson…."
My father cuts him off quickly and gives him a hard stare, "Let's take this outside shall we."
The man clenches his jaw but nods. I look to my mother curiously and notice her terrified expression. Fear begins to worm its way into my stomach and I ask my mother in my ten year old voice, "Mama, why does that man want Daddy?"
She shakes her head uncertainly but replies in a calm voice, "I'm not sure baby. He used to work for you Daddy training' the horses, but he was mean to the horses so we had to fire him."
"Was he meaning to Pepper!" I shout. No one dared lay a hand on my pony.
My mother gives a smile, "No he didn't touch Pepper. He dealt with the barrel horses, not your pony."
"Good."
My mother simply shakes her head at me and smiles. After that our conversation returns to normal, until we hear the loud sound of a gunshot. I jump from my chair in fright and am immediately running towards the door. Next thing I know I'm being held down by Lucy as Mamma runs out instead. From my place under my sister I hear the loud cry of my mother and the sputtering of an old engine as barrels down a gravel drive.
End Dream/Memory
My eyes bolt open and sit up rapidly. I find myself gasping for breath and trying desperately not to cry. It has been a long time since I dreamed about my father's death or any memory for that matter. I was ten years old when he was shot by an angry ex-ranch hand, Franklin Harvel, and was killed. We never saw the man again, and neither did authorities. He simply disappeared.
Life was difficult for a long time after that. My mother tried to keep the farm going, but she didn't know the first thing about breeding good barrel horses. By the time I was fourteen we were completely broke. The bank took over the farm and we were forced to say our goodbyes. From there we went to Cincinnati where my mother was offered a job at P&G. I was able to continue riding, but found it hard to trust people enough to make friends.
My first year of high school is when I really hit rock bottom. I started getting into drugs and drinking around that time. A party I was at got out of hand and the cops were called, I was found in the possession of pot and spent the night in jail with a warning that if I was caught again I would be arrested and tried for drug possession.
In an attempt to get me into something else my mother forced me onto the track team. At first I despised it, but my coach saw potential and introduced me to high jump. There I met a senior by the name of David Harper. He saw something in me that many people didn't and helped me turn my life around in a matter of weeks. By the end of that track season I had risen in the ranks to become one of the best sprinters and high jumpers in the state. From there I managed to get back on the right track, graduating high school as the valedictorian and getting a full ride to NKU where I majored in Wildlife Biology.
When the world went to shit I was on my way to vacation in Florida and had decided to stay in Atlanta for a few days. Being a young 25 year old I largely ignored the news reports, until the dead began to come back to life before my very eyes. I didn't even think when I jumped into my old Ford pick-up and barreled out of Atlanta. My gas didn't last very long, hence the fact I am still in Georgia and not Ohio but at least I'm out of the thick of it.
The world is actually pretty peaceful here. Not too many biters come this way and the ones that do I'm able to out run with ease. I wish I had a gun, but I didn't have one with me at the time of my escape from Atlanta and there aren't exactly any gun depots in the woods. Growing up on a farm had its advantages; one of them is being able to shoot a gun with deadly accuracy. What can I say; my father was an avid hunter. My siblings and I were shooting the moment we could walk.
I heave out a tired sigh and push myself to my feet. There's no sense in dwelling here for too long. In the wild ride that was last night I lost my backpack that had all my supplies, so I literally have nothing. No food, no water and no way to get it either. Which means I'm going to either A. find a highway so I can scavenge cars or B. find a town so I can scavenge stores. Neither idea appeals to me. Highways and towns are usually crawling with biters, which is why I am in the woods in the first place.
If I remember correctly my map said that there was a prison not too far from where I had been and I ran north all night, which had been the direction of the prison so I shouldn't be too far from it. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if the place was overrun but it's still worth a shot. Before I start off I decide to climb a tall pine tree in hopes of seeing the prison in the distance to better know which direction I need to travel in.
Carefully I place my feet and hands on different branches and begin to climb. Thankfully, I don't weigh all that much and am able to make it above the other trees in height. Sure enough in the distance I can see a lone guard tower looming above the forest. Forgotten out here in the middle of now where, most likely with all its prisoners still inside. Deciding not to dwell on such morbid thoughts I climb down from my perch and set off at a jog. I want to reach the prison before nightfall and get out as fast as possible. Speed is going to be vital if I want to go unnoticed. Let's just hope my luck doesn't turn sour.