~Summer, 2004~

"There's no way in hell, I'm letting you throw your life away for that loser!"

Savannah's brother yelled, slamming his fist against her door frame to block her from leaving with her suitcase. With their father sick, and mother constantly working at the local dinner, they didn't realize what was happening, but he did. His bright, starry eyed little Savannah was leaving town, planning on doing it right before graduation or saying goodbye. Well he wasn't going to have it.

"Yeah well, sorry officer but you have no authority on the matter." She snapped, tossing her duffel out the window in response. "I love him, and he's gonna help me with my dream! Which is more than I can say about anyone else in this house."

"Oh, so your petty theivin' boyfriend who has been having you rebel against every rule in the goddamn book is gonna help you be a big time detective, huh?" He scoffed, thinking of the rap sheet he'd have on her had he been working on the force yet. "That's rich."

"We're being stupid teenagers, it's what you do in a small town. Besides, when we get to Atlanta, he's gonna work at his dad's firm, and support us while I go to school." She protested, letting out a huff of hair on her own. The suitcase made its way out the window next. Her hair was frizzing around her head, the blonde wisps against her pale skin contrasting against his darker tones. She glared at his uniform, holding a hand towards his belt. "So unless you're gonna cuff me to the bed. I'm going."

Before he had a chance to stop her, Savannah slipped out the window, her boyfriend's truck creaking under her weight. She scrambled into the passenger seat and told him drive, not looking twice at the town that she refused to be trapped in like everyone else she knew. Only once she couldn't see her house did she let go sigh. Wondering just what she was leaving in her wake.

~Summer, 2010~

"Detective Walsh speaking, how may I help you?" The voice was more tired than the last time he'd heard it, and held a lot more experience. She still had her accent, the drawl leading you in with its sweet sound.

"Annie?" His voice shook, looking down at his bloodied hands that held the card he found in his friends wallet as they admitted him to the hospital. "It's me... it's Shane"

There was the slight sound of a muffled curse before her voice rang out, iron in barbs she threw. "Well hey there, Big Bro, due what do I owe the unwelcome surprise of you finding me?"

He was silent for a second, looking down at his hands as he slumped against the hospital wall. How could he tell her? That there Mom was gone? That their father was a drunk who rotted away as he waited in denial for his little girl to come home? It had been six years, there were so many reasons for him to call, but the one right now had him scared for them both.

"Well are you gonna grow a pair and tell me, or are you just gonna breath in my ear?" She snapped, her ignorance providing more pain than bliss at the moment. "You called me, remember, so I shouldn't be-"

"Rick got shot and is in a coma, Savannah Marie!" He burst out causing a few people around him to jump. Letting out a groan he tried to calmly explain the situation."We...we were at a shootout with two suspects and there was a third one that dispatch didn't know about and…"

He trailed off as she whispered out a choked sob. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, or so he imagined. "Look Rick's got you, he's got Lori and Carl….he'll pull through."

"Yeah, yeah he will." Shane sniffed, not convinced, and hurt that she sounded so confident in where Rick's life stood. "Course I knew that, but I keep thinking about how I lost you, and now if I lose him-"

"You didn't lose me Shane." She cut him off, plowing past her own guilt. "I just had some growing up to do. Unfortunately, it took me going off grid to realize it."

The line was silent again they both struggled for words. Four years of regret and resentment resting on their shoulders. Finally, he cleared his throat, knowing he was going to be out of minutes soon.

"Yeah well...now that you have, don't be a stranger."

Savannah held the phone to her ear not sure what to say, as he rambled off his number, writing it down more out of habit than anything. After, when she still couldn't find anything, she put the phone on the receiver. Running her hands down her face.

~Two Weeks into the Outbreak~

"How is he doing?" The question seemed lame, given all they needed to talk about, but she had to at least pretend that she was still doing this for Rick.

Rick who had been there for her growing up. Rick who had been a brother when she pushed hers away. Rick who kept her connected to her small home town no matter how far away she ran from it. Rick: the one who helped her keep tabs on Shane so that she didn't have to worry about him as much. The one who never judged her for her decisions, and who she really wished was on the other end of the phone right now.

"He's the same." Shane said, clearing his throat, knowing none of these things. "Still no sign of him waking yet...but, he's stable."

"Shane, is Rick coming with the Medevac that I just got a call about?" She felt her voice break slightly. "Is he coming to Atlanta?"

"Just barely, but yeah, gonna take Lori and Carl up myself." She tried to picture what was happening around him from the muffled noises around him. "Just with whatever's goin' on right now, we're lucky he was admitted before."

She sighed, thinking about the carnage she helped clean up this morning. "I know, the same has been happening here. Hospital was just cleared late last night, had to sent a team to clean it up. Anybody showing symptoms is shot at the door now."

"Jesus Sav-"

"Part of the job, so what did you want to tell me about Rick?"

"Right, of course business as usual...just like you ta-"

"Shane..." She warned, irritated.

"Right, Right...Just, make sure he doesn't wake up alone, alright? We can't go on the copter with him, and Carl doesn't want his dad to be scared."

At the mention of the young boy, her anger diminished, a pang in her chest as she thought of him being there. "Yeah, yeah of course. You tell him that I'll be by his daddy's side from the second he lands, the minute you guys get here. He's in good hands."

"Thanks, Annie." Shane murmured, a sigh of relief rolling off him. "I don't know what we would do if you weren't there."

"Well, let's just save the conversation on the pros and cons of me leaving home for a time where people can prevent it, shall we?" She laughed awkwardly, pulling at a loose thread of her jacket. "We have a lot to talk about."

"That we do, but Sav?"

"Yeah, Shane."

"You make sure you make so we can have it, okay?"

She paused, the phone shaking in her hand. "You-You too, Shane..." She said, hanging up before she said anything she'd regret.

~Evac Day~

"God Damn it, John! Where's my medevac? I've been waiting at the hospital for an hour!"

"Walsh, you're brother's town. They sent the helicopter, but-"

"But what, John. Stop dancing around the questions."

"It was overrun. Nobody got out..." Savannah's anger left her as she dropped the phone with a clank. She couldn't even remember how she got on the floor, but the receiver swung next to her head, the voice on the other side fading and growing louder every couple of seconds.

"Deputy Walsh?" Silence "Savannah?"

"No..." she whispered, her voice shaking in disbelief.

"SAV? God damn it, Sav talk to me!" John yelled, but she ignored him, still in shock.

"Rick...Lori….Carl….." Then, as if she hadn't been wondering about when he was gonna call her back, it hit her. "Shane…"

~Three Months Ago~

Savannah's POV

"Shit, Shit, Double Shit!!"

I thundered through the twelfth precinct's hall, letting a few rounds loose behind me, only knowing from a few tell-tale thuds that they even hit anything. I kept my breath steady as I ran, looking for a way to escape this crazy nightmare-turned-reality chasing me. The sheriff was down, and all of my men were falling as powerless as I was to stop all of the people- or what used to be people- attacking the building as I tried to make my way through. I wouldn't be able to shoot them all down, nor could I properly shoot them now. The only way I could make myself was to not look and hope I wasn't wasting precious ammo. They were friends, family, men and women who were being released. Sure some of them were in lock-up, but the bars kept them at a safe distance from everyone else. They were trapped food that these things got to first.

Ever since that rash of fevers broke out across the state, or the nation, hell maybe even the world, people were dying only to come back as some undead remnants from one of the stupid first shooter video game my ex used to obsess over. It was all too surreal at first, the hospital going into lockdown, the shootings of anyone who portrayed symptoms. But right now, with our proximity to the hospital, the station was getting the brunt of the attack, and it made everything all the more real. It started off as a normal shift when suddenly I was forced to watch my men were getting attacked and eaten by the very people whose lives they swore to serve and protect.

I pumped my legs forward, making a list of things I would need in my mind. They couldn't move that fast, so I had an advantage as I headed to my office. Upon reaching my roommate's desk, I was able to dispatch a few more of them and grab the walkies, car keys, and the keys to the weapons cage. The next step required me to use my baton to force my way through the door, which was a slight snag, since I had forgotten to think about the bottleneck effect my door would create. However, thanks to the knife at my side I was able to make quick work of them, grateful that weren't very many following me. Moving to the cage a few minutes later, I grabbed five different handguns, a couple of silencers and as much ammo as I could carry. I grabbed a shotgun, more for who I was with since my proficiency laid with handguns.The only thing left to do was to get to the garage, meet up with my partner, amscray and make it back home to see if my family had managed to survive. Ever since I had gotten the call about Rick's town-my hometown-I had things packed in both of our cars ready to leave at a minutes notice. Forcing myself to focus, I moved to the garage. Little did I know what I was to find.

John was lying on the floor, the dead banging on the door leading outside. There were a few more coming behind me, as I threw mine shut, dropping to where he was. He was pretty bad, his neck was torn, and he had bites along his arms. He must have come inside through the door and that was why so many were after him. I pulled him into my lap, and ripping the bottom of his shirt to make a wrap for his neck. There was no way he was going to survive, but I needed to give him his best shot. Just as I held the fabric up to wrap it, he lifted an arm up, pausing my movement.

"No...You'll need an out." He rasped, pointing to the doors and how weak they were getting under the unrelenting forces. "I'll c-cover you."

"Don't be an idiot." I snapped, wrapping his arm as he gasped in my arms. "You're getting out of here with me, and that's an order."

I tied the shirt tight, careful that it wasn't choking him at the same time and pulled him up. The door crashed open with the dead pouring around us. I took a few shots, and tried to drag John with me, his body getting more and more limp with each passing step. He shot behind me as I shot in front, but when we got to my car, he stumbled, making us fall against the side of it. He was fading fast and he wasn't letting me help him. I grit my teeth as I forced him up into a sitting position next to me, keeping watch as they moved towards us among the other cars.

"John, don't you dare do this to me." I warned, noticing the light fading from the older man's eyes, "We are going to get out of here together; I owe you at least that much."

He laughed humorless, his breaths growing shallow as he weakly clasped my shoulder, "Get out of here, Rookie. You owe yourself that much. Find your family. Survive: I know you can.." I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head, letting out a few barking coughs, "You're running out of time, don't let your stubbornness get you killed." He gave me a small small as I searched his body for some way to save him. "Go."

I sat there powerlessly as his hand slipped off of my shoulder and he let out one last breath. I shook him slightly, trying to get him to stay away, but his eyes went blank and he stopped fighting. Stopped doing everything altogether. I ran a hand through my hair, not sure what to do with him, but not having the luxury of time. They were moving closer to me, their moans and groans faint against the blood pounding in my ears. After a few more seconds I didn't have, I steeled myself and did what needed to be done. Getting into my car, I pulled forward, crashing the garage door door on a bunch of the bastards as they swarmed around my partner's body and tore into his still warm flesh. I drove away, fighting the urge to go back and kill them all, and left my home in search of a place I thought I'd never return to.

~Now~

The fat from my most recent hunting trip sizzled on the grate I'd made from broken parts of my Coleman stove, half of John's camping supplies having been lost or scrapped for important bits with the need to travel as lightly as possible. My Camping backpack wasn't exactly light, but with the car breaking down months ago, I'd been starting to leave things behind, dismantling anything that could be used against me. I had about a week's worth of MRE's left and the rabbit would last me a couple of days. The main issue right now was water, and I ran out of filters for my water bottle, and there was a limited supply of purification tablets to begin with. The bulkiest part of my bag was all the weapons I had and even then, they were cut in half due to a run in with a small group about a month ago. It was ended amicably enough given that I threatened their leader with a bullet to the head and a knife to the gonads simultaneously.

The past months had been quiet, but bearable. I was doing what I want when and where I wanted to and no one told me what to do about it. I was camping and enjoying the outdoors by myself for the first time in years, and there was no stench of the city around me. Everything was clear and I could practice my survival whenever I wanted. Not that the hypothetical and mechanical motions could ever replace the hands on, application of practical use, but it would do for now. There was a moving base camp that I could leave in the morning to go for a run and wash myself and laundry at the stream. Overall, this whole fiasco was a much needed wake up call to unplug from the world and enjoy nature around us. Though I highly doubtful that anyone thought that outside of my twisted mind.

There was a rustling from behind me, making me reach for my shotgun as I became more aware of my surrounding again. It was a louder weapon and not really necessary since this area had been clear, and there weren't any of the undead nearby to hear it. The only reason I had the thing was the movement was working opposite the afternoon breeze and it sounded bigger than the occasional squirrel or rabbit that would wander over here. Even still, maybe it was a deer and I'd be able to cure meat for a few weeks. It quieted suddenly, a faint intake of breath barely heard. I squared my shoulder, and spun around, pointing the gun in front of me only to be met by the sight of a crossbow being aimed towards my forehead. I stood stock still, not wanting to give in, or allow an opening to be shot.

The man in question was thin, all lean muscles under the tattered, sleeveless t-shirt he had on. He had dark brown hair that was shaggy, but trimmed so that it fell close to his head, with these calculatingly piercing blue eyes. Everything about him screamed hunter, redneck, a natural. He had clearly been doing thing a lot longer than when society crashed. He was taking me in at the same time, neither of us saying a word as we aimed our weapons at each other. Finally, he spoke, his deep voice the first I'd heard in weeks.

"You gonna lower yer weapon?" It came out a lot more like a demand, making me bristle, shifting my gun towards his crossbow.

"I'll lower mine, if you lower yours."

My voice was a lot deeper than I remembered it being, my throat not accustomed to being used outside of breathing and eating lately, but I didn't let that show. There was no telling what he thought was going on with my small campsite around the tiny fire with my slowly burning rabbit popping next to me. If this standoff made me waste away a week's hunt, I'd be pissed. I watched as he shifted his gaze between the weapons and me, as if considering what to do. After a little bit, he nodded, and we lowered our weapons in a synchronized, drop of the forearms. We still stood a few feet from each other, sizing up whatever we were. I took in the crossbow and, upon noticing the fletchings on his bolts, let out a small, humorless laugh.

I held an arm up towards the weapon, explaining the sentiment to him when he tilted his head in an agitated show of confusion. "You've been the one hitting my squirrels. Got a 'coon from me once or twice too."

"Ain't mah fault you're too slow to catch 'em." He snapped, looking to the grill behind me. "You're terrible at cookin' too. That rabbit you've got there is burnin'."

I set my jaw, his voice and accent getting on my nerves, "I can cook, just fine, thank you." I backed up to be next to the cooking meat with a scowl. "You just have bad timing and I would rather eat some burnt rodent than have a bolt through the forehead. Last I checked, you don't really walk away from those."

He let out a short humph while I pulled the rabbit onto my mess kit with my multi tool. I looked toward him and swore softly, cursing my own moral code and grabbing the bowl from the kit as well. As I picked at some of the charred bits, I held it out toward him with half of the semi-burned meat. He eyed it for a few seconds, looking at me like I was crazy. Which, I may have been, this man just tried to kill me and now I'm sharing what sparse food I had. Finally, after watching me take a bite from what I'd offered, he accepted it. As if I would waste good poison on some redneck hunter anyway.

"You know, you're lucky I don't have the immunity to or the possession of Iocane Powder." I mumbled, taking another bite of the succulent meat. "You'd have most definitely lost the battle of wits."

"What the hell are you yammering about?" I snorted, looking at the poised food from his frozen stance as he looked at me strangely.

"Nothing...sorry, I haven't really talked to anyone since, well all this shit went down. I'm not exactly good at social interaction anymore. And I forget we all have different literary backgrounds."

He gave me a look, but didn't say anything as we finished the rabbit and I killed the fire. The thick humidity and Georgian heat wasn't very welcoming, so the added heat needed to go. Or at least that's what I told myself as I went through my pack afterwards as well, avoiding the gaze of the hunter. Really, it was just that my statement was more accurate than I cared to admit. I'd spent so much time isolated from society and wasn't sure what to do about it. He clearly wasn't much of a talker either, which didn't force me to assimilate back into anything. After finally having enough of his constant observation of my movements, I cleared my throat, pointing towards the woods with a befuddled expression.

"So uh….you alone, or do you have a group waiting for you to bring back dinner or something?" I hedged, trying to hint that he was overstaying his welcome, what little there was of it.

"Got a group." He shrugged. "Been trackin' a deer I injured a few miles back. Saw your fire and figured you mighta seen it."

I looked around the woods, thinking back to if there were other disturbances to my silent solitude today. "Sorry, can't say that I have." I hoisted my now lighter pack onto my shoulders, scattering the discarded materials around with my foot. "But thanks for providing the first company I've had in while. If you'll excuse me, I have some miles to cover and a camp to make before it gets too dark. I've stayed too close to the city for too long."

"You seriously been living out here all by yourself, girl?"

The question made me stop, my back having been turned to him for the first time since he'd showed up. Whipping around, I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm twenty-six years old, not some little high school girl." He was standing now, as he started to head back towards the woods where he came from. "And if you must know, yes, I've been by myself since the things went to shit in the city."

"Why don't you help me hunt some venison and you can have a bit?" He pointed to the scattered remnants of my fire. "Least I could do after you shared your meal."

"You wanted to shoot me not five minutes ago, and now you want me to trust you to work together on a hunt?"

"Never said I trust you, but at least this way I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't follow me back camp to try and steal from us." I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically making him grow angry. "And you were the one that showed the kindness first! So are ye comin' or not?"

I shrugged, adjusting the bag to properly rest on the hip straps and off of my bag. "Don't know how much use I'll be with this on my back, but sure. 'S not like I've got anywhere better to go."

He nodded slowly, turning abruptly to pick up the crossbow and making his way around the path he'd shown up from, not even paying attention to whether or not I followed. With a shake of my head, I followed him down the road, moving as slowly and quietly as I could with the bag, my knife in one hand and my pistol with a silencer in the holster on my side. We walked quietly for a long time, his weapon poised wherever he walked, just as my stance was ready with the knife. It wasn't until it got dark that I spoke, the woods growing harder to navigate.

I looked to see if he was showing any signs of stopping and shook my head. He would probably keep walking all night and into the morning if he could. His focus was steady and locked onto the signs of the animal around him. A bit of blood on the shrubs, some hoof prints in the ground and the nature of the impressions. I would probably stop and he wouldn't even notice. I took off my bag silently when we reached a clearing big enough for my tent and started to look for firewood, tightening the ponytail that I pulled my hair into earlier today. My luck wasn't as good as I thought though, since he had stopped and was looking back at me impatiently. Looking side to side, I snuck up to him so that I could make up an excuse for my escape attempt.

"Look, I hate to be a burden, I really do…" I said, my voice low when I caught up to him. "But I think we're gonna want to set up camp for the night. We won't be any good if we find the thing after straining our eyes all night looking for it."

"Tracks are pretty good...should catch up should catch up to it in a day or two anyway." He muttered, setting off to get wood for a small fire while I set up my tent.

We worked in silence for a while, the fire low so that we could see what we were doing, but be able to alert anyone or thing to where we were. I set up the inside of the tent to have my sleeping bag as well as a blanket, folding up a sweater for my own pillow and placing the small one I had with the blanket. I got out, and sat across from him at the fire. Neither of us spoke still, our legs cross and rests resting on our knees. The dying embers popped and snapped until there was nearly nothing left and still nothing was said. Finally, I cleared my throat, pushing myself up.

"There's a pillow and a blanket that you can use, if you decide you want some sleep." I pointed to my watch, "This goes off in a couple of hours and I'll take the next watch."

I walked towards the tent, pausing when I heard him call out a soft, "Wait."

I turned, raising an eyebrow at him, for what felt like the hundredth time today, "Yeah?"

"What should I call you?" His wording was strange, but there was a genuine curiosity in his voice.

"You mean other than 'Girl'?" I scoffed. He gave no reply and I moved on. "I'm Savannah, but most people call me Sav...what about you?" He sat there for a moment not replying so I sighed, and turned towards the tent, "Or not, that's cool too."

I had just finished closing the mesh window of the tent when I heard a soft murmur from coming outside.

"Daryl…." It said, "My name is Daryl."

I awoke to the small beeping noise that emitted from my watch, a couple days later, quickly shutting it off so as to not wake my company. He wasn't quite as much of a morning person as myself, and I tended to work better getting my things done when he was still sleeping anyway. I quickly packed up my things and grabbed my bottle of three in one cleaner, a change of clothing, and a towel. There was a stream nearby and I desperately needed to wash away the past few days' humidity. Stretching out of the tent, I placed a silencer-equipped desert eagle in the back of my pants and sheathed a machete to my thigh. Glancing around our surroundings, I looked for any signs of our prey. It was about day three of following this supposed deer and we hadn't been stopping until dark. So far, all we've seen are its tracks as we got closer to and closer and closer to Daryl's encampment.

Washing quickly, I checked a few of the snare's we'd set up last night and grabbed several squirrels, and a rabbit that I figured would make for a decent breakfast. I had just finished skinning and gutting the rodent and started making it into a stew with some water I'd purified from the stream and one of my last bouyon cubes. I added a pack of dried vegetables from my pack and stirred, thinking back to the way my family always teased me that I camped a little too fancy for them. My dad always said that I wasn't one to survive when I camped, but more of one to experience. If only he could see me now that the world had gone to shit and I made my own way through the state. Shaking my head to clear away the memories, I left the stew to simmer and went to go wake up Daryl as had been our routine the past few days.

Instead, I found him already placing his folded blanket and pillow onto my pack, his crossbow slung onto his back. He gave me a brief nod, and headed out, leaving me to place the items in my pack and toss it out, working on taking down camp. While I did this, he took over cooking, sipping occasionally from the water canteen I'd lent him and filled before my morning bath. Once I was done, we ate, cleaned up, killed the fire, and were off. We found that it was easy to work like this; silently and swiftly. There was a separation of force along with the cooperation between us, allowing for each to do what we specialized in without getting in the other's way. Though I had only known him for a few days, it was clear that we made a hell of a team. Maybe it would help when I made my pitch to his group; having two hunters with a larger group would increase survival rates, and keep Daryl insured when he went out for food.

After a few more hours, we could hear hushed voices getting louder the more we followed the trail of blood Daryl and I spotted a few yards back. There weren't many of them talking, but after hearing some feminine shrieks earlier, I'm guessing it was more than the two or three masculine voices we could hear now. I looked to Daryl warily, moving to pull out my machete only for him to hold out a steadying hand and break through the bushes. Taking a breath, I realized that we probably reached his group.

I hung back slightly, not quite ready to meet them. I still didn't know if Daryl trusted me or if I was willing to join a group of people in a world where we could all die at any time. As if sensing it, he turned towards me and nodded, inviting me to join him."

"Okay," I whispered to myself. "Time to renter what's left of society I guess."