She never could have known.
She never could have known this would happen. Looking around, seeing the dead bodies littering the ground, seeing the blood pooling around her legs, she could do nothing but stare. This was nothing new – the blood and guts and gore had just started becoming a daily routine for her.
But now, a high pitched ringing in her ears and her hands coated in thick globs of blood, grasping at the still body in her arms, desperately trying to pull him closer to herself, as if it would help. As if pulling him closer would share her warmth with his quickly lowering temperature. As if it would bring him back. Bring him back in the proper way, that is. Seeing his lifeless eyes and bloody body unresponsive to her touches, seeing the people she loved the most coming towards her with the intent of ripping her apart and eating her insides, only for her to then come back as one of them – it opened her eyes.
She was only vaguely aware of the fact that her bother was screaming out her name, loud enough to attract more of them. Loud enough for his voice to crack as they grabbed at his shoulders and pulled him back, trying to get a taste of his flesh and blood.
She could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. Or was that the bits of brain matter that had landed on her head after she had shot one of them in their rotting head? She couldn't tell. She didn't care.
She looked down, at the body in her arms. He was dead. He's been dead for a while now, and she knows she shouldn't still be holding him. He would be one of them soon. He would attack her, all traces of who he used to be and his memories of her would all be gone, soon. And yet she couldn't help but smile sadly at the older man in her arms.
And even as she could feel the mass of cold, deceased flesh began to move in her arms, still, she smiled.
No, she never could have known.
She sighs quietly to herself, stretching her aching arms while staying in the rotted and nearly broken down cot she was laying in. It would make her clothing smell pretty bad, sure, but it was far more comfortable than the floor.
She glances to the door on the other side of the room, blinking slowly as the remnants of sleep still clouded her mind. You would think after all this time, she would have learned to wake up quicker.
It is, after all, the end of the world.
She stretches her back to the best of her ability, yawning quietly, shuddering as she breathed in her own foul breath. She hadn't brushed her teeth in almost a week now. They hadn't been lucky enough to happen across a house or even some luggage littering the streets with some toothpaste. She'd be fine without a toothbrush, but her breath was getting a bit too foul, even for her.
But that was just the way it was now. She doesn't have the luxury of getting to brush her teeth squeaky clean every night like she used to. She doesn't get to take warm showers and scrub herself raw with nice smelling soap, or to cleanse her dirty auburn-red hair with strawberry shampoo. Hell, she barely has enough water nowadays to last more than a few days.
So she sighs quietly, a sadness coming over her as she remembers what used to be. Sleeping in on the weekends, riding her bike to college in the early fall mornings, smiling when she saw the clouds get dark with the promise of snow. Now she could only groan in protest when she knew snow was coming. It meant she would have to stock up on warmer clothing. It meant that she would have to find shelter earlier and earlier. It meant that the sun would go down even quicker each and every winter morning. Most of all, it meant those things had an advantage over her every day, considering they don't seem to feel or be bothered by the freezing cold.
She used to love the cold. Now it's simply a warning for darker times.
Allison is brought out of her tired remembrance when she hears a quiet shuffling of feet below her. Her eyes go wide and her breath hitches in her throat. Below her. There was someone – something – downstairs. She looks off to the side, realizing her brother was gone. Fuck. He could be in danger, unaware of the creature lurking below. He could be already have been caught by the monster.
It was that final thought that made her jump into action, pushing herself forward up and off of the broken down cot, grabbing the silver colored gun she kept her by side at all times, and racing toward the closed door to the room quietly, not bothering to grab her pack of items. Her brother was more important.
Standing by the door, she slowed her breathing as to hear what was on the other side. Her heart pounded in her ears so loud she swore whatever was downstairs would be able to hear it.
Nothing.
There was a silence all throughout the abandoned home she was accommodating, silent enough for her to hear the rats running through the wooden floors. Just when Allison thought that maybe, just maybe she had imagined the sound, it came again. A small, quiet shuffling of feet below her. She paused for only a second before turning the doorknob, opening the door as quietly but quickly as she could.
Peeking her head out of the door, she looked to both sides. Nothing. So she crept out, sneaking down the small hallway silently, looking for any signs of life. Looking for any signs of the dead.
She knelt down onto her knees and looked through the wooden railing that showed the downstairs living room. When she saw nothing, she crept down slowly. Each step made a creaking noise, and she flinched at each and every one of them, when finally, finally she had made her way downstairs and into the living room. She listened intently, her gun aimed at the ground as she moved through the room. Her finger tapped the trigger hesitantly. She had to be prepared for anything.
She was standing by the door to the kitchen when she heard it again – a quiet shuffling of shoes on the wooden boards of the kitchen floor, this time accommodated with the quiet clinking of glasses knocking into each other, and a silent string of curses. Allison raised her gun in preparation, placing her hand on the door, ready to swing it open and fire into the room –
Wait, curses?
She's frozen in her spot for a moment before she sighs heavily, loosening her body and lowering her gun. Her hand is still on the door, even as she pushes it open to see the sight that suddenly made a lot more sense than what she had assumed before.
Her brother, Jackson, was carrying two glass cups in one hand and a half-full pack of granola bars in the other, along with a half full water bottle held by the cap in between his teeth, struggling to push back a few other glasses that threatened to fall on him from the top shelf he had apparently been searching through.
Allison watched on at the scene for a second before clearing her throat, a look of bored frustration on her features. Jackson turned quickly, causing a glass bowl to fall and land on the counter top, shattering into pieces. He flinched at the sound, but didn't break contact with his sister. The room is silent.
"What the hell are you doing..?" Allison asked. Her voice was still thick with sleep, angry at being awoken so early in the morning just to find her idiot brother struggling against a few dishes.
"...getting breakfast?" He responded, although muffled from the bottle in his mouth, questioningly. His blue eyes were wide with surprise at being caught in the act of... whatever he had been doing before.
"Really?" She leaned against the doorway, raising a brow in question. " 'Cause it looks more like you're tryn'a pick a fight with a buncha glass dishes." She glanced down at the broken bowl pointedly. "And losing."
Jackson sighed, placing both cups down on the counter, sweeping away bits of glass shards with his gloved hand. Once done, he grabs the water bottle from his mouth, licks his lips to wet them, and speaks clearly,
"I was trying to bring you breakfast, Allie. Y'know," he waved his arms as he spoke, threatening to break another glass in the process, "like a good brother does?"
Allison glanced down for a moment, taking in the messy appearance of her brother's outfit. His grey shirt underneath was so dirty you would have never known it was white at some point, and his dark green jacket on top of it was no better. His boots were sturdy and heavy, and though she hated the way they'd make noise on the creaky floorboards of this house, those thick boots had saved her brother's life more than once when the dead had grabbed at his legs in an attempt to grab a quick snack. She sighs quietly, pushing herself off of the wall and stepping forward to grab the box of granola bars from his hands. He doesn't move to stop her.
"All the good brothers died months ago," she spoke in a level voice, throwing on her best pair of puppy-dog eyes so he knew she was only being sarcastic.
Her brother scoffed and bumped his shoulder into hers as he walked past, shaking his head with a little grin on his face.
She grins, taking a bar from the box and setting it down on the counter top. Turning around, she heads out of the room and begins ascending back up to her cot. She wouldn't fall back asleep now, that was for sure. Once she was up, she was up for good. It was starting to get light out now, if the sunlight peeking through the living room window was anything to go by, so they may as well start their travels again now that they were both rested.
"C'mon, we need to pack and get going."
Jackson simply hums in acknowledgment, taking out a can of sliced fruit to have for breakfast as he follows her up the stairs.
It takes only a few moments for the both of them to pack up what little items they were carrying with them in the house or on their persons into their vehicle. It was an old, beaten up blue pickup truck that had belonged to their father, a mechanic. It looked like it could break down any second now, but she looked at it affectionately. It'd gotten them through hell and back, so she wouldn't give up on the blue piece of junk until it officially died out on them.
She had felt so guilty taking the truck out of her father's garage back when the outbreak started, but at that point he hadn't even been home and she had needed a vehicle to find her brother. To this day, she still wonders if maybe he'd gone back home, if he'd tried to escape with it only to find it missing...
"I'll take left, you go right," Jackson speaks up, tearing the girl out of her thoughts. He was standing by the truck's bed, having just placed their pack of food items under the blue tarp that they used to hide their supplies from view in the bed of the truck. Allison nods, though she knows he probably didn't see the movement, pursing her lips as she pats the gun in her waistband. Jackson turns to leave in his own direction.
They were currently residing in an old, abandoned neighborhood. But, really, was there any neighborhoods nowadays that weren't considered old and abandoned? It had only been a few weeks, maybe a little over a month, since the outbreak, since everything went downhill for the world – and yet that had been plenty of time for everything to die out in the populated areas and for the larger places to be left behind and forgotten. It was sad to look at, yes, but it made for a wonderful place to scavenge for supplies for the road.
And so, Allison began searching through the houses on the right side of the neighborhood, starting from the house they had just left, which they had already picked clean the night before, after first clearing it of the creatures roaming about.
It didn't take long for her to meet back up at their original spot, watching her brother wave lazily to her while he leaned against the truck. He smiled, gesturing to the little supplies he had found.
"What'd you find?" She asked aloud, despite seeing the meager little pile of scraps for herself.
"Not much, I'm afraid. Some water, a bit of canned dog food for whatever it's worth, and some socks. What all did you find?" He asked, standing fully.
She tsk'ed, sighing at his list of items. They'd never been low enough on rations to have to eat something like dog food, but they collected it nonetheless. Just in case.
"Not a lot either," she admitted with a sigh. "A few cans of tuna, some spare bullets for various guns, and a new jacket," she listed off the small number of items as she emptied them into the back of the truck, along with the rest of their gear, which mostly consisted of camping gear and spare items, including clothing. Most of the food and water stayed in the front with them, but a few extras got tossed in the back every now and again.
Jackson sighed, nodded once, and turned to get into the driver's side of their vehicle. She turned and covered the back of the truck with the blue tarp, secured it to the end of the truck bed, and got into the passenger side of the truck. She reclined her seat to the best of her ability, crossing her legs and resting her head on her hand as she stared out the window as the truck started. The houses moved by slowly at first as Jackson tried to clear the way without bumping into any of the other vehicles littered about, but slowly picked up speed until they were speeding down the clear road. Sighing, she allowed the blur of the green trees to lull her back into a dreamless sleep.
((A/N: Hello and welcome to my story! If some of you recognize the story from AO3, please know that this is, in fact, MY story. I deleted it off of AO3 because it was old and had a lot of cringy, older writing that I wasn't proud of. I've gotten super interested in TWD again though so I rewrote it. Here is the prologue and chapter one together!
Our favorite boys will come in play in the next chapter. After that, things'll really take off (:
Let me know if you see any mistakes please!))