A/N: This fic might end up being slightly altered (a tad AU I suppose could be the word?) but nothing too extreme. The infected still exist, but Doyle and Scarlet aren't dead etc. Let's just say they ended up… somewhere else.

This is what happens when I get bored and friends encourage me to write things.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas and characters (unfortunately).

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The dead silence was foreboding. Not a single cry from a crow could be heard but then again, there were no crows. Crows had long since stopped scavenging from the corpses. Doyle motioned for the rest of the group to stay close as Scarlet leaned heavily upon his side before continuing to hobble forward. Tension was high amongst the four, they were in a completely different place and they weren't exactly sure as to how they had arrived. However, the group welcomed the sight and feel of the lush green grass and the shade provided by the numerous large trees.

A sudden crunching of leaves and the sound of rapid -if not panicked- footsteps snapped their minds back to the present. With a practiced ease, Doyle brought his rifle up to his shoulder and glanced down the sights of the M4 before ushering the rest of the group to continue in the direction that they were headed. A gentle sweep of the thumb and the safety was off.

An individual clothed in ill fitting army fatigues and worn balaclava came sprinting from between the trees, the black work boots destroying any underbrush that was in its path. A rather large cloth sack was securely strapped to the back of the runner with what looked like a motley array of shoe laces. Cradled in the person's gloved hands was an M16 and Doyle had no doubts that the weapon was live. Still, he did not lower his own firearm but instead he was waiting for the person to get close so he could hit with some accuracy. Of course, that was before he heard the muffled yelling.

"Move! Move! Move!"

Despite the voice being muffled, nothing could obscure the obvious tone of urgency. As the human came within meters, Doyle barely saw its eyes narrow in what he presumed to be frustration. Only a few seconds later and the person came to an abrupt halt about 3 feet in front of Doyle. "You think I'm fuckn' around army boy? Get your ass in overdrive, they're not far behind. Follow me." The voice was still incredibly muffled but because of the close proximity, that didn't really matter any more.

Doyle gave a curt nod, making the split second decision to trust this person. He motioned to the kids and Scarlet, urging them on ahead to chase after the person who obviously had no qualms with leaving people behind.

They all moved at a sprint with the exception of Scarlet who kind of just hobbled as fast as she could. It wasn't more than 200 yards before a rather large brick building came in to view. If he had to guess, Doyle would say it was probably at least 3 floors and by the time they had reached the door by which the person stood, Scarlet was relying heavily on Doyle to help her move. A slight jingle of keys could be heard and there was a slight glint of metal before the door was yanked open. "Go all the way to the third floor and wait for me at the door. Get her," a finger was pointed at Scarlet, "up first. We don't want her to fall behind." Their footsteps were loud as the four scrambled up the stairs but the dull click of the first door locking shut was even louder.

Another glint of metal and a fast twist of the wrist opened the heavy metal door to the 3rd floor and the person all but shoved them in to the hallway, yanking the door closed behind them and listening for the telltale locking noise. A loud sigh of relief came from the person as the dull click was heard, signaling that the firearms' safety could be switched on. "Safety on kiddos. This floor is clear and quite frankly, I don't want any holes in the walls." The individual hardly waited for Doyle to comply before once more ushering them down the hallway lined with doors, only to stop about 3 doors down from the stairwell. A different key was pulled out and shoved in to the various keyholes before the door was able to be pushed open. Tammy and Andy got the hint and followed the person in to a rather small room, Scarlet and Doyle trailing behind the two and shutting the wooden door after they entered.

The room was rather dark with the curtains pulled shut and two desks shoved up against the window to further block any possible entry. Small mattresses covered in a random mix of blankets were shoved under the lifted bed frames, providing adequate sleeping space for multiple people. One closet door was slightly ajar and inside, a ridiculous amount of food could be seen. The other closet held a small assortment of firearms and their appropriate ammunition as well as various supplies.

They watched, unsure of what to do, as the person gingerly tucked its weapon away in the closet and began untying the shoe laces that bound the cloth sack to its back. Tammy was the first to speak; a slight tremor was audible in her voice. "W-who are you?"

The cloth sack fell to the ground with a dull thump as the person turned to face the four survivors. With some rather ungraceful movements and a harsh tug, the person pulled the black balaclava from its face to reveal a very weary looking young woman whose blonde hair was plastered to her face and neck with sweat.

"A survivor, like you."

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A/N: Kind of a short chapter and I am sure there's a good amount of flaws, typos and general inconsistencies. But nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoyed it and please, please, please leave feedback in the comments. I would greatly appreciate it.