This fiction takes place before the events of both the television show and the comics during a time in which Rick's group was Dale's group. What happened when Andrea and Daryl met each other?

Amy would be forever grateful to Dale, no doubt about it. She and her sister had been on a college road trip when the world died. The two sisters had been privy to watching whole cities fall when the dead struck. In the beginning, it was just one person, a small group maybe, roaming around, ignoring crosswalks, getting hit by cars, following people around like puppies. Like sick, deadly puppies. The 'disease' started small but the more people were bitten, the more people succumbed. The news had jumped at the chance to blow up the newest 'flu,' hoping fear would go viral.

Turned out there was no need for the news to help mass panic along.

Within weeks, she and Andrea had found themselves alone scavenging from gas stations to abandoned restaurants in search of food, gas, and other provisions. They drove the back roads mostly because the main ones were clogged with abandoned vehicles and Them. In those early days there was no word for the dead. The sisters had named the walking dead 'Them' for a lack of another name. At first, Amy had thought They were truly sick and just needed to get better. When one nearly bit her, she grew smarter. They scared Amy. It was like They had come straight out of a horror movie. Amy didn't watch horror movies. Luckily for her, Amy had Andrea and Andrea was strong enough for the both of them. Amy could always count on her sister.

During a long trek through a particular bout of back roads somewhere near Atlanta, Georgia, Amy had accidently switched from CD to FM radio instead of CD to CD. That accident had probably saved their life because they heard the CDC broadcast on the radio. Amy, spurred by the fact that the CDC was offering a cure, urged Andrea to head to Atlanta. It was safe in Atlanta. They were going to be safe finally. Atlanta had a cure. No one had to di any longer.

It was Dale who'd saved their lives. Strangely, as they neared the city, it didn't look welcoming. In fact, the place looked dead with abandoned vehicles littering the road and a few walkers roaming on either side of the highway. They drove slowly along the uncluttered side of the road and it was luck that they were driving slowly in the first place. That allowed the truck to honk at them a few times and speed past them, turning as it slowed so it blocked their path. Immediately on the defense, Andrea put their car in reverse, but Amy stopped her. And normally Amy was the one gunning for retreat.

Amy was curious. The truck wasn't decked out with anything alarming and the old man who climbed out of the driver's seat didn't even look like he could harm a fly. Still, warily, Andrea took out her silver handgun, and Amy looked at her like she was crazy. What was the old man going to do, smile them to death (and he did have perfect teeth from what she could see)? Finally, the sisters got out of the car, and the man introduced himself as Dale.

He also told them that Atlanta was not safe. Most everyone who went to Atlanta died.

Amy despaired and wondered aloud where she and Andrea were going to go now. Dale had the answer. He didn't ask whether or not they trusted him, but, strangely, Amy felt like she should trust him. His smile was too easy to love, too easy to trust.

"Well, I've got a few people stationed at a quarry a mile or so away from here. It's safe. You could join us." The old man offered. Andrea, of course, had been skeptical, but Amy had pushed her into accepting. And, of course, this had probably saved the two sisters.

As he'd promised, the camp wasn't too far away. They had to wait while he drove further into the city limits and set up a sign detailing how unsafe Atlanta was despite the continued broadcasts. But after he came back, they took their vehicles up a long road and found themselves on a sort of ledge overlooking the quarry. Her first view of the quarry was breathtaking—the water was so stunningly blue that it reminded her of Andrea's icy eyes. The next thing she thought was whether or not the 'camp' they were going to had fishing equipment. It would be good to go out and fish. Pretend nothing happened.

There were people at the camp. A fair amount of people, too. Dale's group consisted of an older black couple, a young black man who called himself T-Dog, a young black woman named Jacqui, an Asian boy named Glenn who seemed to be around her age, and a small family. Carol, Ed, and Sophia Peletier were a dysfunctional family; even Amy could see that much. But she never said anything and neither did Andrea. She quickly became friends with Jacqui and Glenn and even gained enough respect with Carol so that she could watch Sophia when Carol or Ed couldn't.

Over the course of a few weeks, other survivors joined them. Sometimes it was Glenn who found them, once, it was a complete happenstance.

Amy was with Andrea that day. The two girls were in the forests to one side of the camp foraging. They were hoping to find a plentiful batch of berries or something that they could bring back to camp as a surprise. That was when a crossbow bolt whistled past Andrea's head and lodged itself into the eye socket of a walker (as they'd begun to call the dead). Amy, startled, screamed and stepped backward, putting her back up against a tree.

Two men stepped out into view and Andrea gazed at them with such vehemence that Amy thought she would freeze them with her eyes right then and there. Amy, hand on her mouth, felt her body heave and she doubled over as she fought back the need to vomit. On her knees, Amy's moment of terror ceased and she gained control of herself again. But it was Andrea, as always, who had stood strong.

"You could have warned me before shooting at me."

"Not at'choo, bitch." The older of the two men growled out. He was buff with a crew-cut hairdo but he looked, to Amy, like a total hick. "Daryl saved yer fuckin' life, woman. Show respect."

Andrea moved her searing eyes from the older hick to the younger one. For a long moment she stood there, glaring, before repeating: "You could have warned me."

The older one got red in the face and Amy wondered if her sister had overstepped her ground, especially with the idea that these men could aim at a walker and shoot it through the eyes. But the younger man, Daryl his name was, stepped forward, obviously not backing down either, and declared, "Next time I outta let you die."

"Next time?" Andrea mused aloud, flicking her eyes back and forth between the two men. She watched warily as Daryl moved past her and pulled the bolt out of the walker's eye. Amy felt her stomach lurch curiously again.

"Hell, woman, we ain't stupid. Didn't think two women was out here alone." Merle growled out. "You two gotta have others."

Amy was standing now but neither men nor woman paid attention to her. Then again, she wouldn't pay attention to her, either. Not when Andrea and Daryl were having a modified version of a staring contest. Neither of them budged.

"Who says we aren't alone? Who says we can't fend for ourselves?" Andrea retorted.

"You two?" Daryl scoffed. "That one—" he pointed haphazardly at Amy with his crossbow "—was chatterin' up a storm. Prolly alerted every deadie you passed. B'sides, that deadie was followin' you for miles."

"Miles?" Andrea was incredulous, "You followed us for miles?"

"What a dumb bitch." The older one declared.

"Shuddup, Merle." Daryl growled out then resumed his serious stare at Andrea. "So what if we were followin' you for days. You gonna let us join you?"

Andrea gritted her teeth. Merle was smiling. Grinning, really. A huge, weird, killer-like smile. Like he hated Andrea just because she was a woman. It was clear that asking the two sisters if they could join was Daryl's idea. Good thing Merle wasn't the one with the crossbow.

Finally, Andrea smiled. A smile that said 'alright, whatever, but I'll win in the end.' Then she shrugged. "Sure, join us. But we aren't heading back right now. We need food; we aren't going back until we get some."

"Fuckin' women." Merle spat. "They don't think."

Daryl pointed behind them into the woods, "We got squirrels. 'nough for a few."

This was the first time Amy found the chance to speak. When she did, she saw the look of surprise on both the men's faces, as if they'd forgotten she was there. "You mean you'd just give us squirrels you hunted?"

Daryl shrugged as he looked at her. Took her in for the first time. Amy could tell right away that he didn't like her, that he liked her sister more. He should have, of course; Andrea was more like him, offered him more of a challenge. Amy was just a backdrop and she knew it. She certainly retreated from a fight rather than fought for what she believed in. He quickly turned back to Andrea. Merle didn't even look at her.

"So, y'gonna go find yer berries?" Daryl asked with an almost scathing tone.

Andrea grinned. "Well, actually, I believe I found some nightshade somewhere back there I was going to pick up." Merle growled but said nothing. With that last bit, the woman turned and stalked away, not even glancing at the walker Daryl had saved her from. Amy scurried to keep up with her. They were heading back to camp, of course, now that they had two tagalongs. Over her shoulder, Andrea called, "Might want to keep up."

Amy could swear that she heard Daryl tell his older brother, "Bitch got balls, I'll give her that."

Amy grinned. Andrea one, Daryl zero.