World went to shit along time ago.
The disease was small at first, but then it just went haywire. Turned people mad, dead or alive. Some say theres people underground working on cures and weapons to fight this thing and what it creates.
Everything just kept snowballing and snowballing and snowballing till the world was a wreck of what it was. The remaining countries became battlegrounds for resources and supplies.
And even after everything it did to the world, people just kept killing people, the living and the dead.
Some stayed put to fight for what little they had, some thought that keeping on moving was the best solution.
And just like always, there were those who didn't experience anything. Whose luxuries kept them safe.
It wasn't fair.
But like I said.
The world turned to shit a long time ago. Ain't nothing fair when the worlds on its head.
Daryl's pulled his bike to a stop as he heard the loud roar of Merle's engine cut out. The two of them had been riding since they got out of the refugee camp in the last town they passed through. Refugee camp was a joke name. It was a city full of survivors which had turned into a war zone. The brothers hadn't stayed there very long, especially since Merle had been way to keen to join in the fights for territory and food.
Looking around Daryl saw Merle, backing his bike up before wheeling it into the treeline. When Daryl pushed his bike over, Merle was already turning his, before abandoning it to start dragging branches. The branches themselves had been pulled over and covered a narrow path, that most people probably wouldn't have noticed. Sighing, Daryl pushed his bike over to his brother and said tiredly,
"Merle" he said but his brother steadily ignored him "dammit Merle, d' hell you doin'?" Daryl said and after another pause Merle finally deigned to answer
"Some one hid the path see?" Merle grunted not stopping his work.
"yeah, I can see that! What you wastin' time for?" snapped Daryl and he heard Merle growl as he threw another branch away before spinning round to face his younger brother
"Why hide a path if there ain't nothin' worth hidin'? Damn Darylina, I get all the family brains?" Merle sneered using the nickname he new made Daryl want to kill him.
"What if there ain't nothin' there huh? just be wastin' daylight!" Daryl called after his brothers back, as Merle started to push and steer his bike along the winding path. Merle's answer was just to flip him off.
"Dumbass" muttered Daryl before he followed after Merle, just like he always had done and he knew, probably always would.
The path wound through the woods for a good quarter of a mile before they came out onto a huge open field, that slopped upwards.
"Well, looky here!" Merle grinned lopsidedly pointing up to the top of the hill. In the brightness of the midday sun, the dark silhouette of an old house was just visible, it's dark roof poking up just above the treeline behind it.
"Now was I right or was I right huh?" gloated Merle, wiping a hand over his face before starting to push his bike once again, his boots slipping slightly as the field sloped upwards.
"Smug bastard." grimaced Daryl before saying to his brothers retreating back
"Don't mean there's anything there!"
It seemed to take a while to reach the low fence around the house.
The two left their bikes behind a rickety shed, out of sight. Merle pulled out his gun and checked it was fully loaded, whilst Daryl reluctantly clipped a bolt into place on his crossbow. he knew gun were easier to transport and carry but he didn't give a shit, even when they were kids Daryl had always favoured bolts over bullets. Merle didn't give a shit. He'd rip your throat out with his teeth just as long as it killed you.
"Don't look like nobodies home" muttered Daryl, looking at the dark house.
"Yeah well, ain't gonna take no damn chances are we?" grunted Merle "You ready Darylina?"
"Shut up." Daryl muttered before jogging up the steps and using the tip of a spare bolt to shiv open the lock.
Slowly the door creaked open and the brothers Dixon entered the house.
It was dark. All the lights were off and the curtains closed. It was by no means a small house, but the cluttered furniture and darkness made it feel like a box. Merle headed off down one hallway that had at least two doors plus the backdoor on it, gun drawn as alert as Daryl had ever seen him. Daryl headed off through the living room in the direction of the stairs. He felt himself internally wince as three of them creaked under his weight as he travelled up them to the next floor.
There were four doors on the upper level. Slowly, carefully, Daryl used the end of his crossbow to nudge the closest one open. Since no one leapt out at him with an axe or anything, he opened the door fully and looked inside. On a whim he flipped the light switch just to see if it worked, and had to blink in the sudden light as the bulb sputtered to life. The room was small, with a small bed in the middle, covered in white bedding with little blue flowers on. There was a small dresser and chair and the light walls were practically bare except for a small framed photograph on the far wall opposite Daryl. He couldn't see what was on it from where he was so he took one step into the room that was clearly for a child.
And then he froze.
Click.
Daryl new that sound. Would know it anywhere.
The cool metal pressing against his neck was just confirmation that it was a gun being cocked and readied.
"Don't move."
Dun Dun duuuuhhhh
Who's it gonna beeeeee?
Never written about zombies before sorry if its shitty.
Geronimo xx