One foot in front of the other. That's how you learn to walk. That's how you walk when everything around you is crumbling into pieces … one foot in front of the other. Stumbling, leaning, falling, tripping … must go on no matter what. Head banging, ears ringing, throat burning, what's happening around me? Where is everyone? Where am I? Who am I?
She stepped forward into the sun, feeling the warmth on her face. She looked around, seeing signs of a prison in the distance. She staggered from the woods, one foot in front of the other. She kept ambling along, wishing someone would find her and kill her. No words could express the pain she was in, no words could express what she had been through.
"Are you okay?" a voice comes to her ears. She looks over to see a group of little girls standing by the fence. "You okay lady?" "Hush, she might be a walker." "She's not a walker, look at her." "We'd better get someone to get her before the walkers do."
"Hey Carl, come here a minute!" one of the girls calls out.
She stops and stares at them as a teenage boy comes running over. He has a gun in his hand. She lays her hand on the fence as a tear falls down her cheek.
"Kill me."
"Why?"
"I can't live like this, please kill me."
"We don't kill just to be killing," one of the smaller girls spouts.
A smile creeps to her lips. "Good, your parents taught you well."
"Our parents are dead," the youngest cries.
"Easy Nettie," one says. "Carl, what should we do?"
The teenage boy walks to a part of the fence; holstering his gun, he begins pulling on the fence. "Come on inside."
She smiles and gets down her knees; she crawls through the tiny entrance then stands up, but sways and lands against the fence. "Thank you."
"How long has it been since you ate?" the teenager named Carl asks.
"Good question, I don't remember." She wipes her mouth as spittle leaks out. "Forgive me, I don't feel so good."
"Do you have the flu that causes your eyes to bleed?" a girl asks.
"No baby, I already had that." She leans into the fence. "I think I am going to stay here."
"DAD! DARYL!" Carl yells.
She slides down the fence as she sees two men running towards them with weapons. A smile creeps to her face as she blacks out.
"She was where when you found her?" a female voice asks over her.
"She was outside the fence," a girl named Lizzie says. "She came walking up from the forest."
"We thought she was a walker," a girl named Mika says.
"She looks like one," a man speaks. Sexy voice, who are you?
"She must have been out by herself for months," another man speaks.
"All right everyone, back up and let her rest."
"Is she going to be all right, Hershel?" another man speaks. Damn, another sexy voice. Did I die and go to heaven or something?
"I'm not sure Rick, she needs food and water. There's no guarantee that will help her in this type of deteriorated condition. She might make it, she might not," an older man speaks. Rick … damn, sexy voice has a sexy name. Who's your friend? Is that Daryl?
"Easy fellahs," she breathes. "I'm tired not dying."
"Well she speaks," Hershel smiles. "My name is Hershel."
"Annie … Annie Blake … I work for FEMA."
"You mean worked," the gruff voice speaks.
"No work as in presently works for," she replies. "Got a name redneck?"
"Yea its Daryl," he huffs. Damn, and let me guess that blue eyes is Rick. I have literally died and gone to heaven.
"Nice to meet you. I was separated from my team somewhere between here and Decatur. I'm not from Georgia originally, I'm from North Carolina."
"FEMA doesn't exist," the one named Rick speaks finally. "We saw the CDC blow up, we were almost caught up in it."
"Ah, so that's what happened to Jenner," she chuckles. "Sonofabitch, I knew he would never survive this damn bug." Grabbing hold of the bed, she pulls herself upright and leans against the wall. "Sorry to tell you this, but yes there is still a government and there still is FEMA."
"Then where are they?" Daryl growls.
"We just now got the man power to come back into Georgia. You have to understand, the undead outnumber the living 5000 to 1 in this damn state. It's the same in Alabama, Florida, Mississippi and Louisiana. The South has gone the way of the dead. Hot humid weather incubates this damn thing and makes it move faster through the body."
"So, it's a virus," a gentleman speaks up.
"And you are?"
"Doctor Bob Stookey, Army Medical," he replies.
"Nice to meet you, and yes it is a virus … a virus that was gift wrapped in a dirty bomb and dropped into our hot little laps. Three bombs were dropped … one over Tennessee, one over California and the third hit between Kansas and Colorado. Nasty ass virus, been trying to find a way to kill it since all this started. Got caught up with the hemorrhagic flu, but survived that. Finally got a clean sample of it, now I can kill the flu and maybe I can start working on the zombie virus."
"Who gave us such a wonderful gift?" another man asks.
"Not sure; England got hit, so did Russia … China went from a million screaming Chinese to a million moaning walkers, Japan got hit … we don't know, we just know that the usual players are all the same way we are and nobody is playing nice anymore." She inhales as pain rips across her features. "Would one of you mind helping me relocate some broke ribs?"
"Allow me," Hershel smiles and holds his hands out. "Can you stand?"
She rises and drops her coat; she rips through Velcro on a vest and drops it; she pulls her shirt off then her tank top. Hershel reaches out gingerly as touches several large bruises. "They are cracked, and it looks like you might have a puncture in your right lung."
"My lung hasn't deflated yet," she groans as Stookey hands Hershel a roll of adhesive wrap.
"Let's get you wrapped and back in your vest," Stookey tells her. "That vest kept you stabilized."
"Thought so," she winces. "I feel like I am gonna hurl."
"Easy," Stookey speaks, grabbing her arm. "Rick, help me with her."
"Let me finish wrapping you then you can lay down," Hershel tells her as he continues wrapping her ribs. "This is going to help."
"Good," she winces as Rick steadies her on the other side. She turns her head to stare at him. "What were you before this? Law enforcement, military?"
"Who me?" Rick asks. "Deputy Sheriff, why?"
"It shows on you," she smiles, "that and I know a couple of cops with Colt Pythons strapped to their hips."
A grin crosses his face as Hershel finishes wrapping her. He and Stookey lower her back down to the bunk as she leans forward and groans. Lifting her head, she falls over onto the bunk and smiles. Her eyes loll around before she succumbs to sleep. She feels a blanket cover her body and the conversation heads for what might be the door.
All right, you need to calm down … you need to rest and regain your strength. You know the extraction point is not far from here, you just need to relax and you will make it. If you don't, then you can kill Lloyd when you get back to North Carolina. These people, they have survived all this time without any help from the outside. Maybe they have the right idea … and maybe they are deranged cannibals or something. I doubt that cannibals would let kids have guns … wait, is that a baby crying?
Her eyes drag open as she rises. She grabs her tank top then vest and pulls them on as she climbs from the bed and makes her way out the door.
"She just started crying and I can't make her stop," a young blonde speaks, holding a fussy baby.
"She's got a fever," Hershel responds. "She's sick."
"Could she have the flu?" Rick asks.
"Nope, she's not sick." Patting her vest down, she pulls something out as she staggers over. Unwrapping a cookie, she hands it to the baby. "Try this." The baby snatches the cookie and rams it into her mouth. "She's not sick, she's teething. Some babies develop a fever and become extremely irritable when they start teething. Just give her cookies or a sanitized piece of leather and she'll be fine."
"How did you know?" the girl asks.
"My son did that when he was teething, I know the sound," she smiles then grimaces. "I miss him."
"Where is he?"
"With a bullet in his head in the middle of Charlotte, NC," she grimaces as she slowly sits down. "He turned right after the bombs fell."
"I am so sorry," the girl smiles. "I'm Beth, this is Judith."
"You have a gorgeous daughter."
"She's not mine."
"Yea right, then why does she look like you?"
"She does? She's Rick's daughter."
"Like I said, lucky lady." Dropping her head onto the table, she groans aloud. "I need a valium and a Bud, can anyone help a girl out? Please."
Rick chuckles softly as he runs a hand over her shoulders. "Hershel has some mean tranquilizers."
"Tranqs do nothing for me, I eat them like candy."
"Sounds like you," the larger man chuckles.
"And you are, we haven't had a chance to meet … Annie Blake," she extends her hand to him.
"Tyreese," he smiles and shakes it.
She lifts her head to see Stookey walking in. He is carrying a small bag; he walks over and sits beside her. He pushes the bag open, pulls out a pill bottle and shakes one into his hand. Reaching into the bag, he shuffles things around a pulls out a can of Coors Light. "25mgs and a Coors, that's what we have to offer. Take it or leave it."
Taking the beer, she cracks it open and drains half the can, pops the valium and drains the rest of the can. Wiping her mouth, she smiles and hands the empty can to him. "Thank you, now I am going to take my own advice and go back to bed." She turns. "Mind if I have another beer?"
"Yes because I only have two more," Stookey smarts off.
"Just thought I would ask," she smiles as she heads out the door.
Walking back into her cell, she drops to the bed. Reaching into another pocket, she pulls a small device out and unwinds the headphones. Flipping the iPod to on, she slides the headphones in and leans her head back onto the pillow as music fills her ears.
I could take Rick back with me, him and the baby and Carl too, and we could be happy. That girl, Beth, I think she's in love with Rick and he doesn't realize it. Lucky lady, she gets to carry his kid around in her arms all day long. There's no way that baby is not hers, either that or she was related to the mom somehow. Damn, lucky ass bitch.
The sounds of gunfire jolt her awake as she jumps to her feet. Reaching into her coat, she pulls out a clip as she reaches down into her pockets and pulls out two small handguns. She pokes her out the cell door and takes off running. She runs past crying children and cowering adults; shaking her head, she heads out an open door and runs down to where everyone is standing at the gate.
"Come on Rick, all I want to do is talk!" a man barks from the front of a truck.
"Get off our property!" Rick snaps. "You have Woodbury, this is our home!"
"Philip wait!" a blonde headed woman yells. "Rick, it's me Andrea … please let me come up there."
"Come alone Andrea," Rick snaps.
"I don't think so," Philip snarls and raises a gun. Lining the end of her gun with the fence, she pulls the trigger and blows the gun from his hand. His gaze floats to the top line as people look at her. "Your people are getting better!"
Walking over to the fence, she yanks the it open and starts walking down the hill. "Yea, and your pasty ass came come off the front of that damn truck too, Philip! What's wrong, cat got your tongue?"
"Do you know who I am!" he thunders.
"The Governor of Woodbury aka Philip Blake aka Brian Blake because you stole Philip's identity when he was killed," she snaps. She stops midway and stands there. A gust of air whips around her and snaps the holder on her hair. Long flowing red locks dance around her head. "Miss me, big brother?"
"Annie," he speaks, "is that really you?" She raises both guns and fires three shots, two men go down and one bursts the windshield behind him. He turns and looks then turns back on her. "Annie, get over here this instance!"
Before she can open her mouth, the sound of a helicopter interrupts their conversation. Everyone looks up as a large black chopper appears, wind whipping around the blades. A rope ladder is dropped down in front of Annie as she smiles. She steps on the bottom wrung and wraps her arm around the ladder.
"Sorry boys, here's my ride," she giggles as it begins to lift her off the ground. "I told you, there was a government and there was FEMA. Georgia may be a lost cause, but it doesn't mean that I won't be back to get all of you."
"Where are you going!" Rick yells after her.
"Back to North Carolina to eradicate some bugs!" she laughs as the chopper flies off with her floating below it in the wind.