A/N: Hey, I'm here with a new story! This story is about an OC, 13 year old Keirstyn Wells, surviving the Zombie Apocalypse with well known characters Morgan and Duane Jones. This first chapter is long and set around season 2 of TWD. The upcoming chapters is when Rick meets Morgan in "Clear", Season 3. Might be a Carl/OC since there aren't much of those. Enough of my blabbering and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Walking Dead.

Long Road

Chapter 1

When I thought of death, I've thought of something...typical. Like a heart attack, a car crash or just dying peacefully in your sleep. I didn't think death would include them ripping your guts out as your last seconds of life would end in excruciating pain.

This type of stuff was supposed to happen in books. Movies, television shows, not in real life. No one saw it coming. No one expected it. No one was prepared.

Yet we had to fight back like we never had done before.

"MOM!" I yelled, trying to find her in the crowd of walkers. It was hard to spot her as I was trying to kill some of them myself. One grabbed my arm though I stabbed it in his lifeless eye with my free hand. The growls were getting closer and closer.

The building we were staying in was going to fall. Dad thought that the fence would protect us from the herd and they wouldn't knock it down. But it didn't take long to realize he was wrong as the walkers looked ravenously at us and were now a few inches away from us.

As I killed another walker, I glanced to my left to see my mother. She locked her amber eyes with mine and for a moment time seemed to slow down. She was my only family member left; dad was bitten and so was my little brother. And I wasn't going to lose anymore people.

Kicking some walkers who were by me, I ran to my mother, hoping that she was all right. But it was too late. I heard her shrill scream as I saw the walkers eating any part of visible flesh they could get.

I hunched over and gagged, sobs escaping from my throat. How many people can you lose in only a matter of minutes? Suddenly, I fell down and felt rotten hands grasping my hair. I struggled although the walker wasn't as heavy as I thought. Turning around, my nose scrunched up in disgust over the smell, as my eyes widened in fear at seeing who the walking corpse was.

He still had the same face although there was a neck wound, clearly showing where he was bitten. His once brilliant blue eyes were now a milky yellow as they looked at me viciously. My brother.

I gasped in horror to see what my brother has become. No. It can't be, I repeated over and over again in my mind. This isn't Kyle. I didn't reach my knife or my handgun which was kept safely in my pocket. I simply froze and stared into my brother's eyes. Paralyzed.

He sunk his teeth into my face.

I woke up, gasping heavily for breath. A sheet of cold sweat was forming on my forehead, and I was freezing although it was considerably warm in the room.

"Are you okay? Kierstyn?" Duane asked, his voice thick with concern. Although the room was too dark to see his face, I know his eyes would be filled with worry also.

"I-I'm fine," I stammered.

"Nightmare again?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

I sighed and numbly nodded. "Yeah, I didn't wake you guys did I?" I squinted through the darkness to see Duane's dad, Morgan, snoring peacefully in his cot. Looking back at Duane, I can see the figure of his head shake.

"No, I had a nightmare myself. You were in it." he said, staring at the wall, which had drawings of the map of King County.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and kept quiet. I didn't need to ask what happened in the end; I was probably dead in his 'dream'.

"I just wish this would go away," he remarked wistfully. "Wish I could see my mom again..."

"Well she isn't comin' back. She's dead, just like how we're going to be." I spat at him. Duane flinched and looked at me, his black eyes hurt. I met his eyes and kept my gaze until I felt a twinge of guilt. Shaking my head, I laid down at the floor and took a deep breath.

"Sorry. It's just that—"

"It's okay," he replied, though it was clear that it was not. "Can't wish for things that are never possible."

I took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. Comforting people was never my thing. I tried for words though my throat seemed stuck. Swallowing hard, I said, "We'll...we'll get through it Duane. You and your dad are very special to me. When I was vulnerable, you guys took me in and treated me like I was part of your family. That's what you guys are: my family. And when we get out of this dark, deep hole, there will be light and happiness. I promise that."

Duane raised an eyebrow, but a small grin was creeping onto his face. "How do I know that you won't break that promise?" he mused.

I smiled myself and my grip on Duane's hand tightened. "Don't worry. I never would've made a promise in the first place if it were to be broken."

...

Day began to break out as sunlight beamed through the windows. After eating a bag of chips for breakfast we decided to head out, hoping to scavenge any more items.

Morgan inspected his traps and spikes to find it clean. No walkers, a miracle I was very grateful for. It was a pain to haul them and burn the bodies. I remember Duane and I had the task of carrying a rather plump corpse, which was far from easy.

"Let's go to the cellar, see if there's anything else," Morgan decided. I don't know what would happen if we didn't have him as our leader. Duane and I were only thirteen year old kids who were lucky enough (yet at the same time cursed) to live in a deteriorated world like this. I'd be dead if it weren't for them. Although I've said it a thousand times, it was the truth.

My thoughts were interrupted by Duane nudging me. "Bet you a bag of chips that I'll kill more walkers than you."

I raised my eyebrows and a smirk was plastered on my face. We never did deal on the bet, but it was fun pretending to. "You only have expertise with a handgun. I know how to shoot and use a knife. So that makes me the winner."

He shook his head dramatically. "Girl, in your dreams."

I burst into a fit of giggles as my friend roared with laughter. It would be like this everyday, laughing at random things until in five seconds...four seconds...three...two...one...

"Would you two please stop laughing?" Morgan asked, but he smiled. He began laughing also.

After we managed to stop, we continued walking, passing through the spikes and cages of animals such as rats and squirrels. When we finally reached our destination, Morgan rubbed his beard and cocked his shotgun. "Duane and Kierstyn, stay here as I go to the cellar. Do not follow me." he ordered.

Duane and I nodded as the dark-skinned man went down to the stairs to the cellar. Everything seemed quiet, but I held my gun just in case. Duane did the same although he was at ease and his shoulders were relaxed, unlike me. I picked off some dried blood from my gray t-shirt and tattered shorts.

"Gosh, I can't wait to take a shower. I must smell so bad." I muttered.

Duane had a crooked smile on his face. "I think you smell nice. I'm the one who needs a shower!"

"No, you smell like flowers and butterflies," I teased. Although this conversation was quite pointless, it was the only way to pass time. For the next ten minutes, we joked around and tried having fun, hoping that Morgan would be back and the tension would go away.

As the minutes rolled by, we eventually got bored and sat on the sidewalk, a few feet away from the cellar. I kicked the debris and gravel with my battered converse as the heat seemed to increase.

"What'd I do for a cold drink..." muttered Duane, licking his cracked lips and I nodded. It seemed that when the world formed into a living hell, the weather got worse. I remembered the freezing winter I spent a few months ago and knew I would be experiencing a scorching summer. I twiddled with my long auburn hair and decided to make a braid, a fishtail one to be exact.

Before I could even begin the braid, I heard the all too familiar sound of snarls and dragging of feet. I looked up to see five walkers get through our system of traps and were heading right through us. All of the were male with tattered clothes and cloudy sunken eyes. Except one who was a dark-skinned female with a bloody white nightgown, missing an arm. I heard Duane gasp as he let out a cry that sounded like a dying animal.

More and more walkers kept on coming and I realized that there was a huge hole between the wires. How in the world?

A gunshot echoed in my ears and I exhaled instantly, not even realizing I was holding my breath. Looking back, I saw Duane, his fingers trembling as they were placed around the trigger. Getting back into reality, I shot several but it hardly made a dent. They were at least ten to fifteen of them and it was shocking that so many were coming to us.

It's happening all over again, my mind said.

I passed by Duane and looked straight at his black eyes, which were filled with fear. Mine were probably the same but I tried to remain calm. What would Morgan do? An idea suddenly popped into my head and I was stupid that I didn't think of it earlier.

"I'll get your dad and we can kill them together. Just try your best for now until I get back."

"But Keir, I can't do it. My m—" I ran off before he can finish. I needed to get to Morgan.

Running to the cellar, I tried opening the rusty doors only to find it jammed shut. After kicking it several times, it budged open and I yelled for Morgan.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked with bottles of water in his arms, completely oblivious to the chaos and mayhem outside.

"Walkers...a lot...Duane.." I replied breathlessly. Dropping all of the items, he cursed under his breath and grabbed his shotgun. We flew up the stairs and saw Duane trying to fight off the walkers. He managed to shoot five or six, but they were still coming.

"Duane!" Shouted the father, "DUANE!" Duane didn't even turn his head to see us. The boy seemed to be trembling as the female walker I saw earlier got closer to him.

"SHOOT it!" I shrieked at Duane. Why wasn't he doing anything?

Morgan suddenly fell to his knees and buried his face in his big meaty hands, sobbing as he shoulders began shaking. "No, no. Jenny, no."

I looked at him in puzzlement. The walker got closer, the biting range, and that's when I knew I had to shoot it. I ran to Duane and aimed my gun at the dead woman's head.

I shot it and the bullet penetrated through her skull. But it was too late as I saw Duane drop his gun as he fell to the floor along with the walker. He writhed in pain and screamed endlessly. Tears welled up in my eyes to piece the puzzle together and notice what had happened in a only a few minutes.

Duane was bit.

A/N 2: Like it? :3 I need reviews if you want me to continue the story. So please review, it only takes one or two minutes! Thanks for reading! :)