It was Amy who fell first. Or Ed, he couldn't really tell. Knowing the abusive bastard, if he had gone down first, he probably went quiet, just in the slim hopes that the group would be left unaware enough that the Walkers could sneak up on them and kill a couple of 'em before they could act. Indeed, it had taken a while for Shane to notice them. It wasn't until Amy screamed, Hania howled, and Sarah fell that he truly noticed the sheer amount of the undead that had surrounded the camp.
After that, it was pure chaos.
Screams and gunshots and the groan of the geeks all blurred together, hitting his eardrums like a roar of thunder, a clash of waves against sharp, jutting rocks in an endless sea of death. He was vaguely aware of his own movements - his instinct to cover for Lori and Carl, brows furrowed as he aimed his Beretta at the approaching geeks. Noise was no longer an issue - there was no stealth killing, unless someone had managed to get their hands on a picaxe and a machete and something with similar force that could beat in the dead's brains. Either way, it didn't really matter; they couldn't possibly attract more Walkers than they already had, right?
Wrong.
More poured into the clearing, growling and snapping and clawing at the survivors, blank eyes wild with hunger and lust for flesh. Shane growled back, shooting them down until he runs out of shells. While he reloads, Lori covers him best she can. But he was tired; his hands fumble with the bullets, and they fall from his fingers and into the dirt, and they're kicked around and hidden in the earth by trampling feet. Lori's little pistol eventually can't do much, and she's already running low on ammo. One of the undead are a little too close to Carl for comfort, and Shane watched as it snapped at the boy, reaching out to grab him. Its drawn, gaunt face looks almost victorious as it snagged boy's shirt, dragging him close enough to take hold of his bicep and reaching down to take a good chunk outta him.
Shane wasn't sure what he was thinking, just that he had to keep Carl safe, make sure he gets out of this okay. So the boy barely has time for a strangled scream of, "Mom!" before Shane is tackling the geek, pressing the corpse into the dirt and ignoring the outcries behind him. Its body is heavier than he thought it'd be, and it's stronger than he thought, so it easily gets the upper hand. It claws at him, rotted teeth snapping at Shane's face. It pushes hard now, so close to its meal that it presses close as it can, saliva dripping from its hanging jaw. This close, Shane can make out the long lashes that shade its milky eyes, notes the dark hair that was probably once smooth and long, but now barely hung onto the rotting scalp. Can see the lice crawling in its skull, can separate each washed-out freckle on its face.
Lori's screaming of his name brings the former cop out of his reverie, and Shane grunts with the effort of keeping the Walker from taking a chunk of flesh from his skin. He shot Lori a hard glare as she makes to move toward him, his eyes hard as they flickered to Carl and back. "Get out of here!" he ordered between labored breaths, watching the woman falter slightly before biting her lip. She grabbed Carl's arm, and then they're gone, lost in the panicked crowd of geeks and humans. He knew he wasn't going to live - there was no way in hell. The Walker, who was now identifiable as what used to be a young woman, pressed in close, its hot, stinking breath tangible against his skin. Shane closes his eyes, and can only hope for a quick death. His thoughts flash to his family, who he left behind in favor of Lori and Carl. He thinks of the outbreak, how he made sure to take care of Rick's family, how hard he tried to save them all... But Rick was his family, his companion-in-arms. Shane had barely reunited with his 'brother', and he was already going to die on him. Shane swallowed, thinking of how it used to be, before this, before-
Suddenly, its blood is covering his face, entering his lips, squirting into his eyes, his nostrils, his hair. The Walker's weight increases, but it has stopped snapping at him, merely dead weight resting atop him. Shane doesn't stop for a minute as he heaves the body off of him and stumbles to his feet. Rick is standing there, breathing heavily and carrying a Model 700 police rifle in one hand and a Mosberg 590 pump-action riot shotgun in the other. He doesn't speak, instead opting to throw Shane the shotgun and give him a nod. Shane nods back, because even though he's still pissed off about the former Sheriff leaving the group on some stupid suicide mission with some of his best men, there's no time for that. Shane searches the mob of geeks for two certain figures, and feels relief wash through him as he sees Lori by the RV with Carl, holding off as many Walkers as she could.
Shane takes a deep breath, turns to the horde, aims the gun…
And fires.
"Holy shit," is the first thing that's said in the aftermath. Bodies litter the floor, the stench increased tenfold under the blazing heat of the sun. No one is sure who had spoken, but it doesn't matter, because that's all that they're thinking anyway. They'd spent most of the night killing the undead, and even though they had time to sleep, none of them did.
Daryl was busying himself by being sure all the fuckers were dead, but he watched on the remainder of the group anyway. It was almost poetic justice - they left his brother, and not a day after, they're attacked. The hunter wasn't usually into that shit, but like the phrase went, karma was a bitch. Didn't mean Daryl was 'specially happy about their losses - Amy'd been alright by him, and he didn't really know the rest too well to judge(except fer Ed. Th'bastard could go straight on ta hell for all he cared). Still, the whole tip-toin' around the proverbial elephant in the room thing was annoyin' the fuck outta him. Amy had to be dealt with, and instead of doing' the sensible thing and draggin' Andrea away from her sister's dead body until they could get Amy in the noggin, or shoot the younger girl from where they stood, they had people like Rick-A-Grade-Asshole-Grimes and Mister Dale-Fuckin'-Moral-Clockwork-Horvath tryin' to be gentlemanly-like and let her 'grieve' and whatever.
It was the motherfuckin' apocalypse. There's no time for geniality no more. And they hadn't given him that luxury when they'd left Merle on the roof, but now the groups' sympathy and morality decided to rear their ugly heads.
Still, since the blonde's watchin' her dead sister like a hawk, Daryl kept to his own business best he could, dragging the finally dead Walkers to the fire pit, and their people to be buried. It would've been ten times more simple to jus' burn them all, but because the goddamned chink had gotten all emotional about it, they'd separated them anyway.
The redneck sighed as he heaved one last Walker into the pit, wiping his hands on his dirtied, sleeveless T-shirt, stepping back to watch the flames engulf the dead figure. Daryl didn't want to be the devil's advocate, but the camp was full with helpless idiots who figured that death would be better than putting a bullet in a dead girl's brain. He growled to himself, glowering and watching the camp wearily. Shane and Rick were conversing in low voices, Lori brushing back her kid's hair soothingly as she listened in. Carol sat by her dead husband's body, Sophia by her as the mother and daughter linked to each other in a one-armed hug. Dale sat on top of the RV, as always, eyes sharp for any more Walkers. Jim helped Jacqui with the bodies, pushing and pulling them two the two different areas. Morales had paused in his work, wiping sweat from his forehead as he approached his wife. She provided him with a water bottle with only about an inch of water left in it. He drunk it greedily, then handed it back. The Mexican took her hand as he gave the plastic bottle back, offering her a wary smile that she returned half-heartedly. Then the man went back to work, throwing the undead-but-now-dead bodies into the fire.
Glenn was busy digging holes, panting underneath the glaring sun. He swiped his tongue over his upper lip, then paused, seeming to realize Daryl's eyes were on him. The young Korean looked up at the older man, and for a minute, they had a staring contest.
For a minute, Daryl saw a sort of pained look etched onto the young man's face.
For a minute, the redneck thought he saw panic flare in the boy's eyes.
But then the Asian turned, returning to his work studiously,digging deep holes in the ground. Daryl narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, giving a derisive snort as he turned away from the former pizza delivery boy and started on the bodies again.
It's not until there's a loud shout that the hunter turns back, eyebrow raised. It's Jacqui, her eyes wide with horror as she turns from a startled Glenn to the group. He looks like he tried to hush her, but she doesn't listen, raising her voice further so as to alert the camp. Some of the group members take their guns up, surrounding the kid and woman in a slightly intimidating circle. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and joined in, fingers tight on the trigger as he squeezes in between Jacqui and Carol. Then it's just Glenn standing in the middle, panicking and wide-eyed and looking far more scared than the redneck had ever seen him. Daryl couldn't say he blamed the guy; even he couldn't really believe what Jacqui had said. But, damn. It was there, and the woman's voice still echoed in their minds as they stared at the Korean in front of them.
"Glenn's bitten! He's bit!"
AN: Heya, guys! I'm StuckInMyOwnFiction, but you can just call me Fic :3
So, this is my first fanfiction ever, and I'm a bit nervous as to how it turned out. It doesn't exactly help that I'm just finishing off it at midnight with no beta reader or previous experience with this stuff. The whole thing's prolly riddled with mistakes, so I apologize if it's difficult to read^^
So, basically, this is an AU where Glenn's bit instead of Jim, and then shit happens.
It's gen for now, so no pairings for the first couple'a chapters.
Maybe later on if I'm feeling generous :3
Disclaimer: I no own. ;_;
