WELL HERE WE ARE PEOPLE… THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC SO BARE WITH ME, BUT I DON'T FORSEE IT AS BEING A SHITSTORM. PARDON MY LANGUAGE, BUT YOU'RE THE ONES READING A WALKING DEAD FANFIC YOU GOTTA EXPECT SOME LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE. THIS STORY STARTS IN THE 2ND EPISODE OF SEASON 1 WITH OUR HEROIN HARPER MURPHY, GETTING STUCK IN ATLANTA ON A SUPPLY RUN BY SOME ASSHOLES THAT MAY SEEM FAMILIAR TO YOU ALL. SO CUTTING THIS SHORT, ENJOY AND I WILL LET YOU GET TO THE STORY.
LOVE,
J
SEASON 1 EPISODE 2: GUTS
CHAPTER 1: The Calm Before the Storm
--There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.
~Willa Cather
"THUD!" The sound of a mannequin in the abandoned apartment store falling over gave away the walking corpse's surprise attack on Harper as she entered the building. With one swift swing of her Louisville slugger the corpse fell to the tiled ground of the store. Harper checked its body seeing if anything it had would come in handy. She could luck out and find lighter, matches, and if the corpse was one of those tough guys maybe even a pocket knife on its lifeless body. But to her avail no luck. His pockets were empty but the boots on his feet looked promising as Harper stared at her blood stained converse with a large rip on the side.
Harper looked around the store seeing no signs of life or the walking dead. She sat down next to the decaying corpse took off her worn out converse and massaged her calloused feet and began unlacing the leather boots to remove them. Once off the dead man's feet Harper smelled the stench off the boots hesitant to put them on. She pulled her pack off her back and looked through not finding any extra socks, so she began to check around the store.
Harper was desperate enough to where a pair of dead man's work boots but wasn't about to wear them without having a few layers of protection between her aching feet and the stench and gore coming from the boots. Walking around the store with her slugger at hand she began too notice women's clothes. She looked up to the ceiling. "Thank the lord! I might actually get to wear proper women's clothes this week!"
Since the outbreak had started she had been living off the clothes she had on at the time of her retreat and a bag large men's flannel shirts and jeans that she had found in the cab of a semi truck on the road. She began to strip off the baggy trucker clothing while eyeing a rack of women's jeans and tank tops. She smiled at this small luxury she just received.
After putting on a black loose tank top and dark jeans she found other racks of clothes. She rid her pack of the immensely large trucker clothing and replaced it with comfortable more feminine clothing. Feeling better about herself and free of the sweaty gore covered men's flannel, she continued her search for socks. Going past the jewelry counter in the middle of the store she found the men's section. Looking for thicker socks instead of the dainty and colorful women socks at the other end of the store she just came from. She found a bin of grey, black, and white socks for men and took a few pairs of the white not wanting the heat from Atlanta's hot rays that the black and grey socks would attract.
She again took her spot sitting next to the corpse and put on a pair of the socks she found. She put on the reeking boots lacing them tightly tucking in the laces in the sides of the boots so they wouldn't snag on anything if she had to run and trip her. She got up feeling satisfied but at the same time not. Her skin felt too bare with only a tank top on. That could be a hazard if lustful decayed hands decided the would try and make a dinner out of her arm. She went back to the women's side of the store to find a jacket of some sort. She found a dark brown comfortable leather one. Although she assumed it wasn't real leather and the jacket was probably just made for looks not undead attacks, but it was better than the no protection that the tank top would provide.
Putting it on Harper got an uneasy feeling of eyes watching her and realized she had left her pack, faithful slugger, and her daddy's 45. ,that she only used on close encounters not wanting to draw sound, by the body of the bloody corpse where she first came in. She quickly turned around to go to them, but her natural instincts and spidey sense's, were as usual correct, as she stared down the barrel of a rifle held by a scruffy redneck in an old biker vest.
"Don't move honey bunches!" The man said with a satisfied look on his face. Harper looked into his cold blue eyes and knew he was not one to be messed with. All of a sudden a small group of others popped in through a door through the back of the shop. "Dixon! What the hell man!" A Hispanic man with curly hair directed at the hot headed redneck that was glaring at Harper. "Found us a stray!" The redneck turned around to the Hispanic man still having the rifle pointed on Harper. Harper saw this as her chance. She quickly snatched the rifle away from the man taking him in surprise and aiming it now at his head.
"Whoa whoa, just stop we don't want any trouble!" The Hispanic man raised his hands to Harper as she rested the tip of the rifle to the redneck's forehead. The small group that followed the Hispanic man in consisted of a short haired black woman, a big sized black man, a young Asian guy, and a blonde haired woman that slowly rested her revolver on the dirty tiled floor of the store. They all put their hands up terrified except for the man she was pointing the rifle at. He had a small smirk on his face. "Looks like this little girl here's got sum' brass balls… I'd say!"
"Shut up Dixon!" The blonde woman called out. "Look just put the gun down and we can all forget about this and be on our way." The Hispanic man reasoned. "Who are you people?!" Harper asked past the guy they kept calling Dixon. "Look we don't want any trouble." The Asian guy spoke up. "I asked a question! Answer!" Harper shouted back making him jump a little. The black woman rubbed his back. "It's ok Glenn honey…" She said reassuring the scared Asian. "We have a camp outside Atlanta, we're only making a supply run, and we just want to make it back safe to our people please." The Hispanic man spoke up again begging her. "Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot your friend here and the rest of you! Right now!" Harper asked shouting knowing in her mind in reality that trigger would probably not get pulled. At least she hoped.
The redneck began to laugh. "Go on hun! Let's see how big those brass balls are!" The group panicked not knowing what to think. "Merle man! Come on!" The Hispanic man called out to the man with the rifle to his head. "Look don't listen to him!" The blonde woman spoke to Harper. "You want a reason not to kill us? Here's one… we have people, family and they're alive waiting for us. That should be good enough."
Harper not totally believing her still pressed the barrel to the man's head. The blonde woman sensed it in Harper's icy light blue eyes. "Look I have a little sister, Dixon here has a little brother." The woman directed towards the man Harper had her aim on. Than she looked to the frightened Hispanic man. "And Morales he has a two small children Eliza and Louis and a wife Miranda. And they're alive waiting for us to bring back supplies to them." The words children echoed through Harper's mind as she lowered the rifle handing it back to Merle Dixon.
"Kids?" She asked faintly to them as Morales nodded his head in relief as the rifle returned to Merle. "My turn!" Merle responded aiming the rifle at her head. "Who the hell are you?!" Merle shouted spitting a bit in her face. "I am Harper Murphy, I have no family. Alive for that matter. You're lucky Dixon and I know you're not gonna pull that trigger so you might as well get that rifle outta my face." She told him with a bit of anger flushing through her eyes at him. "Says who?" Merle asked.
"Says the undead legion walking the streets of Atlanta. You wanna pull the trigger, ring their dinner bell, be my guess… I'll have the quick way out and you and your friends here can become a happy meal. So if you don't excuse me." Harper said moving past him shoving the barrel of the rifle to his chest everyone knowing she was right. She walked to the dead body where she left her stuff and packed it all up. Once she was situated she looked at the diverse group of people. "So you gonna tell me the rest of y'all's names?" She got out before she heard a gun shot echo through her mind and the streets of Atlanta, Georgia.
TO BE CONTINUED:
NEXT CHAPTER OFFICER FRIENDLY COMES TO TOWN