Authors Note: This is my first story for the Walking Dead, I hope you enjoy it. It features my OC, and I know it's a little rushed, so please bare with me. I would appreciate it if you would review it for me, so I know what to fix and everything. I'll work on Abigail's character information to upload!
I grew up with Carl; he was always my best friend. He promised me we would always be together on my last birthday. I believed him. Even a month into the apocalypse I still believed him. I would always believe everything he said; just like I would always trust him. I practically trust him with my life as it is.
The day the outbreak started, Carl and his mom Lori were gonna go to the hospital to see Rick, Carl's dad. He got shot a couple times and went into a coma. They were planning to transport him to the hospital in Atlanta cause of this weird flu going around. I was gonna go with them to see him 'cause Rick was like a dad to me, or at least the closest thing I had to one since my old man bailed on my mom when she told him she was pregnant.
Me and Lori were waiting for Carl to finish getting ready when Shane practically busted the door down, hollerin' that Lori and Carl had to hurt and pack, that there wasn't much time before the sick were gonna be here; that we still had to go to my house to get my stuff and my mom. Lori tried to calm him down so he could explain what was goin' on, but he kept on shoutin' orders 'til Lori had no choice but to pack their things.
As Lori ventured to Carl's room to tell him to pack and to get her things, Shane told me to follow him to the kitchen. He had a duffel bag that I hadn't noticed before, shoving all the canned foods and some bottled water into it, telling me to check all the cabinets to make sure we got all we could get here. Opening and closing the cabinets to make sure they were empty, my mind wandered to all the possibilities about why the usually composed Shane was so panicked now. I figured it had to do with that weird flu that was goin' around.
When we did as much packin' up of the house we could, Shane quickly ushered us outside to his jeep. It was real quiet outside, but there must have been something goin' on since some houses had their doors wide open, skid marks decorated parts of the streets, and papers and random objects were strewn around the streets. We all climbed into the jeep quickly, Shane stepping on the gas and practically flyin' down the streets, which were obvious of the chaos that was going on-people were eating each other, screaming for help. I was startin' to feel worried, and Carl must've noticed too, 'cause he grabbed hold of my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. To assure him I was gonna be fine, I sent him a smile, though it felt forced. He returned it with a smile of his own.
As Shane drove like a mad man down the roads to get to my house, he explained what was happening as best he could. He had to swerve to miss the abandoned cars around the street. I tightened my hold on Carl's hand, tryin' to ignore the fear that was blossoming in my stomach. It took all my will power not to cry, my eyes tearing up at the bloody messes around the once humble and small town.
Lori was yellin' at Shane that we had to go get Rick, but Shane dodged the command as we pulled up to my house. There was something off about the atmosphere around here; not a single person was around; not the sick or the healthy. Shane twisted the key to shut the car off, but kept the radio on. An emergency broadcast came on sayin' how there was an outbreak, and if you was bitten or scratched you are infected; to kill the infected aim for the brain. Unbuckling his seat belt, Shane motioned to me.
"We should only be a few minutes, but until we get back, keep the doors locked, ya hear?" Shane explained to Lori, who nodded at his demand. I slid more toward the door, hand on the handle. I waited for Shane to open his door before I opened mine, quietly walking around the front of the car to his side.
We quietly crept up to the closed front door, Shane having a knife in his hand, and a gun strapped to his thigh. I opened the screen door before I grabbed the golden door knob and twisted it, opening the door as quietly as I could. The silence from my house was absolutely unnerving, since usually my chocolate miniature pinscher Baby Girl would be barkin' up a storm by now. I peeked in just to notice the back door was wide open, and there was a bloody figure in the door way, gnawing on a small animal; that looked suspiciously like Baby Girl. Now that I'm paying closer attention to it, the bloody mess of a person had my mom's work uniform on.
I motioned to Shane, trying not to draw any attention of the sick person. He peeked in, a look of sorrow crossing his face as he looked down at me. My mind instantly connected that the person was my mom, and that she was already infected, and eating my dog. My eyes started to tear up, but I bit my lip to stop from crying.
Shane stepped on the hardwood floor of my house, quietly walking up to my mom's figure that was still occupied with my dog. As she turned around to attack him, Shane kicked her in the back, making her fall forward. Before my infected mom could react, Shane repeatedly began to slam the handle of his gun into the back of her head until it caved in, and she no longer moved.
He moved her body to where it was outside before he stepped back in, shutting the door behind him. He looked exhausted and sad. I just stared at him in shock. I would never get the image of my mom being killed because she was infected out of me head. Never. Shane moved to me, gently pushing me towards my room, telling me to get some clothes. The only thing I could do was nod, walking into my room.
I struggled to keep from cryin', grabbing the duffel bag I had in my closet and shoving clothes in it. I made sure to get my tooth brush and hair brush, and even managed to shove my combat boots and a couple books in there as well. As I turned to leave, I had a second thought. Spinning on my heel, I grabbed a picture of my mom and I holding Baby girl, jamming it into my pocket, and grabbed the small stuffed tiger my mom got me for my birthday. I decided that was all I would need, and went out of the room, gently shutting the door once I was out.
Shane was waiting by the front door for me, holding another bag that I assumed was stuff from my kitchen, which I didn't mind. I took a deep breath to prepare myself as Shane opened the door.
Once we stepped out of the house, down the street there was some of the infected people roaming. They were all bloody and mangled and I had to try my hardest to ignore the fear creeping up from the pit of my stomach. Shane leaned down, his mouth next to my ear.
"We have to run," he whispered to me. Giving a nod to tell express my understanding, we immediately began to run to the jeep, making it in record time. Once Carl and Lori unlocked the doors, we clambered in, slamming the doors as a few of the infected began shuffling toward the car. Shane twisted the key and slammed on the gas pedal. The tires squealed against the pavement as he tried to speed up more, in the direction toward Atlanta, where one of the safe areas had been reported, and away from the hospital that Rick was in.
"What are you doing? We have to get Rick," Lori demanded, hysterical. Shane gave a brief glance at me and Carl before his eyes trailed to look sadly at Lori.
"I went by earlier," he paused, "Lori. He's dead." The news shocked us all into silence. But before I could control it, my tears started to trail down my cheeks, and the held in whimpers came out as sobs. I tried to control it, but it just came out harder as Carl grabbed onto me and pulled me into a tight hug. I looked at his tear streaked face and just lost it. I hung onto Carl for dear life.
After a long time, I finally stopped crying. It felt like I didn't have anymore tears to let out, but the dull ache in my chest was still there, and I refused to let go of Carl. Lori seemed to recover from her shock as she glanced back at me through the mirror.
"Where's Miranda?" She asked quietly. Miranda was my mom; Her and Lori were close friends from high school.
Before Shane could answer her, I answered, "She didn't make it." Lori looked absolutely devastated. "She was eating Baby Girl," I quietly added, my hand going to mess with Carl's hair to try and comfort him, knowing he was torn up by his dad's death.
"I'm so sorry, Abigail," Lori turned around in her seat to look at me. She used my full name, so I immediately knew what she was going to say next was serious. "We'll take care of you, alright?"
I nodded, snuggling against Carl while fighting off the sleep that was trying to consume me- crying always did take a lot of my energy away. I knew it was true, that they would take care of me just fine. We were practically family. I just wished this could be a bad dream, and I'd wake up on Carl's floor, where I would have fallen asleep while we were playing video games, and that I could tell Carl all about it and he would laugh and call me crazy. But I knew this was different; I knew it was all really happening.