This is my first chapter of my first Walking Dead story... This takes place when Rick's group is still located at the prison.

Enjoy! & Thanks for reading!

Criticism is welcome :)


I've been on the road for weeks, maybe months. I've stopped keeping track of time, I've stopped tracking the days. Why would I?

I've been roaming through endless woods. Scared, alone, cold, hungry. I've killed dozens of walkers. Maybe 40, maybe more. I've stopped keeping track. Why would I?

I'm starting to lose hope. What kind of a life is sleeping under tree, while constantly endangered, and so hungry your stomach feels like it's eating itself?

This is my life now, and there isn't much I can do about it. All I can do is survive and keep moving. What kind of life is that?

My legs and eyes are heavy, as I trudge through a river. I can tell I've lost a noticeable amount of weight, and I can feel that my hair is thinning. My exposed skin is blistering from a very bad sunburn. A camp with food, water, and shelter is essential for me.

My breathing starts to become heavy and I feel myself getting exhausted from the physical exertion of walking. I found the nearest tree stump to rest, and it was a good place due to an abundance of foliage and trees around me. I was concealed and hidden. I placed my semi-automatic pistol in the grass beside me, along with a bag filled with other supplies, such as a flashlight, batteries, tampons, a few knifes, a very empty canteen, and a shitload of medications. Before the outbreak, I had just graduated from the Medical College of Georgia and started my new job as a pharmacist at the local hospital. Let's just say the hospital had a significantly less supply of medicine when I left it.

I place my hand over my forehead and I feel it pound. I feel like hell, I look like hell, I'm living in hell. My life was so beautiful before this. Whoever first said, "you never know what you have until it's gone," is extremely accurate and a fucking douchebag for that.

When I reached into my bag to grab some tylenol, I heard a rustle in the woods in front of me. I grabbed a knife out of my bag and prepared to kill a walker. I saw movement in the leafage in front of me. I braced myself, as I was still not exactly used to the walkers. I was a wimp in my other life. I couldn't even kill a spider. I gripped my knife as the noise I have been hearing turned into a being that stepped through the foliage.

A lump caught in the back of my throat when I realized the noise was not from a walker at all. Two people were before me. Actual living, breathing people. My eyes starting brimming with tears from relief and happiness. The two people were men, with weapons aimed right towards me. On instinct I placed my hands over my head, still gripping my knife.

The man who I saw first was also the first one to talk. "Who are you? Are you with any one else?" His voice was deep and rumbly, which matched his appearance. He had dark, long hair, with bangs shaping his face. He was wearing dark jeans with a cutoff tank top under which looked like a leather vest. He looked mean, and the crossbow he had pointed at me was extremely intimidating.

I kept my voice strong and didn't let it wavier. "Joanna Hale. I'm alone. I have been for about a month now."

The other man behind the archer spoke up. He was obviously Asian, probably Korean. He had thick black hair that was arranged in a way that almost looked stylish. "You've been on the road, by yourself, for a month? Holy shit."

I nodded in his direction. The archer asked me another question. "Do you have any weapons?"

I hesitant at first to answer, but I was still hoping that they would take me to their camp if they had one. I was desperate, and as much as I didn't want to, I had to trust them.

"Yes," I replied. I have a pistol in this bag," I gestured to the sack on the ground, "and I have a few knives in there as well. But that's all."

"Have you killed any walkers?" He asked.

"Yes," I nodded.

"How many?"

I looked up and thought for several moments, trying to give the archer a good estimate. "50. Probably more."

"Have you killed any humans?"

His question caught me off guard, and my voice was caught in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and tried not to cry, remembering the only person I have ever killed. It haunts me everyday. But I keep telling myself, you had to. He asked you to, and you loved him. You loved him so much. You would have done anything for him.

I nodded. "Yes, I have."

"Why?"

I took a few seconds to think of a good answer to this hard question, "He was going to turn. He asked me to."

The archer nodded like that answer was sufficient. "When was the last time you ate?" He grumbled.

I tried to think, and I couldn't come with an accurate answer. "I don't remember."

The Korean man looked at me, "Do you have a camp anywhere?"

Horrible memories filled my head and I tried to force them out, "No, not anymore. We had a camp at the church I went to as a kid. It was going too well for too long. It was overrun. I'm the only one who made it out."

He nodded, and looked at the archer, "Should we bring her back with us?"

My eyes widened, realizing these two men do have a camp.

The archer nodded, his eyes never left me. He was seriously scary. He turned his back without saying a word and walked through the leaves.

Relief flooded my stomach, and I thanked God for bringing me these two men. Smile was plastered to my face and It would not be erased. I thought about food and water while following these two men. I made sure not to say too much, as I didn't want to seem annoying. This could be my chance for safety and shelter.

The Korean man looked at me, "I'm Glenn, and that's Daryl." His face was expressionless. I made the assumption that Glenn was a very outgoing and happy guy the other life, but has become sad and angry with the world. I tried to guess what his occupation was before the outbreak, maybe he just got out of college like me. I did this a lot when I meet strangers, it keeps things interesting.

I nodded back at Glenn. "Nice to meet you both."

We walked in silence for awhile, and eventually realized that we were walking in the direction of a road. Daryl and Glenn must have a car nearby. I had so many questions running through my head, Where's their camp? How many people does it consist of? Is there actually a camp?

Daryl interrupting my thoughts, "Do you have any questions for us?"

I bit my tongue and still refused to ask anything, "No, I don't. Frankly, I don't give a fuck about where the camp is, what the camp is, or anything like that. Trusting you is my last resort, I wouldn't have lasted much longer out here by myself."

Daryl nodded, "Fair enough."

We finally made it to the car, it was an old, Dodge truck, probably from 2000. I tried to hide how out of breath I was. I was so exhausted, and thirsty, and hungry. I felt so weak.

Daryl insisted I sat in the bed of the truck, which I thought was hysterical. I probably weighed 120 pounds soaking wet. Yep, I'm a huge threat. But still, I complied. The cold wind felt great on my skin, anyways. I closed my eyes and smiled. After all of the shit I have been through, I finally had some hope. My conscious was telling me I could trust these men, but I was still slightly nervous about what's going to happen next after arriving to their camp. With my skills and my past professions, I'm a hot commodity for these situations, right? I'll make sure to tell them that I'm knowledgeable about medicine and anatomy and sickness. And I have that shitload of medicine in my bag. Everything will be okay.

I opened my eyes again when I realized the car slowing down. I looked around at my surroundings and I spotted a very large prison, encompassed by a metal fence and dozens of walkers. The car rocked slightly because of the gravel road leading up to the prison, while a young boy with a too large of a sheriff's hat on pulled back a large fence to allow us into the main yard. I noticed several people along the fence and on top of watch towers with large weapons. I began to become weary, and my stomach started filling with butterflies. I took a deep breath and stumbled out of the bed once the truck came to a stop.


Closed to death, Joanna is saved by two of my favorite characters! Hopefully Rick agrees to keep her around...