Author's Note:
Hello hello and welcome to my new project! I was scrolling through TWD fan fictions, and I noticed most of them just add an OC to an already established, apocalyptic world. Rather than start months into the outbreak, I wanted to explore the early days. The days when there's still power, media, and general frenzy. Claire, my protagonist, isn't a Michonne. She's an average person who has no idea what's going on. You'll see her make many rookie mistakes early on, but you'll also get to see her grow (alongside some TV show favorites).
This story is a little difficult to write. I'm going to follow cannon mostly (leaving out parts that bore me or aren't important), but some details are a little sketchy. For instance, how long is Rick in a coma? How long does it take them to reach the CDC? I've researched it a little bit, and I've settled on a timeline. Will it be the most accurate, I don't know, but I'm going to roll with it.
Also, I know Lori is no one's favorite character. I'm going to try to make her less annoying, and after the first few chapters, she won't be as much of a main player.
So, without further ado, I introduce you to Claire's story. Hopefully, you can find something in common with her :)
I open my eyes to faint sunlight slipping through the cracks of my closed blinds. My silky sheets hug my freshly shaved legs, and I reach my arms up to stretch my lethargic muscles. I hear a distant car alarm and realize it's what woke me so suddenly. I look at my smartphone to see it's only 7am, and I grunt in annoyance. Saturdays are my me days; my days when I don't have to listen to the teen drama that dominates my life. Don't get me wrong, I love my work as a high school counselor, but it can often be exhausting, and it's not always rewarding.
The car alarm refuses to shut off, and I angrily smash my other pillow over my ear to block out the noise. Just as I'm about drift off, I hear a scream.
My eyes fly open and I hop out of bed, almost tripping as my leg is momentarily snagged in my sheets. I make it to the window and open the blinds. The early morning sun makes me squint, but I see nothing. I feel my heart racing as I pull on my slippers and robe, grab my phone, and half-walk-half-jog to my front door. It's slightly breezy outside, but even this early I can tell it's going to be a hot day. I look up and down the street and see the cause of the commotion: Mrs. Antilly and her son playing chase three houses up the street, on the opposite side. Oddly enough, while the rest of the neighborhood is dead silent, there are quite a few people further up the street, walking in our direction. I smile and am about to head back inside when Mrs. Antilly screams again.
My head whips back around, and I am just thinking that she should really go back inside before she wakes up the whole street when something weird happens. One of the people on the street grabs her as she runs by, and he bites a gaping hole in the back of her neck. My jaw drops, and somehow I find my voice.
"Mrs. Antilly!" I shout, watching in horror. Blood soaks through her shirt, as more people from the street, her own son even, join in, biting and tearing and chewing her flesh. Her screams become one unified shriek, and I see houses come awake around me. Two doors down, Lori runs onto her front lawn. "Susan?! Susan!" She screams, sinking down to the ground with her hands over her mouth. I run my hand through my hair and pull it, hoping the pain will help me focus. I think back to the stories of people turning into savages and attacking people on the streets, but every news site said the outbursts were under control. Under control! I scoff. My heart feels like it's going to explode right out of my chest as I try to remember what the news anchors told us to do. Nothing. They just said it was safe. They just said not to worry. It hasn't even been on the news in a week.
In the short time this all runs through my head, one of the savages turns towards Lori, who is still immobile on the dewy grass.
"Lori! Lori get up!" My voice cracks as I run towards her, adrenaline pumping through my legs. My robe flies out behind me, and the dew soaks through my slippers. I vaguely register the discomfort of running without a bra on.
I reach Lori just as the thing is mere steps away, and I pull her back towards her house. She falls backward onto the grass, and as she scrambles to her feet, the savage reaches out two greenish, bloodied arms. "NO! Stay back!" I step forward and shove him as hard as I can. His listless eyes register no surprise, no pain, no confusion. He just falls backwards, never breaking eye contact, until it hits the ground. His mouth hangs open, and a guttural sound comes from his throat. I recognize him as another man who lives on this street. Peter Sampson; a man my parents knew well. A man who has watched me grow up.
Lori regains her feet, just as Peter starts to get back up, others from the street flanking it.
Wordlessly, we turn and sprint into her house. She deadbolts the door, and I see Carl peaking around the doorway to the kitchen in concern.
"What's going on out there?! Those people just started.. started… started eating her!" Lori gasps, clutching her hand to her chest.
"Mom, what's going on? Why's Claire here?" Carl asks, fear keeping his voice low.
"Shhhh, Carl, go watch cartoons, okay?" He nods and disappears, and I open my mouth to speak just when a loud thump comes from the door. I look through the glass, but its wavy design distorts my view. Even without clear vision, I can see several bodies pressed up against the door with more coming up the front steps.
"It's those monsters from the news.." I say, my voice squeaky and panicked. Calm down, you have to get a grip, I tell myself. I think of Lori as a scared teen, even though she is at least five years older than me, coming to my office for advice. I know how Lori operates in situations of stress - not only have I lived two doors down from her for six years, I have also been her shoulder to cry on these last two weeks since Rick was shot. She is inadvertently great at talking herself into an anxiety attack, and that wouldn't help anyone right now. Especially not her son.
I take a couple of big breaths and count my fingers, as I have done so many times when I've needed to clear my head and check my emotions.
"They said they were taken care of-"
"Yes, they did. Not the first time the media has lied to us. Come on Lori, we have to get ready. If the police don't show up soon, we'll have to leave. You pack some food and supplies, I'll go pack some clothes." Lori nods and runs to a hallway closet where she pulls out Carl's book bag and two large duffels. I take one and leave the thumping and groaning behind as I bound up the stairs. Without so much as a second thought, I quickly pull on some of Lori's jeans, a sports bra, black cami, and a blue and yellow flannel. The clothes are tight on me, and a little long, but luckily our feet are the same size. I put on a pair of her sneakers which are clearly worn. She probably uses them for yard work.
Once I have some changes of clothes for Lori, Carl, and me, I toss in some laundry detergent, soap from the hall bath, three towels, the two toothbrushes in the cup on the counter, and toothpaste. I open the medicine cabinet and take a moment to stare at all of the bottles and boxes. I doubt we'll really have to leave, and if we do, wherever the government sends us is sure to have mostly everything. I decide just to grab some bandaids, Tums, and aspirin. I eye the box of tampons, but decide to leave it. My period is two weeks away, and if we do leave, we'll probably be back home by then.
I head back downstairs to see Lori putting the last of several photo albums into Carl's backpack. Cabinets are wide open all over the kitchen, and I see her duffel holds canned foods, boxed snacks, and a water bottle for each of us. Carl sinks into a chair at the breakfast table, and I drop my bag on the ground.
"Let's see what's on the news," I say, moving to the front living room. I see some of the crazy people on the front porch through the glass. When they see me, they grow louder. They don't seem to understand that there's glad between us - they simply thrust their bodies up against it and paw at the barrier.
I turn on the local news station, but even though it should be on right now, the screen is black.
"Try MSNBC," Lori says, raising one of her hands to her mouth nervously. She eyes the window with concern. I find the channel and am pleased to see the news is running. I turn the volume up as loud as it will go so we can hear it over the growing noise outside.
"-more on that later. Now we join Milissa Rehberger, live in King County Georgia at King County Hospital. Milissa."
"Rick," Lori whispers, her eyes searching the screen for answers.
"Thanks Brian. I'm here at King County Hospital, where the situation has escalated. Local authorities say they have the situation under control, but clearly the number of injured has continued to rise." The camera pans over to an ambulance where a bloody individual is wheeled out on a stretcher. There are visible bite marks all over her body, but the EMTs simply unload her next to a dozen others already outside the hospital. The EMTs themselves look pretty banged up, with bloody fabric tied around various limbs. Then they climb back in and race off, as another crew moves to take over the new patient's care.
"Hospital staff are allowing visitors for registered patients, but visitors of new admits are being asked to wait until the overcrowding issues are taken care of. For now, military personnel have not been dispatched to the area, as local authorities believe the situation will be under control within a few hours. Back to you, Brian."
"Thanks Milissa." I switch off the TV, allowing the deafening groaning to demand our attention once again. Lori paces the room.
"Dad's okay, right?" Carl asks. I didn't even notice him enter the room.
"Yes sweetie your dad's fine. He's just going to have to share his doctors for a little while."
"Can we still visit him today?"
"I don't know.. I think we should stay here.." Lori responds unsurely. I'm about to agree when I hear a splitting sound. I step aside Lori and stare at the front door in horror.
"They're breaking it down!" I exclaim. Sure enough, the door starts to give way. I see a few arms reach through the now gaping hole.
"We have to go."
"Where?!"
"I don't know, but we can't stay here! Come on, let's get the bags."
We run to the kitchen just as the door collapses. One savage after another stumbles in, and we waste no time running out into the backyard. It's quieter and empty back here, and we round the house with Lori leading the way. We get to the driveway just in time to see the last of the crowd enter the house. There had to be at least fifteen of them.
Lori pats her front and back pockets. "Shit- I didn't grab the keys." I look across the street to see some are still hovering over Mrs. Antilly. Down the road, a teenager out for his morning jog dodges a few of them before sprinting back towards his house in panic.
"We can take my car," I say. We start jogging towards my house when a police car comes speeding down the street.
"LORI!" a deep voice shouts. I see Lori mouth Shane's name.
"Lori, we have to go!" He shouts. I look behind us to see the ones in the house have followed us, and I put my hand on Carl's back.
"Go go go!" I say. Up and down the street I see more and more of the savage people moving around. Blood stains the grayed pavement and runs through the cracks in the sidewalks. Screams ring out from lawns and houses. A mini van flies by, not stopping when it runs over one of the crazed.
"We can't let them touch us. We don't know how this thing spreads. And if they get us, we'll die." Lori nods along, eyes wide in fear. We reach the car, and I open the back door.
"Get in, get in!" Carl climbs in first as Lori takes the front seat. Some of the savages have reached the driver side of the car, and their ghoulish hands claw at Shane's window. I stuff my bag in before pulling the door closed behind me. Just as I'm in, Shane guns it, tearing up the street.
"What's going on?!" Lori demands. I'm still high on adrenaline, and I suck in air as I try to calm back down.
"The news is wrong. I was at the station, and we were getting all sorts of calls about attacks on streets. It was just like here - those sons of bitches were biting everyone. Some of the guys came back all bloodied up. I went out on a call, and we told them to stand down, but they just came at us soon as we started yelling. We shot some down, but it's like some of 'em are immune." His words tumble out of his mouth as he tries to keep up with his thoughts. "I went back after but it was just like here.." He pauses, and when he speaks again there's grief in his voice. "They got inside and attacked everyone.. So I came for you. How'd you wind up with Claire?"
"I heard Susan getting attacked, and then Peter came at me... Claire pushed him away. She saved me-" Lori stops short. I hear a ragged breath, and the next thing I know there are sobs wracking through her. Up until now, everything has been so surreal I've had little time to react. Now, though, in the safety of the car, with Shane, strong, smart, armed Shane, I feel my eyes flood. We're alive, but we almost weren't.
It takes a minute or two for both of us to calm down enough to speak, and Lori's first word comes out in a panic.
"Rick! Shane, Rick! What's going to happen?" He glances at her in the rearview. Eyes back on the road, he shakes his head. At this point, we're barely creeping along the streets of our neighborhood. We're safe here in the car, but none of us knows where to go next.
"I don't know. He's still asleep. I don't know if this shit's hit the hospital yet-"
"We have to go there! We have to go now!" Lori reaches over to grab Shane's forearm.
"I don't know.." He says hesitatingly.
"No Shane! We have to go see my dad," Carl speaks up for the first time. His voice is shaky, and I realize he's been crying too.
"Come on, Shane. If it's too dangerous we can leave, but we have to try," Lori begs. I bite my lip. I'm not sure if going to the hospital is a good idea - we saw how busy they were on the news. But, I think about if it were my dad. I've never been married, but I know if it were my dad I'd demand to see him. Plus, until the government tells us where to go, we have nothing else to do.
"The lunatics hadn't gotten that far when we saw the news a little while ago," I say.
"... Alright, we'll go." The car speeds up again, and I turn my head to watch the scene outside the windows. We turn around in a driveway, briefly coming face to face with a bloodied teenager.
"Help!" He screams, just as another savage reaches out to take a chunk out of his outstretched arm. None of us speak as Shane backs down the driveway, leaving the boy. By refusing to stop, we all know this boy doesn't stand a chance. A minute goes by.
"Our car is too full," Shane finally whispers. It's a bullshit excuse, but no one objects.
The attack seems to have stemmed from the east, and as we drive west towards the hospital, the scene becomes more normal.
"Where's the military? The police? Why isn't anyone stopping it?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.
"The station is on the east side of town. I haven't heard a word on the radio since I left." We fall silent for a few moments, everyone understanding but no one wanting to say what it means.
"I have my cell phone, I'll call 911. See what they say," Lori eventually says. She pulls out her iPhone and dials the number slowly and steadily. I hear the phone ring several times before a woman answers.
"Hi, my name is Lori Grimes, and I'm calling about the incident in King County," she says perkily, adopting a pleasant tone. "I woke up this morning and those-those things from the news were all around. My neighbor was attacked-" She falls silent, listening closely.
"Yes, King County. I was wondering when we can expect the military and where we should-" Another pause. Lori's voice sounds frustrated when she continues, "When will you- … Well what am I supposed to do now?! … But-" Lori pulls her phone from her ear and taps the screen in disbelief. "She hung up!"
"What'd she say?" Shane asks.
"She said she has no idea when the military will be here. She just kept saying to stay calm and stay home and watch the news for more instructions." Shane and I look at Lori in disbelief. Stay home? Yeah, and what about when your front door is ripped apart?
Shane's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Let's just get to the hospital. We'll figure it out from there."