A/N: I do not own The Walking Dead, and make no money from this story. I haven't really "cast" anyone for the roles, except for Connor. For him, I imagine a teenage Leonardo DiCaprio. On with the story!

Sixteen year old Connor Dixon tries to ignore the heated discussion coming from the front seat. His cousins Brad and Steve had been arguing for at least twenty minutes. Connor places earbuds into his ears and turns the volume of his phone up as much as is comfortable. He can still hear the profanity and growling voices from the other two.

Why do Dad and I have to live with grandpa and Uncle Merle? At least these idiots live in their own trailer.

Connor opens up his text messages to message his father. Why couldn't I go with you? These two are insufferable!

A moment later, the ding sounds into Connor's ears indicating a text message came in. Not enough room in the cab. Merle's bike is taking up too much space in the back. Try not to be too condescending to the boys. You know they hate that.

Pain erupts in Connor's knee after Steve raps his knuckles against it. "Hey, smartass! Who're ya texting? Your girlfriend?"

Oh, great! Connor tries to avoid rolling his eyes.

Brad joins in. "She send nudes? Give them up."

Connor holds down the volume button on the side of his phone. "Not that it's any of your business, but Dad is the one texting me."

Brad glances at Connor. "What he say?"

Connor holds Steve's gaze, instead. "He said that he and your dad are on their way to the cabin." Before either of them could respond, Connor asks. "Your sister is coming, right?"

Brad is the one who answers. "Yeah, Savannah is comin'." He turns his head so he can look at Connor. "Ya'll can do all that book talkin' ya'll like."

Steve shouts. "Look out!"

Connor's head smashes into the window beside him as the truck's wheels move over something large. He brings his hand to his forehead and feels something wet. He knows what it'll be, so when he examines his fingers, he's not surprised to see blood. The glass beside him is cracked from the impact. He groans as his head rolls to the side.

Brad slams on the brakes, causing everyone to jolt forward. He looks into the rearview mirror. A man's body is laying in the road. "What the hell?"

"This is why I always tell ya to pay attention to everything when you're driving!" Steve shouts. He looks over his shoulder. "Connor? Ya okay back there?"

Connor meets Steve's gaze and nods.

Brad sees Connor's face in the mirror. "Damnit, Uncle Daryl's gonna kill me!" His eyes roam to the body lying in the middle of the road. "Shit!"

"Bro, ya killed someone!"

Connor turns in his seat and sees the body. I knew riding with them was a mistake! Oh, my God!

Brad's nostrils flare as panic rises through his body. I can't do time for this! They'll give me the death penalty for manslaughter! His hands grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. "Nobody tells anybody about this! Ya got it?" He turns a glare to his brother, whom was unraveling some paper towels. He tears them off the roll and gives them to Connor.

"Thanks." Connor tells him before applying the paper towels to his injury.

"I'm serious!" Brad roars as his fingers tighten even more around the steering wheel, causing him pain.

Steve narrows his eyes at Brad. "Calm your ass down, little brother! We're not gonna rat ya out, right Connor?"

Connor struggles to answer, knowing it's a lie. "Right." I'll definitely tell Dad. We don't keep secrets from each other. He needs to know about this!

Steve turns back to his brother. "See? No big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! I just murdered someone!"

Steve reaches over and grips Brad's upper arm. "It was an accident! We just said that we're not gonna tell anyone, so calm the hell down! Nobody else is around and we haven't touched the body, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Brad takes a shaky breath and his eyes return to the mirror. The man on the road begins to move. "He's alive."

Steve watches the man struggle to stand in the side mirror. "Then what the hell are ya waitin' for? Let's go before he can read the license plate and call the law!"

Brad steps on the gas pedal and everyone is forced backwards as the truck lunges forward.

Steve sneers at his brother. "Damnit, Brad! Am I gonna have to drive the rest of the way?"

"Ya don't complain when we race down the street."

"Yeah, but we have Connor with us, ya dumbass!"

Brad grins, seemingly forgetting about his head on collision. "Aw, hell, he can handle it!"

"Hey, man, in case ya forgot, Connor is injured! Ya really wanna get a beat down from Uncle Daryl?"

Brad rolls his eyes before he eases his foot off the gas pedal. "Fine."

In the backseat, Connor breathes a sigh of relief and closes his eyes. He removes the ball of paper towels from his forehead only to see it covered in blood. "Do you have any more paper towels?"

Steve looks at the wad of paper towels in Connor's hand. "Shit! I think we'll need to stop at a hospital or something."

Brad say. "We'll be late if we make a stop."

Steve glares at Brad. "He needs stitches."

"Aunt Margaret can stitch him back up."

Steve pounds the door with his fist. "No! He's losing too much blood, ya moron! We need to find someplace now!"

Brad shouts. "Alright, alright!"

Connor uses the headrest and closes his eyes. I wish Dad was here.

Steve's voice breaks into Connor's thoughts. "Hey! Keep your eyes open, boy! Ya might have a concussion!"

Connor opens his eyes again and sees Steve holding out another wad of paper towels. Connor takes them and holds them to his forehead, before he stares out the window as Brad turns the truck onto another road.