Jess POV
I am startled awake by a familiar but unexpected rumbling sound. My weary eyes snap open and I quickly shuffle out of my dirty pile of blankets making no attempt to be quiet as I crawl to the grimy window as the sound nears and begins to echo around the small street.
"No way," I whisper as I see the cause of all the noise.
I squint in through the slowly setting sun as I watch the bike drive slowly and loudly through the street.
The rider is clad in jeans and an ugly poncho. He also has a lethal looking crossbow on his back. I gasp and duck when his head swivels towards my window as he scans the streets. I peek carefully as the sound of the bike moves further down the street.
He stops at the bottom and turns back around revving the engine unnecessarily before he speeds off down the road leaving a trail of swirling dust and leaves in his wake. I watch his retreating figure as I curse him for making so much damn noise. It is bound to attract one of the dead that I have been avoiding now for, well I'm not sure how long. I get up to check my door is firmly locked before I allow myself to settle back down in the blankets cold and angry.
Stupid fool driving around in his big stupid bike making so much damn noise, I think bitterly to myself as I try to get comfortable.
I haven't seen dead person for days now and he has gone and alerted whatever is nearby.
Idiot, this is why I left those other fools, for being careless. I hate this damn country! That's what I get for wanting an adventure I suppose. The end of the world and the fight for survival, the biggest adventure ever.
Now I am here alone in a strange country with nothing but my thoughts and my trusty, stolen, baseball bats to keep me company.
I close my eyes again and listen to the now deafening silence and sigh. What I would give for a cup of tea, a warm bed and to see my family again. I pull the blankets up around my chin letting my mind drift back to when I last seen them.
"Jessie are you sure you want to do this?" my sister Chloe asked as I walked into terminal two at Heathrow airport. I turned around and looked at her with a smile.
"I have the tickets Chloe, my bags are packed and I'm here. No point turning back now," I said happily looking up at the departure boards. "Atlanta here I come." Chloe stepped up beside me and sighed.
"You know you don't have to prove anything?" she said softly as she looked up at the boards. I looked back at her words failing me. "Gary was just being cruel," she said still staring up at the board. I winced a little at the mention of my ex before answering.
"That's not why I..."
"Just, please don't do anything stupid and be careful," she said interrupting what would have been an outright lie from me.
"I will. I will keep you and dad informed with what I am doing and where I am," I said with a smile as she turned back to me. She nodded and pulled me into a hug.
"Just do whatever you have to do and come back to us ok?" she said her voice tight.
"Yeah of course. Don't worry about me it is only two months I will be just fine," I said squeezing her. I pulled away from her and she smiled at me.
"I love you," she said making my eyes sting. I let out a startled laugh and shoved her playfully.
"I love you too," I replied with a smile.
"Now piss off before I start to cry," she said shoving me towards the security line. I backed away smiling and holding back my tears.
"Bye sis, see you soon," I said as I waved at her. She began walking away but stopped and turned around with a beaming smile.
"Oh and don't forget, have fun!" she said grinning at me before turning around and walking out of the building.
That was the last I seen of my sister, six months two weeks and four days ago.
A quite groan makes my eyes open again and I feel my heart skip a beat. I am frozen on the spot barely breathing when I hear it again, another desperate moan coming from outside my window. I untangle myself from my blankets and move my stiff body towards the window. When I peer out my blood runs cold. They are everywhere. The dead are aimlessly waking through the town I watch as they bump into abandoned cars and limp over debris.
I look over to the wall and as I run my finger over the rough lines drawn there I count seventeen scratches on the wall. Seventeen, that is how many days I have gone without seeing a dead and now there are twenty plus of them out there. I angrily scratch out my marks with my knife and double check my door is closed. I stand back at the window and watch throughout the night as dead after dead wander through the street and I silently curse that damn rider.
Finally dawn breaks and I watch as the sun rises up over the houses. Even in this world, especially this world, it is good to take a few minutes to remember there are still beautiful things, even if it does illuminate the real horror that I now live in. I look down at the street and I am slightly relieved to find only a few dead wandering around.
I am hungry and I know today I will have to go out and look for some more food. My supplies are running low. I decide to have a quick sleep before heading out. Going out when tired is never a good idea.
I always tend to sleep through the day, as the dead don't seem as scary then, they are easier to spot. But at night well, they are a lot sneakier. I check my door again knowing full well it is fine and I curl up in my corner and close my eyes.
I dream of driving down a long winding road that is surrounded by lush green trees while listening to loud music and singing along terribly. I'm happy in my dream; I feel content and carefree. I watch as other cars drive around me and I can hear the comforting low rumbling of my car.
It gets louder and louder and I start to panic, my hands start to shake on the wheel. I jump awake when the noise becomes deafening. I instinctively snatch up my knife and one of my bats before I rush to the window. I'm startled by what I see as I peer between the ratty curtains.
The bike man is back and he has brought friends, there is a gruff looking man, a powerful looking woman and to my horror and shock a young boy with a sheriffs hat and he is carrying what unmistakably a gun. I stare at the group transfixed and watch as the other man talks to the group with authority that looks both direct and kind. He points to each of them in turn then he and the young boy head off in the direction of the grocery store.
There's nothing in there pal, I think sadly, having searched high and low in there for supplies for myself. This little town was pretty well raided before I got here.
The biker and the tall black woman, who is wielding impressive, looking samurai, walk away on their own. I watch as they disappear along the street. I stay stood frozen at the window watching and waiting for them to reappear. I'm relieved when I see the man and the boy come out of the store. They are carrying boxes and I squint to try and see what they have got but I cannot quite make it out. I really thought that place was cleaned out. I can't help the pang of disappointment and irritation as they load the boxes into their car.
The woman reappears carrying blankets and some clothes. She tosses them in the car and walks towards another house slicing the head off one of the dead with minimal effort.
I hear a creak outside my room making me spin around quickly. Someone or something is outside. I hold my breath trying not to make a sound when I hear a soft thud then a heavy one. Then the definite sound of footfalls. I lift my bat up as I see a shadow outside my door. The handle rattles a few times and I hear a grunt from behind the door. I swallow hard even though my mouth is completely dry; I square my shoulders and take a deep breath ready to fight for my life. I grip my bat tightly and gasp loudly when there is a loud bang. I stand in confusion when I feel a white hot searing pain in my arm and the bat drops loudly to the ground.
"Damn it!" I groan as I reach round to cup my arm. I pull my hand back instantly when I feel something hot and sticky. I look down at my hand and I am shocked to find it's covered in blood. The pain intensifies and I spin around to look out of the window where my curtain has fallen down. I see the boy staring up at me with his gun raised and I realise, he just shot me.
"Stop Carl!" The man gruff man shouts. I hear him clearly through the now broken window. He looks up at me and his eyes widen as he pushes the boys gun down. "Damn it!" he says through his teeth as our eyes lock. There is a crash behind me. I spin back around as the door swings open and poncho man stumbles through holding up his crossbow.
"Who're you?" he asks his voice rough and tense. I stare at him in shock as I grip my bleeding arm. His eyes dart to my arm then back to my face. "You bit?" he barks at me stepping closer threateningly pointing his crossbow between my eyes. I open my mouth to answer but as I do my world goes black and I fall to the floor.
Daryl POV
"Shit!" I say as I watch the girl fallin' to the floor in a heap. I lower ma crossbow an' stare at her for a few seconds before stepping over her an' lookin' out the window. I can see Carl an' Michonne starin' up at me lookin' confused an' in Carl's case a little guilty.
"Daryl," I hear Rick shoutin' from the bottom of the stairs.
"Up here," I holler back as I crouch down by the girl an' feel for a pulse. It thuds quickly in her neck an' I feel to see if she is burnin' up. She aint. Rick rounds the corner an' stares down at us.
"She dead?" he asks lookin' guiltily at her.
"Nah, she got hit though," I say pointin' to her bleedin' arm. I look up at Rick who gives me a worried look. "Carl?" I ask, Rick nods grimly an' I roll the girl over. She moans lightly an' I back away instinctively.
"What we gonna do?" Rick asks as she goes still again. I look up at him an' shrug.
"She'll die if we jist leave her," I say with a look to Rick who nods, his face pale an' exhausted lookin'.
"Can you carry her?" he asks. I quirk my eyes in surprise both at his question, because she is a slip of a thing an' also that he is willin' to bring her back. Ever since he brought the Woodbury folk home that day he had been more relaxed with lettin' others in, but never before answerin' his three questions.
How many walkers have you killed? How many people have you killed? Why? If he doesn't get an answer to those three questions they don't get to come back with us.
"You sure man?" I ask as I swing my crossbow onto my back.
"I'll ask her when she wakes up," he says rubbin' his neck. "My boy shot her least I can do is get her healed up."
"What ever you say man," I say scoopin' her up. I hold back a groan as I do underestimatin' how heavy she was. Rick gives me a little knowin' look an' I glare at him.
"You gonna manage there old man?" he says with a smug grin.
"Shuddup," I say walkin' past him.