Author's note: Hey, this is my first story so please help me. I love the walking dead, and I love Daryl Dixon, hence this story. The first two chapters won't contain a lot of Daryl, but soon he will be joining in. I've decided to start/post a new chapter everytime I get a review, favorite or follower to the story, so please do review and let me know what you think! I would really appreciate it!

Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my own characters and storyline.

Chapter 1

I never liked running. At school I used to think of a million excuses and just hope one would be good enough for me not to have to run. Needless to say I was in a bad mood right now, running down the street. To make it even worse I was being chased by a bunch of undead zombies! Oh wait, zombies are undead so I wouldn't have to call them that.

'Yeah, great time to think about those little details' I muttered to myself, out of breath so it sounded strange.

I rolled my eyes while I said it, not smart. Suddenly I found myself on the ground, pretty sure I'd scraped my arm and was bleeding heavily.

'Fuck' I cursed, scrambling up to my feet and seeing walkers come from every alleyway behind me. I quickly glanced around, trying to find some kind of escape. Instead I found even more walkers coming my way from in front of me, I was being surrounded.

'And then they call them stupid.' I cursed.

Normally I'd feel stupid for talking to myself, but let's just say that 'normal' is something that has left this earth. 'Normal' was waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, maybe pancakes. 'Normal' was walking in the park with my dog and smiling at by passers. 'Normal' was thinking zombies belonged in movies, and in my imagination.

'Normal' was not, and I repeat not, waking up and eating a squirrel I'd caught the day before. Or walk in the park with undead people all around you. This situation here, was far from normal.

I took a second to think, looking around and taking in my surroundings. I knew this place well, had grown up here. If I could get through the park I might be able to get to the store I'd been planning on going to. Hopefully without undead encounters. I checked my gun quickly and started running past walkers, making sure they wouldn't get close enough to grab me and if they did shooting them in the head.

I've always had a hate/love relationship with guns, but never as much as today. I had used it already, earlier this morning, which was the reason I was being chased right now, hence the hate part. The love part was pretty obvious as I shot down another walker.

I saw a whole bunch of them in front of me and I cursed under my breath. I saw the picnic table that had somehow trapped them and knew it was drastic, but I was in the need of something drastic right now.

That exact picnic table, also the only picnic table in the park, had been used for many of my mother's family barbecues. I would've never thought I would be jumping on top of one someday, at least not in a sober state. 'Stuntwoman career, here I come.' I said right before jumping on top of the table in a swift movement and practically flying over the walkers gathered around there. So maybe they were stupid, for being trapped by a picnic table, but they had been smart enough to surround me so maybe they were acting?

As I landed in a crouch and quickly got up to continue running, I shook my head. Damn imagination I thought.

You could say I was crazy, my mom rather told me I had a great imagination. An imagination which sometimes could be just a bit macabre. One time I was watching a guy mow the lawn at our school and considering I loved horror movies I started thinking of things that could happen. One of them had been a hand suddenly clawing out of the grass, like a zombie's, how I regretted the thought now.

I seemed to love stories about zombie invasions, but when it was actually happening, not so much.

I glanced back and saw the walkers still behind me, I guess I was lucky. I kept on running, making sure to avoid any other walkers that came my way, or shoot them if necessary.

Like I said before I never knew what to think of guns, until the whole 'end of the world' thing started, that's when I loved them. Guns had been the things that made my father unable to walk, killed my cousin in Afghanistan and destroyed people's lives. Now it was destroying undead people's lives and I loved it. I was a good aim, even after my dad got shot he taught me how to protect myself. It was the one thing I could do with my father to really connect, I had to become good at it. Thank God for that.

I didn't cry thinking about my father, or anyone else in my family. I knew they were gone. Not all of them permanently dead, just the ones I killed myself, but dead anyway.

The moment the store came into view I actually wanted to cheer, but that would've taken time, precious time. I began sprinting even faster, soon running over cars so I wouldn't have to maneuver myself past the cars to get through the street.

The store came closer and I focused on the ground windows to see if they had been broken open by any walker, or human for that matter. I couldn't see anything wrong and, after a quick instinctive glance around, climbed up the drain pipe to the roof of the garage next to the store. I could access the roof in that way and climb through the upper window, which walkers didn't exactly seem to be able to reach.

Inside the store I felt safe for a second, soon dismissing the feeling. I wasn't safe, and if I didn't hurry no one was. I grabbed bottles of water, some cans of food and medicinal supplies. That was about everything the neighborhood store had, the owner wanted it that way. Well had wanted it. I had known him before he died, he was a good man. When someone didn't have the money to pay for the things they needed he'd lend it to them. Everyone thought it had been a shame he died during a robbery a few weeks before the whole walker thing started, I guess that was just God's way of saving the ones who deserved to be saved.

I narrowed my eyes at that thought, thinking of the ones occupying my house now. They hadn't done anything wrong, why should they be left here? Why would God decide these things like this?

'No one ever had answers to life questions Kaitlinn, not even before all this. What makes you think you'd get to the bottom of it all by yourself?' That's what my dad had asked to me when I asked him that exact same question while he was still alive. I'd answered with something that made him mad, probably because it contained God and several swear words. He was religious, I wasn't really. Not after the things I'd seen at least.

I slipped one strap of the backpack over my shoulder and was just about to reload my gun and leave again when something caught my eye. I grinned suddenly and grabbed it, together with a bag I'd noticed earlier. Then I turned around and went back.

The streets seemed to have quieted down now, I guess the aftermath of my gunshot was finally over. This morning I'd been cornered, the damn thing gave me no choice. I had lost my last knife and hadn't really had time to find a weapons dealer somewhere, so I had to do something to survive.

My house came in sight and I saw absolutely no walker around, which was more than weird because there always were a few around. I wondered about it but soon decided to just be happy with it.

I went in and locked the door behind me, nailing it shut with some floorboards and bolt locks. How lucky I was to have my aunt be paranoid of robbers. Well not only me.

I turned around and pulled my bag off my shoulders, 'Ladies and gentlemen,' I said, just a bit louder than I usually talked, not wanting to attract attention of any walker that turned out to still be out there. 'I present you with your early and late birthday presents.'

Three kids came running my way, two boys and a girl. The girl was younger than her two brothers and they were very protective of her, I liked it, it reminded me of my own brother.

'What is it?' The taller boy asked me. He was the eldest of the three, Zayn. His short brown hair had been cut with a knife and it looked like a war was going on on his head. He looked tough and his eyes were a cold ice blue, which is what the zombies did to him, but he couldn't hide the relief of seeing me back, nor the curiosity of what I had with me.

'I heard this morning, from a certain someone's mother, that there was a birthday coming up.' I said. The little girl grinned. She would be 9 in three days, her mother had told me. I'd been surprised she was keeping track, but I guess that's what mother's do, and the girl herself as well obviously.

'I've got something for you.' I said with a smile and pulled my bag off my shoulder, rummaging through it. I looked at her and saw excitement and curiosity reflected in her blue eyes. You'd never say Kirra was Zayn's sister. Not by her blonde hair and not by the warmth radiating from her eyes, but the way Zayn took care of her said enough.

I grinned and pulled out the Barbie doll I'd found in the store earlier. At least I thought it was a Barbie doll, haven't seen one in a long time. It had surprised me, to find it there, but who is there to question God's will, as my father would've said.

Her eyes widened and she reached for the doll, she looked it over and then hugged it close to her chest, 'Thank you Kate, thank you, thank you, thank you!' She chanted, hugging my leg. I smiled and stroked her hair.

'Happy birthday little Kirra. Why don't you go show it to your mother?' She looked at me and nodded, hurrying up the stairs quickly. I smiled at the boys, Zayn looking happy that his sister was happy and Nico looking just a bit sad.

'You didn't think I'd forget you right?' I asked him. His blue eyes, a mix of the cold in Zayn's and the warmth in Kirra's, filled with surprise a second, soon changing into his own excitement. I pulled out a bag of lollipops I'd found as well, knowing he'd love them. He skipped towards me and took them, smiling bright. He nodded once and sped off as well, he wasn't much of a talker. Actually I only ever heard him speak on sentence, 'help my family', which was on the day I found them. He had croaked it more, looking scared and lonely.

His brown hair hadn't been cut with a knife, instead it was reaching his shoulders now. I had tried to but he had started shaking all over. I knew that I would never hold a knife near him again, feeling terrible for making him that scared.

'Thank you Kaitlinn.' Zayn said. He sounded like an adult when he said it like that, even though he was just 13. He always used my full name, I'd gotten used to it by now. Nico was 11 but I knew he would never reach the same adulthood as Zayn had at 13. I felt sorry for him having to grow up this fast, but I knew how it felt too so I knew he didn't see it that way.

I smiled down at the boy, 'I've got something for you too, you know.'

His eyes showed the same excitement as Nico's and Kirra's had done, the excitement of a kid. I threw my bag on the table in the kitchen and went to my father's bed room. It had been moved from upstairs to down after he had been shot, wheelchairs didn't tend to go up the stairs easily.

It wasn't dark around the house, curtains were closed but they let through enough light to see things normally. At night we would turn off all the lights and the kids would head up to their mother's room. Other than being on the second floor, it also had heavier curtains, not letting light shine through and in that way not giving them away. I would be downstairs, guarding the place. Sometimes catch up on a bit of sleep with a small lantern lit.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Zayn following me. I shot him a small smile and gestured for him to sit down on the bed. I went to my dad's closet and picked up the box he still had left from his army time. It was wooden, several complex carvings in it that joined together into an eagle.

'This was my father's.' I told Zayn. He looked at it with wide eyes, interested. 'I know how much you want to fight, and I know your mother tells you you're too young. She might even be right..' I hesitated a second but then decided to go on. 'It's just that you need something to defend yourself with, anything. A gun would be too risky, especially with little Kirra around, but if she finds this she won't be able to open it.'

I pressed on a button on the top right corner, which was pretty much invisible to the naked eye, and the box popped open. What was revealed was a pocket knife, the same eagle on it only with color this time. Every color of the rainbow swerving together. I showed him how to open it, what else he could use it for and he listened intently, his eyes fixed on the weapon.

'Consider it your birthday present, I already know you can pick a lock with it.' I winked and he grinned sheepishly.

The first day he'd been in he found the tools to pick my dad's locked door, which was pretty amazing I have to admit. His mother though hadn't been all too happy about it after waking up and hearing. Little Kirra was a snitch, though she just wanted to tell her mother how proud she was of her brother so it doesn't really count.

Zayn looked up at me, his eyes big and a smile on his lips. 'Thank you so much Kaitlinn.' I smiled and was about to ruffle up his hair when the sudden blaring of sirens made me jump off the bed and frown.

'Go upstairs.' I told Zayn, and he complied begrudgingly. He knew however he couldn't help me, not with a knife, and the safest place would be up, he was smart that way.

I went to the window and pulled the curtains aside carefully, I couldn't see much but I could hear.

'This is the US army. We are here to help survivors get to safety. If anyone is out there, come out so we can help.' The words echoed loudly through the streets and I soon saw where it was coming from. An armored truck moving through the streets, a man wearing a soldier uniform was holding a megaphone in his hand. I cursed and closed the curtains.

'Stupid idiots.' I muttered, thinking of how the sound would probably attract walkers from miles away.