My Zombie Valentine Chapter 1: Genesis, a walking dead fanfic

MY ZOMBIE VALENTINE
By: Darkinyron

Summary: Surviving the zombie apocalypse isn't just about being a skilled shot and avoiding bites. It's also about defeating your own inner zombies, letting go of the past, and learning that the light switch really does go both ways.

. . . Have you ever wondered why Shane fell for Lori so hard and so fast? I mean, wouldn't you be a little creeped out if your husband's best friend was dropping L-bombs like 4 days after you hooked up with him? There's a hungry motivation behind every man's madness. While the walkers are ravenous for flesh, Shane is starving for a woman's love. You don't need to be dead to be a zombie. You just have to be hungry, dangerous, and out of your mind.

Pairings: Shane/Katharine (OC), Shane/Lori, Rick/Lori, 'n maybe a few others along the way . . .

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of the characters, places, etc. associated with it. It all belongs to Robert Kirkman. I only own my original characters and the words I've written here. I'm writing this for fun; no copyright infringement intended!

Author's Note: I've had this story brewing in my head since the middle of Season 1 and could not resist writing the idea down! This story will be loosely based off of the television series, but still follow it for the most part. I started writing this after the second episode of Season 2 so most of the significant differences you'll see will start to occur when the story's timing meets that point, since I have completed chapters that I wrote before I saw the rest of Season 2. Since the TV series varies so drastically from the comic books, I hope this won't bother everyone. The one major difference I have is that in my story, there is actually a virus that produces zombies, so only those who are bitten or scratched resurrect. I'm doing this because it's more "realistic" and medically explainable in my opinion; I was really disappointed when the TV show took that stereotypical route of everyone turning into zombies after they die.

This is not going to be one of those "Mary Sue" or "Gary Stu" stories. While it will delve into the soft sides, perfectionist ideals, and private wishes of the characters, their personalities, traits, conflicts, and typical actions will be maintained as we see them in the show.

Also, this story is rated 'M' for descriptive violence, language, zombie mealtime, and smutty adult/sexual situations that will show up in following chapters. ;)

ENJOY!

~ CHAPTER ONE ~

GENESIS

THE INCESSANT HEAT that beat down from the sky radiated off of the Georgian landscape, exacerbating the heaviness that lurked in the police environment following the previous day's shootout. Worry regarding the recovery of Rick Grimes was on everyone's mind, especially after his department learned that he had slipped into a coma following his surgery. Nobody knew why; his gunshot wound had been painful but not life threatening. The bullet and its fragments had been removed successfully and the damage repaired. But for reasons the physicians could not explain, the highly respected deputy that everyone in the department looked up to had gone comatose. Aside from his survival, the other concern on everyone's mind was whether or not Rick had been exposed to the mysterious sickness that had recently erupted in several of the nation's major cities, including Atlanta. All of the deputies knew that the hospital Rick was recovering in was now admitting patients who were trickling in with symptoms of what all the news stations were labelling an epidemic due to its rapid spread across the globe and terminal diagnosis.

Deputy Katharine Burke felt on edge in the passenger seat of her patrol car as she watched her partner, Deputy Jason Crandall, issue a speeding ticket to the middle-aged man they had just pulled over. Flashing red and blue flickered against her surroundings from the emergency lights above and drew her into a spacey trance which she easily succumbed to. Her mind was racing, elevating her stress level as well as her heart rate. She rubbed her tanned forehead and temples, trying to will the headache it caused to cease. A faceless voice came through the car's FM radio immediately following a song that she had not even paid attention to, beginning a fresh update on the spread of the virus. It reported that now, thirteen cases had appeared in different parts of Europe while seventeen had shown up in Tokyo, Japan. Hospitals were beginning to quarantine patients to prevent spread until the method of transmission could be uncovered. It advised listeners to stay home as much as possible, avoid contact with strangers and surfaces that were frequently touched by them, and to call their family doctor should they develop a fever and heavy cough. The deputy rolled her eyes, suspecting that the media was hyping this new disease up into something that it really wasn't. The media loved to terrify people into thinking that every new disease was destined to wipe out the human species. A prediction then sprung into her mind that the pharmaceutical companies would soon come up with a magical vaccine, which would cause the masses to flock to their local Rite Aid's and CVS's and vomit $50 a piece for a protective shot. The prophecy wasn't farfetched; it had happened numerous times in the past. The memories of H1N1 rearing its ugly head soon followed. Even her children's elementary school now forced all attendees to be shot up with a chicken pox vaccine before the age of five.

The opening of the driver's side door brought Deputy Burke out of her trance. Her dirty-blonde partner sat down next to her and sighed heavily. "That guy was an ass," he vented, wiping sweat from his brow. "Trying to argue that he wasn't going 75 in a 55. Bullshit."

"Don't they all?" Katharine asked with a distant voice. The long-haired brunette whose hair was neatly pulled back in a matching clip turned her head away from the other officer and gazed out the window as he tossed his clipboard onto the dash in front of her.

"Well, yeah. But . . . you ok?" he wondered, noticing her vacuous stare.

"Fine," Katharine muttered. "Just have a lot on my mind."

"We're all worried about Rick." Jason was clearly trying to sound comforting but failing miserably. "He's going to pull through."

"It's not just that," Katharine sighed. "I mean, of course I am worried about Rick. He's been my friend since academy. I've just been under a lot of stress lately."

"What's wrong, Kat?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

At that moment, Katharine's cell phone chimed and she yanked the device from her back pocket. An irritated huff was her only response to a text message she had received from Shane Walsh.

'Hey u, what u up 2?' it read.

Katharine deleted the message and replaced the phone as her partner radioed his call clearance into dispatch. She had nothing to say to Shane. All of her angry thoughts had manifested into rancorous words the evening before Shane had been involved in the shootout with Rick. Despite meaning those words at the time and experiencing a flash of disappointment that Rick had taken the bullet instead of Shane, she was beginning to wonder if she still meant any of it. So, due to her current state of confusion, she decided to treat the verbal wounds she had inflicted upon Shane with silence.

After the old truck that they had pulled over finally drove off, both the car's and the portable MARCS radios attached to the officers' belts crackled and a monotonous female voice came over the air to address specific officers. "Units 880 and 1633," it called. Once the individual deputies responded, the dispatcher continued. "Signal 37A and signal 21, possibly also a signal 22. 11538 Trenton Road. Came in via 911; reporting that an unknown individual is attacking the resident in the back yard of this address. Suspect is described as a white male with brown hair, six feet tall, slender, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that is saturated in what may be blood. Unknown if suspect is armed. Caller states that he is staggering and appears ill. EMS is en route and will be on standby."

Kat and Jason glanced at each other with smirks. "Damn drunks," Jason huffed.

"Glad we aren't being sent to it," Kat muttered.

"Is the caller a witness or the victim?" one of the responding officers asked over the radio.

"The caller is a neighbour who is still on the line with me," the 911 operator replied, and then paused as she was clearly speaking to the caller. "He states that the suspect has just bitten the resident's neck and is attempting to wrestle her to the ground. Weapons still unknown."

"Oh lord, now King County has vampires," Kat snickered.

"In broad daylight?"

"Well ya know, the alcohol protects them from the sun." The two deputies laughed.

They glanced at the computer screen of their in-car laptop that updated as the 911 operator entered call notes.

W/M CHASING NEIGHBOUR IN BACK YARD
TRYING TO GRAB HER
UNKNOWN IF ARMED
BLUE JEANS, WHITE TSHIRT
STAGGERING
POSSIBLY SIG 9
CALLER NEVER SEEN HIM BEFORE
BROWN HAIR, 6 FT, THIN
CALLER SEES A LOT OF BLOOD ON SUSPECT
POSSIBLE STAB WOUND ON SIDE
APPEARS VERY PALE AND ILL
SUSPECT BIT HER NECK
TRYING TO FIGHT HIM OFF
SUSPECT HIGHLY COMBATIVE

"Should we go to it?" Kat asked, clearing her voice so it could settle into a more serious tone.

"It's just one guy, they can handle him." Jason replied. "If they need us, they'll call for backup."

"For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this."

More notes popped up on the screen as the first responding officer called over the radio to indicate that he had arrived on scene.

VICTIM BLEEDING HEAVILY FROM NECK
RAN FROM SUSPECT INTO HOUSE
SUSPECT STILL OUTSIDE

"What the hell?" Kat asked with surprise.

"Just when you think you've seen it all."

"No shit. I've never . . ." she drifted off as her cell phone notified her of another incoming text message with the same sound as before. She opened it to find another text from Shane asking, 'U alive?'

"Oh my God I wish he'd just leave me alone!" Kat hissed before shoving her phone back into her pocket.

"What does he want?" Jason asked, knowing exactly who the text was from due to Kat's unique notification sound system.

"To get back together," she irately assumed. "He's so fucking annoying! What part of me breaking up with him doesn't he understand? The separation is killing him."

"He just saw you at roll call an hour and forty minutes ago."

"Oh I know, but that's too long for him."

"He was staring at you the whole time too. I think the sergeant noticed."

"I felt his laser eyes on the back of my head. Luckily my head didn't explode. Maybe that's where this damn headache came from."

Before Jason could produce a reaction to her sarcasm, Katharine's phone erupted with the muffled noise of Shane's ringtone. The sound became clear as she pulled it from her pocket and instructed the phone to ignore his call.

"Damn, he's blowing you up!" Jason chortled.

"I am so glad that you're my partner at work. I would be on suicide watch right now if I had to spend my shift in a patrol car with him." Her continuing sarcasm was evident through her clear irritation.

"So would I, probably. I don't know how Rick puts up with him. When did you guys break up?" Jason asked, keeping his green eyes focused on the road.

"Day before yesterday," Kat replied flatly. "I just couldn't take his clinginess anymore. He was getting way too possessive."

"Don't blame ya there."

The phone rang again a few minutes later, summoning an enraged expression to the deputy's face.

"Let me answer it," Jason commanded, holding his hand out.

"Umm, okay." She placed the vibrating electronic device into Jason's hand; he opened the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey man, can I talk to Kat?" Shane asked from the other end.

"No, she died." Jason said matter-of-factly before closing the phone. Kat burst out laughing.

"That was good," she chuckled. But the amusement was short lived as the phone immediately rang again. Kat set the phone to silent and placed it in one of the cruiser's cup holders. "See what I deal with?"

"Would you like to drive? It'll get your mind off of it."

"Sure."

After taking the wheel, Deputy Burke spun the marked Ford around and headed south. She sped up as if in a hurry.

"Where are we going?"

"My friend Lynn hasn't moved her car from its spot in like three days," Kat replied, keeping her brown eyes on the road. "It's not like her. She and her husband are always on the go. She's a nurse at the hospital and is always on-call. Mike's a full-time graduate student. It's got me concerned, especially since she hasn't replied to any of my phone calls or texts lately. We had plans to hang out this week. And there's been this red Jeep over there these past few days too that I've never seen before."

"You want to do a house check?" Jason asked. "You think something happened?"

"Yes to the house check. I don't know what's going on. I don't want to get myself all paranoid and jump to conclusions until I check it out."

"Fine with me."

Twelve minutes later, the two deputies arrived at a two story, faded red duplex that was in the process of getting a new roof. Kat guided the police car carefully onto the long, meandering stone driveway that connected the property to the road and viewed the condition of the home. Halfway up, the driveway split to lead to the individual sides of the duplex. She followed the path leading to the west side of the house, where the vehicles she had mentioned sat silently.

"Lawn hasn't been mowed," she observed. In some areas the grass was pushed into lighter patterns where the roofers had driven their vehicles through the yard earlier in the day. One of the company pickup trucks was parked on the other side of the duplex, awaiting the return of its owners who had all gone home to retire for the day. Beside it sat a rusty blue dumpster that was beginning to overflow with broken materials from the tear-off job.

"That Jeep has a flat tire," Jason noticed as they approached three vehicles which were parked neatly in the shade of a large willow tree. To the left of the ancient Jeep and facing the other direction were two brand new Toyotas—a white Solara and a grey Avalon. "Must've been sitting there awhile."

"Three days," Kat reminded him. "The Jeep's soft top was off when I first noticed it. It wasn't closed back up before the rain last night. You'd think the person would want to protect the interior from the rain."

They parked alongside the rusty old Jeep and stepped out, leaving the car running so its air conditioner could preserve the chill behind the wheel. "302 to headquarters," Jason called into his radio. When the dispatcher responded, he continued, "Myself and 238 will be out at 741 Highland Road, Apartment B on a signal 104."

Kat reached inside the Jeep and pressed her fingers tightly into one of its cloth seats, which oozed rainwater then reabsorbed it like a sponge after she released her grip. "Shade's keeping it from drying out in here. It's starting to smell."

"The Toyotas look all right," Jason called as he walked over from the cars. He came alongside his partner and looked inside the Jeep as well while Kat began to inspect the flat tire. "The Avalon is unlocked. This guy didn't even . . . "

His words were cut short when the sudden shriek of shattering glass echoed from somewhere behind the house. The startled deputies instinctively jolted their heads in the direction of the sound and ducked behind the Jeep, listening. The break's sound was forceful and deep, indicating that it had been produced by a very large and thick piece of glass being deliberately destroyed.

"It came from over there," Jason whispered, cocking his head and averting his eyes towards the Jeep itself, indicating that he meant from the other side of it.

"They have a sliding glass door back there," Katharine explained. "It sounded like it could have been that or their kitchen window breaking." She peered out from around the front bumper but saw nothing. She listened more but everything was silent.

"Something's wrong," Jason said, keeping his voice low. "I have a bad feeling about this." He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and noticed the same fearful look in his partner's eyes that he had no doubt was also in his.

"No shit. The birds have silenced," Kat observed, swallowing hard. "That's never a good sign." Both cops began to wonder just what was causing their animal instincts to flare up so strongly. Years of working for the sheriff's department had toughened their skin to the point that few things frightened, bothered, or astonished the officers anymore. Even the 911 calls where the problem was undetermined didn't faze them anymore. Yet whatever was on the other side of that house was managing to throw their fight or flight instincts into overdrive.

"Turn your radio down before it alerts them to our presence," Jason instructed quietly. They both lowered the volumes of their radios just to the point that they could still hear the traffic being broadcast between officers and dispatchers.

Just as the deputies were about to plan their approach, they were distracted by a soft shuffling sound and the gurgle of heavy, laboured breathing. It came from behind the house and as they listened, they could tell that something or someone was moving over the shattered glass, crushing it beneath their feet with muffled crackling noises. The two cops slowly peered over the hood of the Jeep and watched as a tall, redheaded male dressed in an orange university t-shirt and soiled plaid boxer shorts staggered over the broken glass and into his back yard, away from them, wearing only one untied sneaker and a loosened sock on the other foot. Though they could only see the back of the man, they could tell that his skin had adopted a hue far greyer than his natural fair skin colour. His hair was a greasy mess, and it was easy to conclude that the man had defecated due to the dark brown stain on his boxers.

"That's Mike Sommers," Kat whispered rapidly as she turned to Jason with wide brown eyes. "What the hell happened to him?"

"I'll go talk to him," Jason replied as he stood up. "Get on the radio and request EMS."

"Okay." Katharine sat back against the police car and began fiddling with the cord to her radio's speaker, which had become tangled. Just as she was about to cue up and speak, a frenzied wave of chatter erupted over the radio, originating from the scene where the drunken vampire man had chosen his latest victim. Through two panicked deputies attempting to speak over one another, Kat was able to conclude that an officer was down with some kind of injury that had been inflicted by the vampire man and that the shift sergeant was en route to the scene to assist.

"Sir!" Jason called sternly. He began walking in the direction of the redheaded man, who was about seventy feet away. "Hey! Sir!"

Responding to the officer's shout, the wobbly Mike Sommers ceased his drunken stagger and leaned back on his heels. His head began to flop about at unnatural angles as if his neck muscles had regressed to the strength of a newborn baby's. As Jason cautiously approached, Mike's ears finally focused on the direction that the cop's footsteps and voice were coming from. He leisurely spun to face him, almost falling over as his right foot nearly tripped over the left. The image that Jason was faced with stopped him dead in his tracks.

What was once a freckled face with green eyes was now a bloated mixture of purples and blacks surrounding two frosted blind orbs that were twitching in an effort to focus. The bloated bruise continued down the entire front of the man's body, visible beneath his clothes as blood and other excrements began to seep through. Partially hidden beneath Mike's left sleeve was what appeared to be a bite wound of some sort with a significant amount of bicep missing. A few shards of glass were embedded in the man's swollen knuckles and arms where unnaturally thick blood was beginning to ooze. The same dark goo glistened around the zombie's mouth as the caked, dried blood from his last meal was hydrated by the fresh flow of rotting slobber. As the corpse stood there studying him, the wind was kind enough to give Jason a whiff of Mike Sommers' decomposing stench and motivate his frozen mouth and body to move.

Just as Jason felt the urge to vomit, the zombified Mike began to stagger towards him, struggling to keep his balance. Jason instinctively backed up and raised his hand in front of him. "Sir! Stop! Stay where you are!" he called, voice shaking with terror. But Mike didn't comprehend the command and instead kept wobbling quickly towards him. As he approached, Jason heard his laboured gurgling advance to a strained animalistic growl that rattled through his salivating mouth, sending beads of drool spraying in front of him.

"P-put your hands up!" Jason stuttered. "Mr. Sommers, d-don't move!" But the zombie just kept coming and, whether through panic or impulse, Jason's hand fell over his taser gun and yanked it from its holster. "Don't move, or I'll tase you!" he shouted desperately, raising the defensive weapon to eye level. The dead man was mere feet away when Jason felt his fingers engage the electrified prongs. As if in slow motion, Mike Sommers fell backwards onto the ground as the taser's coiling strings of metal clamped into his chest like a bloodthirsty leech and zapped him. The zombie curled into a fetal position and convulsed violently against the attack. The taser's clicking hiss echoed over the flatlands and was soon replaced by the sound of Kat's feet running up behind him.

"What's going on?" she demanded just as the disease-ridden human's movements ceased.

"He came at me!" Jason huffed defensively. "Didn't you see him?"

Kat's eyes shifted to the fallen zombie whose back was once again turned to them. Jason maintained the taser gun's position in front of him and guardedly approached Mike, ready to shock him again should he stand up. He noticed that both of the taser's probes had embedded into Mike's bloodied shirt and bruised skin, where they maintained a firm grip beneath the zombie's arms.

"Mike?" Kat called softly as she approached. She felt a tug of sorrow inside when her electrocuted friend didn't respond, but it was quickly drowned out by disbelief upon seeing the horrifying levels of necrosis up-close. She cautiously knelt behind the zombie, who was still curled up into a motionless fetal position and reached her hand towards him to check for a pulse.

"Don't touch him!" Jason hissed. "You don't know what he has."

Kat pulled her hand away but continued to lean over Mike's body, checking for any visible signs of life. "He's not breathing. Get me a mask, I need to do CPR." Jason could hear the sadness in her voice.

"I don't have one in my car. Let EMS check for vitals when they get here. They will have a better idea about what's wrong with him. It's not a good idea for us to touch him. We don't know if he's contagious or not."

"They're coming from Atlanta!" Kat snapped angrily. "That's a good twenty or so minutes away! It's our duty, Deputy. He's going to die!"

"I think he already is dead, Kat."

"You killed him! Mike was my friend, and you killed him!"

Before Jason could counter the accusation, Mike Sommers gasped in a gurgling breath of air and began to push himself up with his swollen, black-and-blue arm. The two cops froze as he struggled to get up on his feet and maintain balance like a newborn gazelle. He hobbled around and glared blindly at them, letting out an agitated, moaning snarl that rumbled up into his throat over mucous membranes that were trying to settle with rigor mortis. His movements kicked up a fresh wave of decomposing stench, which was sucked up into the deputies' nostrils as they slowly backed away from the undead redhead.

Deputy Crandall fired the taser gun again as Katharine distanced herself several steps behind him. Mike stumbled to the side but managed to remain standing as his muscles were forced to contract again. He balanced anew just as the five second stun expired then began stomping towards them in a provoked, hungry rage. Jason fired a third time then dropped the weapon as the zombie came too close for his comfort. He backed up and yelped as he tripped awkwardly over the bumper and hood of Mike's white Solara, then face-planted against the pavement. He whipped around and looked up to see the drooling zombie leaning over him, his teeth bloody and bared. He braced himself to wrestle the creature off, but just as Mike began clawing at his uniform, his head was thrown backwards as a deep bang echoed from the barrel of Kat's revolver. The force of the .38 ripping through Mike's skull yanked his arms away from the grounded police officer, who watched his opponent's corpse slam into the pavement with a heavy, nauseating thud as globs of brain matter rained several metres over the pavement.

"Are you all right?" Katharine asked. She holstered her weapon and helped her partner stand up.

"Yeah," Jason breathed. "He . . ."

"What the fuck is going on out here?" A voice called from the far end of the house. The deputies turned to see a young man stepping out onto his front porch from the other end of the duplex.

"Go back into your house, Sir," Jason ordered.

"But what the fuck is going on? I heard a gunshot!" the man demanded, straining his neck to get a look around the cars.

"Sir, we will be over to speak with you shortly," Jason shouted. "For your own safety, I need you to go inside and lock your doors."

The brown-haired man nodded and went back inside. Jason watched until he heard the front door's deadbolt click and the rickety screen door of Apartment A hiss shut completely.

"Oh my God," Kat called softly. "I killed him."

Jason walked over to his partner, who was kneeling beside her now permanently deceased friend. One of her hands was covering her mouth as she examined what she had done. Jason knelt beside her and watched as a pool of black blood and brain matter spread beneath Mike's shattered skull. His unseeing eyes stared up into the sky blankly, clouded with disease and blindness.

"I'm so sorry," Jason said, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder. "You did what you had to do, Kat. He was out of his mind."

"He was sick!" Kat snapped. "I just killed a man who was sick! You don't kill people because they're sick. Mike would never hurt anyone. He didn't mean to do this!"

"Kat, I know he didn't." Jason's comforting voice did little to settle his fellow officer. "Sometimes illnesses make people do things that they don't want to do."

"That doesn't make it okay to kill them! I just killed him! I just killed my friend!"

"He was too far gone, Kat. Look at him. He was suffering. He was going to kill me. You did the right thing by protecting me. Thank you."

Kat wiped a solitary tear that was trickling from her eye. "Get me a pair of gloves."

"Okay." Jason stood and walked to his patrol car. He retrieved two pairs of rubber gloves from his trunk, returned, and handed a pair to Kat.

"Where is that ambulance?" Kat asked forlornly, almost to nobody in particular as she slipped her hands into the gloves.

Jason suddenly remembered his radio and spoke into it, realising he should have done it several minutes ago. "302 to headquarters," he called sternly, allowing his voice to bare a minor hint of stress. When the dispatcher acknowledged him, he continued. "Shots fired. Requesting backup. One of the residents came out of the house and attempted to attack us. He was extremely ill. I repeat, shots fired and we have a man down and deceased."

"Clear," the dispatcher replied with a verbal indication of surprise. "302, are you or 238 injured?"

"No, but we have not yet been inside the house," Jason answered.

"1835," the dispatcher called to the shift's sergeant. When the superior acknowledged the request, she continued. "I need you to clear from Trenton Road. Signal 89 for 302 and 238 at 741 Highland Road, Apartment B."

"2347 to headquarters," another male voice spoke into the radio before 1835 could confirm the traffic. Kat froze as Shane Walsh's voice resonated from her earpiece. "I can take that for the sergeant. I'm about two miles out from Highland."

"Clear," the dispatcher said simply. "1835, you can disregard."

"What's the status of that ambulance?" Jason asked the dispatcher. He heard the sound of a siren firing up in the distance.

"Atlanta EMS is sending a squad out to your location. They advised that they are backed up with calls but will be out as soon as possible. I have instructed them to stage. All of MedCorp and King County EMS squads are out on runs."

"Clear." Jason then turned back to Kat. "That's odd. Must be that disease that's going around."

Kat acted as if she didn't even hear him.

"Shane's coming."

Her ears perked up and she glared. "Just what I need." She found it a little too convenient that Shane just happened to be two miles away from them in a county so vast.

Deputy Crandall knelt beside her again. "What happened to him? I've never seen anything like this before. It's like he's got gangrene all over his body."

"It's like he was already dead." Katharine was staring at the corpse in front of her with a look of absolute horror and disbelief spread over her face.

"Smells like he's already decomposing." Jason stuffed his nose into the inside of his elbow and suppressed the urge to vomit.

"Look at him. He looks necrotic," Katharine observed with a trembling, sad voice. "This bruise on his front side and face . . . This is what you see when blood pools after the heart stops."

"That's impossible. He would've had to go through livor mortis for that to happen."

"I know."

The wailing siren drew nearer and abruptly ceased as Shane Walsh pulled into the driveway of the duplex. He sped up to his co-workers and radioed his arrival in to dispatch. Jason rose and went to meet him.

"You guys ok?" Shane asked as he emerged from the car. It was odd seeing the empty seat beside him that was usually occupied by Rick Grimes.

"Yeah," Jason replied. "We have it under control for the moment. We don't know what's inside but we know it isn't going to be pretty." He lowered his voice so Katharine couldn't hear. "I assume we're going to find the wife dead inside."

Shane nodded. "Was it you that fired?"

"No, it was Kat."

Shane stepped around Jason and looked over at Katharine with an expression of concern. "You okay, Kat?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. She stood up and went to the open trunk of her patrol car.

"Tried to call ya earlier," Shane snickered, thinking he could lighten the mood. "Your buddy Jay here told me you was dead!"

"I am," Kat snapped as she pulled a blanket from the trunk.

"Really? I didn't know dead people walked 'n talked 'n shot people!"

"Well then I'm not your typical dead person, am I, asshole?"

"Whoa, girl, no need for insults."

"I just shot my friend!" The piercing look Kat directed at Shane almost gave him chills. "And you have the audacity to come out here and joke around with me?"

"You're right," Shane sighed, half-heartedly meaning it. "Sorry."

Kat was once again stooping by the body of Mike Sommers when Shane and Jason came up to her.

"I'm so sorry Mike," Kat was saying. "I didn't want to do this." She sniffled a bit, but held back her tears. Jason and Shane joined her on the other side of the body and removed their hats while Kat addressed her fallen friend. "I don't know what happened to you, but I'm sorry you had to go like this. You didn't deserve this. You were a good friend and I know you didn't mean to attack Deputy Crandall. I'm sure he isn't mad at you." She looked up at Jason for input.

"I'm not mad," Jason said softly. "He was sick. I can't blame him."

Katharine nodded her thanks. She then pressed her gloved hands gently against Mike's eyelids and rubbed them over his staring eyes, then carefully pushed his chin up until she heard his teeth click together. She held her hands in place for several moments to ensure that his eyes and mouth would remain closed and looked up at the sky. "Father, in Your wisdom You have called Your servant, Mike Sommers, out of this world. Release him from the bonds of sin, and welcome him into Your Presence, so that he may enjoy eternal light and peace and be raised up in glory with all Your saints. Amen."

"Amen," Jason echoed. Shane simply gaped stupidly at the horrifying sight in front of him, his mouth moving but unable to vocalise the hundreds of questions that were darting around in his mind. The look of incredulity spread across his face was apparent.

"Mike, I'm sorry again," Kat whined, still forcing her tears back. "Please forgive me. May you rest in peace now that your suffering has ended." With her gloved thumb, she gently motioned an invisible cross over Mike's forehead before ending her eulogy.

"Rest in peace, Mr. Sommers," Jason said respectfully.

Deputy Burke then opened the blanket and covered her friend's body, tucking it around him so it wouldn't blow away. She stood, wiped her contaminated gloves on a corner of the blanket, and took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever still waited inside Mike's house.

"Hey," Shane said softly. He walked up to Kat and wrapped his muscular arms around her, pulling her close. "I'm sorry. It's going to be okay."

Kat tensed against the hug but accepted it. The urge to cry suddenly welled up in her throat with a newfound strength and she swallowed hard several times in an attempt to suppress it. Shane ran his open hands up and down her back for a few minutes to console her. Eventually, she relaxed against Shane's embrace and rested her pounding head against his chest, taking comfort from the sound of his beating heart that had put her to sleep countless nights over the past few years. For a brief moment she almost wished she were once again at home with him, cuddling with him on her couch while they watched stand-ups on Comedy Central into the late hours of the night. But she refused to admit that after only two days she was already missing him. She planned to commit the contempt she felt for Shane, though subconsciously her heart and mind knew that in time the sinister feelings would eventually dissipate.

"I'll be okay," Kat assured confidently.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, we need to go check on Lynn. She's Mike's wife."

"Do you want Jason and me to do it?"

"No, I'll go with you. I'll be okay. Promise." Kat pulled away from her ex-boyfriend's embrace and rubbed the moisture from her eyes. "Let's go around the back and check out that broken glass."

Jason pointed to the far side of the house, relieved that the brief mushy moment was over. "I'm going to walk around the far side and make sure everything's clear from the long way. You two approach from this end so each side of the door is covered."

Shane and Kat both nodded.

"Hey," Shane whispered once Deputy Crandall was out of earshot. A sudden feeling of uncertainty crept through him as he instinctively sensed the danger that the cops were about to come face-to-face with.

Kat glared at him as she walked toward her assigned post. "What?"

"I still love you," Shane said. He stopped her right as she was about to turn the corner around the house and looked her directly in the eyes, softening his expression so she could see past his tough exterior and into the windows of his soul. "'N I want you to know I'm here for you. I know this hurts. But I'm here, and I always will be. Before we go in there, I want you to know that."

Before Katharine even had a chance to lash out a verbal spite or physically resist, Shane cupped her face in his hands and pulled her into a gentle yet zealous kiss, fearful that it would be the last one they would ever share.

So, what do you guys think so far? Kind of a slow start, I know, but it was necessary to get the ball rolling. This chapter was originally double the length but I cut it in half just to be evil! I currently have six chapters (including the other half of this, which will be Chapter 2) of this story written already, with a seventh in progress, and I will continue to write/update **IF** I get reviews. SO REVIEW IF YOU WANT MORE! Please? :)

Readers, do you have any suggestions, ideas, comments, or critiques? Pairings you'd like to see? Characters you would like to have zombified or just flat out eaten alive? Suggest away since eventually this story is going to completely spin off in its own direction from the TV show! Let me know in your reviews how graphic you want stuff to get later on and any suggestions or ideas you may have. I would love to hear them. Also, I am an author who has been away from the world of writing since 2008. I am writing this story as practice to get myself back in the groove, so I ask that you please CRITIQUE my writing if possible. Thank you!