Author's Note: This is my first story I've ever published so please review. I apologize if this story is not good. Hopefully, you enjoy this story. And I don't own The Walking Dead.
John's coat felt like paper against the morning's icy breeze. Damn winter, John thought while watching the mindless eaters roaming in the courtyard aimlessly, looking for their next meal. "Damn, it's too cold! Better head in before I freeze to death," John said as he entered inside. As soon as the door closed, his pit bull lunged at him. " Whoa Rooker! Get off of me!" The dog got off but not before ambushing his master with sloppy wet licks. Wiping his face, he smiled. They knew each other for only a month ago but they got along so well. Rooker simply sat and wagged his tail. John got on the cot he after the outbreak. His pal jumped on after John got settled. Slowly, the teenager fell asleep with the thought of his life before the outbreak happened. But he knew that life would only exist in his mind. He knew that he'd never have that life ever again.
The boy woke to Rooker barking furiously and pawing at the door. Looking at the sky, he realized he might have only got an hour of sleep. " What, Rooker," he asked the dog as he walked towards one of the windows. "People! And they're fighting those freaks" Though there were not a lot of zombies, the teen felt the need to help them. Quickly, John got his Taurus PT99 SS and knife. After telling the pit bull to stay put, he stepped out and climbed down onto the dying grass. The juvenile ran across the yard and starting shooting at the walking dead. Just as the last one was finished off, John saw four men and a boy, a little younger than himself, close in on him, pointing their weapons at him.
" Who are you? What are you doing here," Rick stated as he pointed his pistol. "Hey. I just helped your asses," John replied, his hand still on the pistol. John added, " Besides, I should be asking you the same questions." John was about to point the pistol at Rick but then Carl pistol-whipped him. "Answer him," said the little boy. John stared at the boy and replied," My dog and I live here. In that cell block. I'll let in my cell block but I gotta do something." Briskly, John set free his dog and headed towards the strangers. Now four women and an elderly man joined them. "Don't worry. He is friendly and will only bite the zombies," John said as he led them to his home.
After they made sure they were no walkers inside, the new group settled. "By the way, my name is John. John Wilson," he said as he passed out blankets and food for everyone. "My name's Rick. That's Lori, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Beth, Hershel, Carol and Daryl," the former cop said as he pointed to each member. John stared at Daryl. Daryl noticed and commanded, " Why the fuck are you staring like that? Ya got a problem with my face?" The bold boy shook his head and replied, "I know your face from somewhere. Can you tell me your last name?" The hunter at first refused to respond, but finally whispered "Dixon." At that moment, John smiled and shook his head. "What, something funny 'bout my name," Daryl asked with rage. Finally, John commented, "I don't believe it! Who knew? Who knew that I would meet my best friend's little brother? Speaking of the bastard, where's Merle?"
Now everybody is concerned. The thought of how a hotheaded, racist, sexist redneck and this boy would know each other knew each other was on everyone's minds. John stood there, ready for their answer but saw Lori and Carl yawn. Their faces were covered with extreme exhaustion, especially Lori. Her stomach looks like it will explode. But he wasn't the only one who noticed the fatigue. Rick was also watching them. "You guys should get some sleep. It's getting late," John, said, now glancing at the window. The moon shone through, its rays hitting the cells. As they got up, John explained the cells, "Okay, there are eleven cells. Five of them are packed with supplies that I'll show you guys later tomorrow. Go ahead and choose your beds. There are two beds inside so you want you can share." One by one, they got their roommates and settled in their cells. Grabbing a bed from one of the empty cells and dragging it to the perch, Daryl muttered, " I ain't no goddamn animal. I'm not sleeping in a fucking cage." Settling into bed, John thought about Merle, his only true friend. " We'll meet again. I swear we will," John whispered. Soon, sleep took over him. Vivid memories of happiness filling his head. For the first time since the outbreak, John felt happy and safe.