So this is the beginning of our story, there are two of us co-writing it. The story takes place in a slightly alternate universe, assuming that life goes on once the walkers start to thin out. We wanted the story to be different, and neither of us had read anything like this before. We start out in the future and then go back to the time period when the show takes place. So let us know what you think, we love constructive feedback and ideas! - Cori
Forward: The Miranda Safe Zone
Miranda: a name of Latin origin, meaning worthy of admiration, respect, or awe.
Standing just outside the gates of Fort Miranda didn't exactly fill passersby with awe. Miranda was a small settlement nestled on about four square miles of land and was home to less than 250 survivors. It was surrounded by an old fashioned stockade fence made of thick logs.
Once inside it was a humble town, consisting mostly of log cabins for homes, albeit some more elaborate than others. The few official buildings including: a sheriff's office, school, post office, a market, a medical clinic, and an inn.
While the main danger from the walkers had ended years ago, the world had never quit returned to the way it had been before the wildfire outbreak. The "end of the world" had changed people; some had shown their true colors during the outbreak and had maintained their survival of the fittest attitude long after it was warranted.
Others had been scarred by losses during the outbreak and preferred to continue with the nomadic lifestyle, never wanting to be tied down anywhere or get too attached to people.
Several small, well-fortified towns had begun forming throughout the former United States within a couple years of the main outbreak; some new, some in the ruins of smaller existing towns. Most towns' population never rose above a few hundred, the memories of the big cities and how quickly they had been overrun still fresh in people's minds.
Now, about ten years after the initial outbreak, life went on. Most towns had some form of electricity, although it was reserved for the more important uses and in some places was more rudimentary than others.
Cars and other vehicles where a thing of the past for the most part, fuel supplies having run out long ago.
Livestock was a valuable commodity, and most towns fought to protect and maintain what livestock they could find.
A large portion of the survivors maintained the belief that the human race had been out of control and that wildfire had been the result. A return to the basics and a simpler lifestyle had been one of the results.
Fort Miranda or the Miranda Safe Zone as it was known in the beginning, had been one of the first towns to form and was still a main stop on trade routes and for travelers. The Matthews family belonged to the second category; they were just passing through and had decided to stay at the Firefly Inn located in Miranda.
William Matthews walked into the Firefly just before sunset to find the inn keeper, a man who was probably in his mid to late thirties, sweeping the floor of an empty dining room.
"Hello," He said softly, weary from a long journey.
"Hi there! Just dinner or are you looking for a room?" The inn keeper asked cheerfully.
Bill smiled at him, "Both, and my family will be joining me shortly."
The inn keeper smiled and turned toward the direction of the kitchen, "Avery!"
Moments later a young boy who couldn't have been more than eight years old appeared from the kitchen. Upon seeing a stranger he wiped his hands on his shirt and smoothed his blond hair back, "Yes Uncle Merrill?"
"Show this man to one of the empty rooms," The inn keeper instructed the young boy.
Avery turned back to Bill, studying him with the bluest eyes the older man had ever seen before looking back at the inn keeper, "All the rooms are empty Uncle Merrill."
The inn keeper chuckled before sending his nephew and the stranger off.
Later that evening Bill and his family were sitting around one of the long tables with the inn keeper. Bill's wife Ruby was sitting by his side, her long greying hair pulled up into a tight bun. Their son Logan and his wife Joy were sitting across the table, taking turns holding their baby daughter Riley so that they could both have a chance to eat.
"Sorry you'll have to suffer through my cooking, my wife usually handles the kitchen but she is staying with a friend of hers who just had a baby," Uncle Merrill said from his spot at the head of the table.
Joy chuckled, "Your cooking is just fine. So Mr. Merrill, the lady at the market said you were with the group that founded Miranda."
"Yes I was," He said with a smile, "We've been here for… eight and a half years now."
Logan sighed and bounced his daughter, "Must be nice. Most other settlements didn't form that early, what made you decide to settle then? And what made you decide to settle here?"
Uncle Merrill smiled, "That my friends is a long story."
Bill leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms, "We are planning on resting here a couple of days, and we've got nothing but time."
"Alright," The inn keeper thought for a moment, "Like most good stories it starts with a beautiful woman…"