AN: So I'm starting this one. I've been picking at it for some time now. It's a ZA fic. It starts before Season 1 and it will go somewhat with the show (to a point), but I'm going to be doing my own thing.
I started thinking about it some time back when someone asked me to consider writing a story where the Dixon brothers found my OC Alice before they ever met the Atlanta group. The person (sorry, I don't remember who) wanted it to be a Daryl/Alice fic…but they forgot one little tidbit of information about Alice.
Still, the idea bled into this idea. It's something a "rewrite" I guess. I'm taking a lot of license, so characters will be a little different to fit the world I'm building and the plot may resemble that from the show at times, but I'm going to be taking a lot of license there too. This is just for fun. It might take a little bit to get going, but I think it could be fun.
It will eventually be a Caryl fic, but that's going to take a little bit.
If it needs to be said, I don't own anything from the Walking Dead. All I own are original characters and plot lines.
If you decide to read, I hope you enjoy!
Like everyone, I love reviews, so let me know what you think!
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"I'm tellin' you," Daryl growled at his older brother, Merle, keeping his voice just low enough that they wouldn't wreck their chances of eating anything that night besides the one runty ass little raccoon that had stumbled across their path not too long after they'd left the truck and bike to go in search of something to eat, "shit gets worse after dark…we'd best be findin' a place to pitch a tent 'fore long."
Hell had broken loose in Georgia and there was no other way to look at it.
When they'd first started seeing the reports on the news, Merle and Daryl both had turned their heads and looked in the other direction.
Some asshole showed up, chewed the face off another asshole. Some dickhead tore a chunk out of another. Some other asshole terrorized a free clinic.
But what all the reports had in common was that nobody knew a damn thing about what the hell was going on. At first they'd said it was some kind of new designer drug or some shit gone wrong. Neither of the Dixons had found that too hard to believe given the fact that they'd seen some people messed up on a good bit of shit. It wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination to think that someone had come up with yet another chemical failure that had driven someone mad enough that they might kill or even eat someone else.
Then the reports had started saying that the problem was some kind of virus. It was like some kind of superflu like the ones that birds and mosquitos and shit spread around like crazy and everyone passed to everyone else. It was highly contagious and apparently fried the person's brain to the point that they were completely unrecognizable.
And then shit had gotten even weirder. Because then they'd started saying that they were trapped in some kind of Night of the Living Dead shit and that corpses were walking around just the same as when they were alive…but they were blood thirsty and flesh hungry.
The only good thing about it was that all the reports came from places that didn't mean a thing to Daryl, and they meant even less to Merle.
The first damn time Daryl had seen one of the living sacks of rotting flesh in person, though, he'd been damn near stunned enough to get himself torn up in the process. He'd been driving home from picking his brother up from doing another night's stint in jail, thanks to his inability to know how to keep his mouth shut when he drank too damn much, and there had been cars pulled off the side of the road and people running around like headless chickens.
Daryl had gotten out of the truck to find out what the hell was going on and to clear the way for himself, not exactly thinking that hitting anyone…no matter how accidental because of their behavior…was going to go over well for him in court, his brother being so well known and such by the local law enforcement.
When he'd seen what the hell was going on, though, he'd been just as stunned as everyone running around losing their shit. There were probably twenty people that had come from the pile of now empty cars and three of them were these very same people…or better, creatures…that the news had been yacking about. And they were busy…with an image that was scalded into Daryl's brain forever…eating the two small kids of one of the families that had spilled out the cars while the helpless parents ran around screaming for help when no one could have offered them a damn thing at that point.
Daryl had stood there, not knowing what to do, until one of the things finished with the kid it had all but devoured completely and suddenly turned its attention to all the rest of the action going on around it.
And Daryl had looked straight at it and known that whether or not it had ever been a person before, it wasn't a person now…and it didn't matter to him if it was drugs or a virus…or some kind of sick joke from the universe.
When it had come in his direction, grunting and growling, gnashing its teeth at him, he'd backed up in a hurry toward his truck, not knowing what else to do, and damn near tripped over his shoelace. His brother had been passed the hell out and the people around him…another couple being torn up at the moment…weren't doing anything but waiting their turn.
So he'd gotten the gun out of the truck as quickly as he could and shot the thing…four times in the chest and it never stopped. Finally he'd blown the fucker's brains out and it had dropped like a lead balloon in front of him, probably only moments before making him just another sad ass statistic on the news these days.
Daryl had hauled ass out of there, not too ashamed to say he'd come closer that day to pissing his pants than he had within the span of his memory, and he'd called the cops…but the fuckers didn't believe him and threatened to send an officer out there after him, thinking he had gotten into some of Merle's shit.
And he didn't wait around to see if it ended up on the news.
Merle and Daryl had packed up their shit, not that there was a lot of it to take with them, and they'd taken to the woods. These creatures seemed to be living in the city and whatever it was causing the problem seemed to be centered there…but it was drifting farther out.
So their solution had been to get even farther out. Hit the woods. Get the hell away from people and get the hell away from the animated corpses until the air cleared and it was safe again…if it was ever safe again.
And so far, they'd been doing pretty decent. They went hungry sometimes and they went without sleep pretty often, or at least Daryl did, but they were doing pretty decent. There were certainly others that Daryl imagined were doing a hell of a lot worse.
They'd seen more and more of the damned things in the woods since they'd been out there, but they hadn't gotten torn to shreds yet and Daryl was inclined to believe that was about the best possible outcome they could expect. As long as they ran into the things from time to time, they knew that the government…or the army…or the damn boy scouts or whoever was supposed to clean this mess up hadn't gotten around to it and they ventured a little deeper into the woods…
Currently they were somewhere outside Atlanta, having travelled a good damn distance around Georgia to end up there, and the appearances of the corpses were getting more and more frequent. Daryl assumed they were trickling out from the city…but that just meant they'd have to be a little more careful to avoid them.
They weren't in any real hurry to get anywhere though. They didn't have anywhere to go really and they didn't have much of anything to their names…and they could live off the land pretty much indefinitely.
The only thing Merle was worried about, as far as Daryl could tell, was running out of the drugs that he cherished so damn much…and Daryl couldn't wait for that to happen.
Merle with DTs was a living hell…but Merle strung out was worse. And when he was strung out it was putting Daryl through hell to pull his ass along and handle however many of the corpses they might run into…something he couldn't keep up too long if they were going to keep dribbling into the woods from Atlanta.
At least tonight Merle was somewhat in his right mind. He'd taken at least a hit of something…but he wasn't wasted like he had been.
"Sleep in the damn truck," Merle said. "Unless you stayin' up tonight…I ain't fuckin' doin' it."
"I stayed up last night, Merle," Daryl growled. "An' the damn night before that. Your worthless ass's been passed out for the past five or six nights…you gotta straighten the fuck out you don't wanna get both of us killed."
Merle chuckled.
He thought this shit was funny. He thought this whole damn thing was like some kind of game. He walked around in his strung out state talking about bullshit that Daryl couldn't even understand about how the hell the would take over the world now that all this had gone down.
But even if they did take over the world at this point, it looked like they'd be the proud damn rulers of a steaming pile of shit…much like they'd always been.
"Cool ya damn jets, lil' brother," Merle said. "Sleep in the damn truck tonight…I'll watch out for the damn dogs walkin' around…let you curl up with ya damn blanky an' sleep…"
Daryl growled to himself and rolled his eyes.
If the corpses wandering around didn't kill his brother before he ran out of drugs, Daryl might very well do the honors for them.
"Just shut up, Merle," Daryl growled. "That coon ain't gonna hardly feed one a' us an' we ain't got too damn much food left…oughta try ta find some 'fore long."
"You too damn spoiled, boy," Merle said. "That's what'cha damn problem is. Ain't got no reason ta be eatin' outta cans an' shit…got all we need right out here…we livin' like kings…uh huh…"
"Like kings gnawin' on a half cooked, sickly lookin' damn coon," Daryl growled. "World's gone ta shit, Merle…you'd know that if you come out from under ya damn meth cloud for a minute…"
"Only reason this world's gone ta shit is 'cause a' your damn attitude," Merle mused. "An' the fact I'm stuck out here with your ass…ain't seen a piece a' tail in who the hell knows how damn long…that's what the hell we need ta be lookin' for lil' brother…fuck lookin' for cans a' pork'n beans."
Merle laughed at himself. Merle always found himself amusing…especially when Daryl didn't find him quite so charming.
When the yelling rang out, Daryl stopped in his tracks. It was a sound that he hadn't heard in some time. It was the sound of people yelling…the dead things, whatever they were, didn't yell.
"What the hell is that?" Daryl asked. "Sounds like someone's in trouble…"
"Sounds like somethin' ain't none a' our damn business," Merle said.
When the yells rang out again, there was undeniably the sound of a woman's voice among the din and Merle suddenly got something of a smile on his face.
Pussy changed Merle's tune in almost any situation.
Daryl swung his crossbow down and started toward the sound, not even having to ask if Merle was behind him…because he knew that he was, not that he'd likely be too much help if he was too messed up to shoot straight.
When they found the source of the noise, though, Daryl didn't know how much help either one of them would be…because the people there were mostly using their last breaths to yell and they'd already learned there wasn't any saving someone if the sorry asshole already got bit by one of these things.