Author's note

I do not own the Walking Dead, but I do own my OC. Please don't steal her I worked hard on making her. I hope y'all love the chapter! Just so y'all know, I will mostly update every two weeks. I hope y'all will take the time to review. I would LOVE some feedback! Thanks for reading my fan-fiction! =)

Chapter 1

I was never to type of girl who would hide, weep, and lose themselves during a frightening time, but there I was, hiding, and trying not to cry with a dagger griped tightly in my hands. I had gone through all the supplies when I heard the noise. It was small so I didn't worry about it at first. As the moments ticked by, I began to hear voices outside the old store's walls. I couldn't make out what they were saying over the loud beating of my heart. People are bad news. I can't let them find me. I can't.

After eyeing the store, I ducked under an old desk and pulled out my dagger. It had a swilling fire design engraved into the wood handle that continued to the sharp medal of the blade. I sat completely still, barely allowing myself to breathe. My eyes slowly slide shut as I use my sense of hearing to track the people as they search the old store. I hear a gruff voice call an all clear call and the two people gather in the room. I can see their feet from where I'm hiding.

"Did ya find anything?" the gruff voice says.

"No Daryl. I didn't, but it looks like someone has lived here," a woman's voice says. "I found some things in the upper level that weren't covered in dust. It wasn't anything we needed, just some books, drawings, and pictures."

"It's fine Michonne, let's move out," Daryl's voice is quiet. Can this be Daryl Dixon? Is this that man who lived just down the road from me, before? While I'm deep in thought, I slip up. My hand falls, causing my knife the scrape the floor with a loud sound. Before I can even begin to worry about the noise, a long sharp sword finds its tip on my neck.

"Come out. Move slowly and don't try anything funny unless you want your head rolling cross the floor." I do as she tells me to do, and slowly move to stand in front of the woman. She still has her long sword resting on my neck. "You're just a kid." I let my eyes meet hers for just a moment then I move to look at the ground. Her sword moves from my neck and I watch as she puts it in a holder on her back. Michonne and Daryl share a quick glance before turning to me.

"How many walkers ya killed?" Daryl asks me. I look up, meeting his eyes. That's when I know. This is Daryl Dixon. The redneck man with a messed up brother named Merle. They used to live down the road from me… before.

"I didn't keep count," I say my voice horse from not talking in months.

"How many people have you killed?" asks Michonne.

"Just one, I only killed one person."

"Why?" Daryl asks.

"He tried to… to… h-hurt someone… someone I loved," I stumble, my voice cracking. Out of the corner of my eye I see Daryl and Michonne share another look.

"Do you want to come back with us? We have food, water, and we're safe from the walkers. We live in a prison a little ways north from here."

"Are y'all sure?" I ask. When they both nod I say, "Ok I'll come just let me pack my things."

I head to the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I make it to the top, I begin to toss my things into my bag. My hand pauses over a picture of my broken family, and the thought of my maw and Bells brings tears to my eyes. Come on, Faith. You can't do this now, you need to hurry and leave. I quickly look away and gently place the frame in my bag under some of my clothes. I run about the room grabbing everything I own now days and tossing them in. I'm done packing in about five minutes, and walk outside into the hot summer air.

Daryl is standing watch outside the van with his crossbow, while Michonne is waiting in the driver's seat. The van is brown with dirt covering it and blood on the wheels. There is no way to tell if the blood is from a walker or a human. Daryl looks up at me and his eyes land on the bow on my back. I had the bow back before this all started. I had used it to hunt.

"Ya ready to go, girl," Daryl says breaking me from my trance. I scowl at him, which makes him grin.

"My names not girl, its Faith, ya got that Dixon." His eyes widen.

"Do I know you?"

"Yep, ya only lived down the road from me my whole life." I watch as his face fills with knowing and he kicks the dirt.

"Sorry ya just look so different, now. So how old are ya, anyways?"

"I'm fifteen."

"Are you two coming or are we going to sit here as day while you guys talk?" Michonne calls from the van. She's hanging out from the window with a small smile playing on her face. I don't think I'll ever get used to all the grins and smiles. Daryl turns to me.

"Faith, ya ready to go?"

"One minute, I need to do something real quick." I don't wait to see him nod his head. I pull out a silver dog whistle that hangs from chain on my neck and blow twice. I almost smile thinking about Kiba racing toward the sound of his whistle, almost.

Kiba is more than a dog, he's also part wolf. Kiba's mother had been a huge white wolf with blue eyes, and his father had been an average sized husky that also had blue eyes. My maw and I found Kiba's mom out in the woods. She had been shot and left to die. I remember grabbing up the unconscious wolf and running with her all the way back to the house, so that my maw could do her thing. She had worked as a vet at our nearby zoo before everything fell apart.

I heard Daryl gasp as Kiba ran up and sat beside me. This must look pretty weird to him. I knew that the sight before Daryl would shock him. I mean it would shock anybody. There I stood with a wolf sitting next to me, and his huge head laying on my shoulder. Kiba's white coat brushes up ageist me when I turn to face the others.

When I see them, the first thing I want to do is laugh. Their jaws have dropped open. I open my mouth, knowing what I need to say. "If I come with y'all, Kiba comes too." I wave my hand toward Kiba when Michonne's eyebrow shoots up in an unspoken question. "Kiba's been with me since before and we stick together."

"Ok. Hop in," Michonne says after a minute.

As we pull up to the gates of the prison, I can see people, more people than I've seen since the world went crazy. Some are eating, while others pass out food. A few are just walking around in the sun, and some of those that are done eating are helping clean up. Everyone looks up when the van pulls through the gates and a group of about six walk up to the van when it stops. A younger looking blond is holding a baby. A baby, they have a baby?

Michonne and Daryl steps out of the van and I can hear them talking to one of the men that have gathered.

"We got some things in the back, but Rick there's something you need to know."

"What?" the man asks. Rick, his name is Rick, I tell myself.

"We picked up someone we found. She's in the van. Just so ya don't freak, she brought her dog and it may look like a wolf."

"Ok, tell her to come out." Daryl turns and nods at me. I slowly stand; I have no idea why I'm so worried. I sigh as my feet hit the ground and click my tongue. Kiba is instantly by my side. I raise my head to look Rick in the eyes. I barely manage to stop my gasp as he shoots out a hand for me to shake. I reach out my hand and lightly grip his larger one.

"My name's Rick. What's your name?"

"Faith," I say plainly. I see an older man step up to me. He has a long beard and his hair is white. His eyes are very kind and a small smile creeps on to my face. I can see that the lower part of one of his legs is gone.

"My name's Hershel. Faith, do you happen to be a woman of faith or is faith just a name?"

"I was a woman of faith," I say looking at my feet, "but I don't think I even know what that means anymore."

"Let's go for a walk. We can talk a little and maybe you can begin to remember what it means again."