Out of The Ashes

Author's Note: In this story, the group stays on the farm longer than on the TV show. Events may be spaced further apart.

0o0o0

"…I just don't know how I feel about him, Diana." Beth admitted quietly, meeting my eyes in the mirror for a moment before she lowered them again. "You must think I'm a terrible person."

I placed my hands on Beth's shoulders, forcing her to turn around. When her eyes remained on the floor, I tipped her chin up, forcing her to look me in the eye.

"You are not a terrible person." I told her. "The fact that you acknowledge Jimmy's feelings, and that your rejection would make him feel poorly, proves that you are most definitely not a terrible person."

I didn't release Beth until she gave me a smile. I returned hers with one of my own before allowing her to turn back around so that I could finish brushing her hair. The brush had belonged to her mother, Annette. I had been using it to brush Beth's hair for the past two months I had been staying with the Greene family. It was a gorgeous heirloom, silver-plated and engraved with rosebuds. The fact that Beth allowed me to use it, especially after learning how close she had been with Annette, was just another reason I had come to love Beth so.

"You are so beautiful, Beth." I admired her as I ran the brush through her blonde hair.

"I can't believe you can say that." Beth giggled nervously, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

"Why?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at her odd behavior.

Beth raised her eyes to meet mine in the mirror again.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Beth replied softly. "I wish I was half as pretty as you are, Diana."

I should have guessed that was what Beth meant. She had been admiring my physical appearance since the day I arrived. It was something I was used to hearing, but I never held onto any of the compliments I was given. They were not important to me.

"Nonsense." I murmured, setting Annette's brush on the vanity as I chose a hair tie.

I began braiding Beth's hair the same way I did every night. As I was tying it off, the door opened. I saw Maggie standing in the doorway in the mirror. She wore the same stony expression she had given me every day since I had come to live with her and her family. Her arms were folded over her chest. She was closed off from me.

"Beth, you have chores in the morning. You should be in bed." Maggie said.

"Diana was just braiding my hair." Beth replied, turning to glare at her older sister. "I planned on going to bed when she was finished."

"That's okay, Beth, I'm done." I said, not wanting to cause conflict between Maggie and Beth.

"Goodnight, Diana." Beth murmured, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"Goodnight, Beth." I replied softly, returning her embrace.

When Beth released me, I headed out of her bedroom. As I walked past Maggie, I could feel the chill of her icy stare. I didn't let her coldness towards me bother me. In fact, I had a lot of respect for Maggie. She sensed something about me that she didn't like, and she stood by her conviction. In some ways, she was absolutely right to feel the way she did about me.

The farmhouse had five bedrooms. I slept in the guest bedroom at the back of the house. Otis and Patricia slept in the guest bedroom at the front of the house. The Greene family slept upstairs. Jimmy had been using the guest bedroom at the back of the house, but after I came along, he gave up his room in a very gentlemanly gesture. Jimmy was a gentleman, but I was fairly sure the real reason he gave up the bedroom was to be closer to Beth. He now slept on a couch located just at the bottom of the stairs leading up to where Beth slept.

It was hot in the Georgian summer, so I stripped naked when I was safe in my bedroom. The AC didn't cool the back of the house as well as the front, so I was forced to sleep with the windows open. The summer heat sifted in through the windows, making my skin break out in a sweat.

I made sure that the bedroom door was locked before I pulled my canvas bag out from underneath the bed. I hadn't looked through it in a while, mostly because Maggie's suspicions kept me on edge. I pulled the large envelope out of my bag, settling in on the bed before I opened it. Inside, there were several smaller envelopes, ten to be exact.

I pulled out the first envelope. It always stirred my emotions more than the others. While I took great pleasure in looking through the contents of the other nine envelopes, it caused me great pain when looking through the contents of the first envelope. I had scrawled the name Corinne Crown across the front of that envelope. It was my real name, my birth name.

The first photo was one of Corinne, the person I used to be. She was just shy of eighteen in the picture, posing for one of her senior portraits. She was young. She was innocent.

I flipped to the next picture. It was one of Corinne and her older sister, Cathy. They had been best friends growing up, despite the age difference. Cathy would come home from college every summer, and she and Corinne would spend every day together until Cathy returned to school. Not even the several hundred miles between them could break their bond.

That all changed when he came into the picture. He would break Cathy and Corinne's bond forever.

I pulled Cathy's obituary out of the envelope. The picture my parents had used was the same one included in the envelope, the one of Cathy and I together. Below her picture, my parents had listed off all of my sister's wonderful qualities, her hopes, dreams, ambitions…ones she would never have the chance to achieve. It was all because of him. He had ended her life, any chance my sister had of reaching all of the goals she had set for herself.

The next photo was his mugshot. His name was Allen Williams, and he murdered my sister. He had always been controlling of my sister, but Cathy always assured me that she could handle him. She did. She broke things off with Allen after he started hitting her.

The day before my eighteenth birthday, the phone rang around eleven that evening. Allen Williams had broken into my sister's apartment off campus. He had beaten her half to death, and then finished the job by strangling her with his bare hands. She was twenty five years old, and just days away from graduating with her BA in social work. She wanted to help battered women and children.

Even though Allen was under arrest for a violent crime, he was allowed to make bail. I was furious, but I was also stupid. In my anger, I drove to Allen's apartment to confront him for what he had done to my sister…

I waited in my car for any sign of Allen. It was raining outside. I was already wet from running to my car from the house. I stared out the windshield as the wipers worked back and forth, slicking away the rain. I shivered as the AC blew cold air over my damp body.

I looked over at my purse in the passenger seat. I could barely see the butt of my father's gun sticking out of it. I quickly leaned over, shoving the gun down into my purse so that it couldn't be seen. I had never used it before. I didn't even know if it was loaded. I didn't care.

Suddenly, there he was. Allen was running from out of nowhere, heading up the stairs to his apartment. I saw him disappear through the door. That was my cue. I was going to get a confession. I was going to get revenge.

I got out of the car, purse around my shoulder, and headed towards the stairs. I moved slowly, even though the rain was drenching my hair and my clothes. I gripped my purse with one hand, feeling the weight of the gun inside. The gun that I wasn't sure was loaded. I didn't care.

When I got to the door, I moved my hand into my purse. I gripped the gun. When I was ready, I knocked loudly on the door. I kept knocking, even when I heard Allen shout from inside the apartment that he was coming. I just kept hitting the door with my fist. The only thing that made me stop was seeing his face the moment the door opened, and I knew he recognized me from court.

I lifted the gun out of my purse, holding it in up to his face.

"Get inside." I commanded angrily, shivering in the breeze.

Allen did as he was told, stepping backward into his apartment. I shut the door behind me, keeping the gun on him as I locked it. When the locks were secure, I turned back around to face him. He was standing on the other side of the room, his hands raised as if surrendering to me. He was staring down the barrel of my father's gun. I had the power.

"Sit down." I pointed to the armchair with the gun.

"Okay." Allen replied simply, quickly taking a seat.

I stood there, dripping wet, my hands shaking around the gun. I wanted to pull the trigger, but I couldn't. I had to get my answers before I could avenge my sister's murder.

"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to steady my hands.

Allen just stared at the gun. His mouth didn't even move. He was frozen.

"If you don't give me an answer, I swear to God, I'll kill you." I threatened, trying to sound intimidating. "Do you hear me? I will kill you."

"Why don't you put that down?" Allen asked, lowering his hands. "I'll answer your question, but let's just take a minute to calm down. Can you put that down?"

I bounded forward, aiming the gun at Allen's head.

"You don't get to tell me what to do." I snapped.

"All right, all right." Allen held up his hands again.

"I will kill you." I repeated myself, jerking the gun forward in an effort to scare Allen. "What don't you understand about that? I will kill you."

Suddenly, an unsettling grin pulled at the corners of Allen's mouth.

"I heard you the first time." Allen replied calmly, slowly getting to his feet.

"Sit down!" I shouted, taking a step back as I adjusted my aim.

"I don't think you're calling the shots." Allen smirked, pointing a finger at the gun. "You don't even know how to use that, do you?"

"I've used it plenty of times." I lied.

"Really?" Allen cocked his head. "Then…why is the safety on?"

I flipped to the next photo. It was one of my worse shots. I had been so young then, so inexperienced. I had pointed my camera at him and clicked without really taking my time. I learned how to take better pictures over time. In the shot, Allen was lying face down on his apartment floor. Blood was pooling out from underneath him. There were three shots in his back, all three spread out over his torso. I wasn't a great shot then, either. I learned how to shoot better over time.

I remembered it like it was yesterday: me, fumbling with the gun to find the safety and click it off…Allen, reaching out to grab the gun from my trembling hands…me, fighting against his hold…me, slipping on the rainwater that had collected around my feet…then, the gun going off in my hands as I regained my balance…the look on Allen's face after the bullet ripped through his stomach…

Corinne Crown died in that apartment, too. Out of her ashes, I was reborn.

I looked down at the other envelopes: Rachel Glass, Lucy Shepherd, Taylor Vaughn, and so many others who had rid the world of men like Allen Williams. They had all taken down one man each. Then, when they had served their purpose, a new woman was reborn from the ashes of the previous.

I flipped to the last envelope. My second to last alias, Christine Gold, was written across the front. I opened the envelope. There was no mugshot among the photos inside. The man Christine had rid the world of had been a man in power, a deputy. The crimes he had been responsible for committing were never recorded or cataloged. His name was Jesse Walsh.

I stared at the photo of Jesse, dead in his bed. To anyone else, the picture might have looked like a snapshot of a young man sleeping. To me, it was a souvenir of my tenth kill, a picture of a monster that had been put down for the good of mankind.

The coroner had missed the needle mark beneath Jesse's tongue, and ruled the cause of death as natural causes. Though they were shocked, most of Jesse's friends and family accepted the ruling. The only person who immediately caused an uproar was Jesse's older brother, Shane. I never met Shane, but I had seen him from the shadows at Jesse's funeral. They had looked so similar. They could have been twins.

I spent hours looking through my souvenirs. Eventually, I laid back on the bed with envelopes scattered over my body and in my hands.

0o0o0

"Diana?"

I woke with a start to the sound of Beth trying to open the locked door. I realized quickly that I had fallen asleep with all of my envelopes and photos. Beth couldn't see them. She couldn't know who I really was, who I had been.

"Diana, are you okay in there?" Beth asked from the other side of the door.

I leapt into action, collecting the envelopes and shoving them into my bag.

"Just a second, Beth." I replied calmly, kicking my bag under the bed.

I picked the robe up hanging over the rocking chair on my way to the door. I quickly pulled it on before unlocking the door.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." Beth said as I opened the door. "You're usually up early-"

"You didn't wake me." I reassured Beth with a smile and a wave of my hand. "I was just lost in my thoughts. I'm sorry I didn't answer you sooner."

Beth's worry melted away, a smile spreading across her young face.

"My daddy is looking for you. He's out in the stables."

"Let him know I'll be right out." I motioned to my robe. "I don't think he wants to see me like this."

"I'll tell him." Beth laughed.

I closed the door so that I could get ready for the day. Since Hershel wanted me, I would have to forgo a shower for the time being. I went to the bureau, opening it to reveal some of Annette's old clothing. Hershel had offered me clothes that belonged to Josephine, his first wife. Maggie had put up a fuss, and even though several items of her clothing were hanging in the bureau at Hershel's insistence, I never wore them. I didn't want to cause Maggie any pain.

I chose one of Annette's long, flowing skirts and a cotton blouse that would allow me to breathe in the scorching heat. I laid them out on the bed while I pulled my bag back out from beneath it. At the bottom of the bag were my weapons of choice. I never started my day without them.

First, there were my steel throwing knives. They were sheathed around my upper left arm, which would be hidden by the blouse. I learned to throw knives in Michigan, where the AKTA was founded. Since I learned, I practiced when I could. The set I had were a gift from my throwing teacher, Mark. Since the outbreak, those knives had saved my life on several occasions. Mark had also given me another gift: a single throwing knife with the capability of breaking through concrete. I kept that knife sheathed around my left thigh. My last set of weapons were two syringes I kept in a small pouch at my waist. Though they weren't filled with any kind of toxin or poison, when used correctly, they could kill.

When I was equipped with my weapons, I got dressed. I didn't want to leave Hershel waiting, so I hurried out of the house and out to the stables without stopping for a bite of Patricia's breakfast.

"Good morning, Hershel." I greeted him as I entered the stables. "Beth said you were looking for me."

"Good morning, Diana." Hershel replied as he stopped what he was doing to talk to me. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

"Of course." I nodded.

"Jimmy found Edna Mae Clare about two miles north of the farm." Hershel explained. "Otis has already left to hunt for the day, otherwise I would ask him to go…"

"Say no more." I waved my hands. "Jimmy and I worked well together last time."

"My thanks to you, Diana." Hershel gave me a quick smile. "Annette's blouse suits you."

"Oh…thank you." I murmured, touching the soft fabric. "Her clothes are very beautiful. I cannot thank you enough for letting me wear them."

Hershel gave me a single nod.

"Jimmy should be waiting for you by the barn." Hershel said, getting back to work.

I left him alone to meet up with Jimmy. Hershel was a quiet, but kind man. It was very apparent, and had been on my first day, that his second wife's loss was almost more than he could bear. Still, he managed to chug on. I knew that it was his dedication to both of his daughters.

Jimmy was standing a few feet away from the barn, staring, as I approached.

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy jumped, turning around to reveal the snare in his hands.

"You startled me." Jimmy admitted, visibly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry." I replied. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Jimmy nodded.

Jimmy and I headed north, leaving the safety of the farm behind.

"Who was Edna Mae Clare?" I asked as Jimmy and I walked through the woods.

"She was our church organist." Jimmy replied, glancing over at me. "Our church would have an annual bake sale in the spring, and Ms. Clare would always bake, like, a million peach cobblers."

"That sounds delicious." I said, thinking about a slice of peach cobbler with a scoop of ice cream.

"Shh." Jimmy shooshed me suddenly, crouching down beside me.

I crouched down in the same manner, keeping my eyes peeled for Edna Mae. It didn't take long for me to hear what Jimmy had heard, the sound of rustling leaves and twigs snapping. As the sounds got closer, I also heard faint moaning. It was Edna Mae.

"You distract her." Jimmy whispered, pointing. "I'll go around these trees, catch her by surprise."

"All right." I agreed, getting to my feet.

As Jimmy moved around the trees, I deliberately made as much noise as possible with my feet. I stomped on twigs, kicked a pile of leaves, anything to draw Edna Mae towards me. Eventually, I saw her stagger out from behind a large tree. Her pathetic moaning quickly turned to animalistic hisses as her decaying eyes landed on me. A set of thin, wire rimmed glasses were broken and bent upon her face.

"Come to me, Edna Mae." I said, motioning to her as I took several steps backward.

Edna Mae was glad to oblige. She stumbled after me, her steps becoming quicker.

Suddenly, Jimmy appeared behind Edna Mae. He expertly moved the snare around her thin neck, tightening it immediately so that he could quickly draw his hands away from her. The moment the snare tightened around her neck, Edna Mae's arms began waving wildly as she tried to escape. Jimmy kept his distance on the pole, circling her to the front so that he could lead her back to the farm.

"There's a stump a couple of feet behind you, Jimmy." I warned him, kicking large branches out of his path so that he wouldn't trip or stumble.

"Thanks." Jimmy replied as he stepped over it.

There were no hiccups on the trip back to the farm. When we reached Hershel's property, I went ahead to the chicken coop. Patricia had already bagged an injured chicken for me. All I had to do was scoop it up and head to the barn. By the time I reached it, Jimmy was already waiting at the entrance. I had to unlock the chains and unwrap them so that Jimmy could put Edna Mae inside with the others. There were already a dozen inside. Edna Mae would make it a baker's dozen.

"Ready?" I asked as I unwrapped the chains.

"I'm ready." Jimmy replied, holding Edna Mae back.

I reached into the bag, pulling the chicken out by the neck. I could feel it writhing in my hands. Then, as quickly as I could, I threw open one of the doors. I threw the chicken inside before stepping to the side so that Jimmy could release Edna Mae into the barn.

"Lock it!" Jimmy cried as he rushed back out.

I looped the chains around the handles as Jimmy pressed himself against the doors. When the chains were secure, I locked them. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief, pulling off his hat to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

"That never gets easier." Jimmy mumbled, returning his hat to his head.

"You did great." I reassured him, setting a hand on his sweaty shoulder.

Jimmy looked up like he was going to say something to me, but his eyes suddenly widened. I turned immediately to see what he was staring at. My eyes fell upon two men. One man was standing on the front porch, the other was standing at the foot of the steps. The only reason I didn't tear across the field, pulling my knives in the process, was because Otis was standing with them.

"What's going on?" Jimmy asked, his shoulder brushing mine.

"I don't know." I murmured, running a hand over the knife strapped to my thigh. "I'm going to find out, though."

Jimmy and I hastened to the farmhouse. I kept my eyes on the two men as we walked. The man who had been standing at the bottom of the steps had joined the man on the porch. Then, suddenly, they were both going into the house. Otis watched them go. His presence was the only thing keeping me calm.

"Otis, what is this?" I asked as Jimmy and I reached the house. "What's happening?"

"I didn't see him…" Otis mumbled, shaking his head. "I swear, I didn't see him…"

"Otis?"

I approached Otis, puzzled by his behavior and the two strangers that were inside the house.

"Jimmy, go inside and make sure Beth is safe." I murmured, keeping my eyes on Otis.

I heard Jimmy head up the steps and into the house. When he was gone, I reached out to Otis. I clasped his arms, trying to break him from the trance he was in.

"Otis, what happened?" I asked softly.

Otis slowly lifted his eyes, meeting mine.

"I…I shot him…" Otis replied. "I shot the boy."

"What?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion. "What boy did you shoot? What are you talking about?"

"I was stalking a buck. I shot it." Otis explained, tears welling up in his eyes. "There was a little boy standing on the other side of the buck. The bullet…it went through him…"

I realized what Otis was saying. He had accidentally wounded, or even killed, a boy. The two men who Jimmy and I had seen were obviously the boy's companions. I thought maybe one of them was the boy's father. At the moment, they weren't my concern. My concern was poor, gentle Otis, who was in tears over the guilt of shooting a child.

"Otis, it was an accident." I reassured him comfortingly. "You didn't mean to shoot the poor boy. It was just an accident, a freak accident. It could have happened to anyone."

Otis dried his tears.

"I should go inside, see how he's doing."

I watched Otis head up the steps. As he was approaching the door, Jimmy was already there to open it. When I saw Beth walk out onto the porch, I breathed a sigh of relief. Our eyes met, and she was running down the steps to hug me. She practically ran into me, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. I returned her embrace affectionately.

"Are you okay?" I murmured, holding her to me.

"That poor boy…" Beth whimpered in my ear, sniffing as she cried.

"I know, sweetheart." I replied gently, running my hands up and down her back.

Eventually, Beth pulled away from me. Her cheeks were damp with tears she had already cried as fresh ones spilled down her face. She sniffed.

"My daddy is trying to save him, but-"

"I'm sure he's doing everything he can, Beth." I interrupted her, sweeping hair that had gotten stuck to her moist face back behind her shoulders. "Whether or not the boy lives, your daddy will have tried his very best to save him."

Beth nodded.

"Now, why don't you pour some water for your guests, and for Otis?" I suggested with a smile. "You're a terrific hostess."

Beth gave me a small smile, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

I followed Beth into the house, watching her as she headed into the kitchen. When she had gone, I turned my attention to the two men sitting together in the front room. When my eyes fell on them, I froze. It was as if my blood had turned to ice as it moved through my veins. I could feel myself getting colder with every beat of my heart.

Before either of them could acknowledge me, I moved quickly past them to my bedroom in the back. As I locked the door behind me, I realized that my hands were trembling. I tried to make them still, but the cold feeling that had spread throughout my body was too much.

"It can't be…" I whispered, pulling my bag out from under the bed.

With shaking hands, I flipped to the envelope labeled Christine Gold. I opened it, pulling out the pictures. I tossed the ones that didn't matter to the floor. Finally, I came to the photo I was looking for. When I saw it, the blizzard raging inside of me grew stronger.

There, in the picture, were the two men sitting out in the front room. They sat together at Jesse Walsh's funeral. Both men were deputy sheriffs. One of them was the older brother of Jesse Walsh. The second was his best friend. Through the chaos and turbulence that had been unleashed upon the world after the outbreak, they were under the same roof as me. Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes had found me.