Hay everyone! Well this is my first Walking Dead fanfic so don't hate :( lol as always I love to get reviews :) Hope you enjoyy!
A/N: I own nothing :(
I ran to my bedroom, trying to outrun the dead soldier who was chasing me. Well technically it wasn't my bedroom, or my house for that matter. I'd been on the run since the outbreak, and was currently staying in "Mr. and Mrs. Tate's" house. At least, that was what the mailbox said when I rolled up two days ago. Man, when the outbreak hit, it hit fast.
Quickly, I bolted the bedroom door shut. The enraged walker clawed at the door, snapping and moaning viciously. It wanted flesh. I grabbed my backpack and tossed in the few supplies I had managed to scavenge, checked the clip in my pistol, and slid my hunting knife into the sheath on my hip. You know you're skinny when the only thing that fits right is a sheath for a knife.
With a sigh I opened the window and peeped out. Only two walkers were near my car. I could easily take them out and head South. I needed to get away from New York. I needed to get home and find out if my little sister, Jamie, and my dad were alive. After cell reception went down, I'd lost track of them. Launching my backpack out the window, I climbed down the drainpipes. My only hope was that none of those dead some-bitches caught wind of me.
Thankfully the person who had owned the car before me had filled it up nearly full of gas. I fired the engine up and tore out of the city like a bat outta hell.
I made it to Virginia just fine, but I knew I needed to eat. My stomach was groaning painfully, but I pushed it aside. I would have plenty of time to eat once I got to Atlanta. There was supposedly a refugee center in Atlanta with food, water, protection, and hopefully a cure. I smiled at the prospect of real food. I'd been living off bare minimum since everything went to shit. Scavenging was the only way to survive in an overrun city, and I was getting pretty damn tired of it.
I made it to my dad's house, and cautiously stepped out. Of course, I had my backpack strapped tightly to my form. It held a couple changes of clothes, some water, and food in case I got held up somewhere and couldn't get to my car. The car held my duffle bag full of clothes, and other necessities I'd need for the long haul.
When I stared at the house that was the bane of my existence, I realized something was terribly wrong. The fence's gate was nearly ripped off the hinges and the door to the house was flung open.
Quietly I grabbed my pistol and started towards the house. Once inside, I nearly hurled just because of the revolting smell. Death was everywhere. Blood spattered the carpet and pooled beneath bodies. Holding my breath, I checked each one for signs that it was infected. Every one of them had a bullet hole straight through their brains. Guess even soldiers preferred to opt out than to become one of those walking bastards. Then I found a man who had bullets holes riddled through his body. As my eyes made their way up the man's body, I recognized the ragged flannel, and the can of skoal chewing tobacco lying beside him. I choked back the tears that were forming. My father's dead figure was lying in my hands. Trying to treat it as any other person who had died, I checked his body for bites and scratches. Of course I found several. A wave of tears threatened to over take me. My dad must have suffered a lot before he died. Tenderly, I stroked his face. There weren't any bullet holes in his head, so I knew it was a matter of time.
Frantically, I ran through the rest of the house.
"Jamie!" I called out, hoping to hear my little sister's voice.
I threw open every door in the house looking for Jamie. Tears were streaming down my face. Maybe she had been infected and dad tried to hide her from the soldiers. Maybe she had infected my own father. I tried to open the bathroom door, but it seemed locked. I unsheathed my knife and began picking the lock. I didn't care if Jamie had been infected, I just wanted to be sure before I left.
Finally the old door gave way and I shoved it open. I searched the tiny cabinet underneath the sink for any signs of life. No, no Jamie. The only other place she could hide would be the linen closet. I sent up a silent prayer, asking not to find my worst nightmare in that closet. With a breath, I yanked the door open.
I stared in disbelief. Hunkering in the corner was my little sister. Not thinking, I dropped to my knees. If she had been infected, she would have already tried to kill me.
"Jamie." I breathed out.
Slowly, the small brunette looked at me. Her hazel eyes met my gray ones.
"Jamie, Jamie it's me. Clary. Baby it's me." Tears rimmed my eyes as recognition dawned on her face. No words were said. Jamie just ran straight into my arms, clinging to me for dear life.
"Jamie, I need to know what the hell happened." I said after a few moments.
Jamie let me go and but didn't take her eyes off me.
"Dad. Dad said you'd come. After this… thing hit, people panicked. Soldiers came rushing in, killing people. Not walkers, living people. They came, and dad told me to hide in here." Tears flowed down the thirteen year old's face.
"He-he-he said, whatever you do, don't scream."
I grabbed my sister in a fierce hug. "What about Sharon?"
Jamie wiped away her tears. "Left after the first emergency broadcast." I nodded. "What are we gonna do?"
I thought for a second. "Grab yer shit. We're heading to the refugee center in Atlanta." I explained. Jamie nodded and stood up.
I followed my little sister to her room and helped her pack everything. We grabbed a few essentials and made our way back out of the house. Cautiously, I stopped Jamie and held out my knife. The door to get out was blocked by the bodies, but that's not what stopped me. I could hear it. I heard the fierce growls of a walker, ripping into its dinner. I made Jamie stay where she was, and I stepped out to see the walker.
Immediately the bastard spotted me, and growled, wanting to feed on me. I almost dropped my knife. It was my dad. Dad's body rushed towards me. Thankfully I managed to regain my composure and stabbed him in the skull before he could sink his teeth into me.
When the corpse went limp, I shoved it off me, still in shock. Jamie called out to see if I was ok. I grabbed her hand and the few guns that were sprawled out across the floor.
"Come on!" I said as I hauled her past the bodies and made our way to my car.
I made her sit in the front seat of the car. If I couldn't see her, I couldn't protect her. I let out a ragged breath and started the car. I knew there was a chance my father and my sister might be dead. I was just thankful that some deity had spared my little sister.
"You killed him, didn't you? Dad's gone isn't he?" the thirteen year old questioned.
I nodded. No use in lying to her. "I had to. Dad was dead. That wasn't him. Dad was shot to death. His body was what came back."
Jamie nodded, and not surprisingly, she didn't shed any tears. Dad had never been the greatest father and my stepmother was the worst thing that had happened to him or us.
We made our way out of the city and headed south. We would only get so far, but it was better than staying in one place and risking the chance of more of them fuckers finding us.
Well there ya go! My first chapter :) Drop a review and tell me what you thought!
