As we approached the next street there was moaning, I had heard it so many times. The moaning, growling, hissing, and shuffling was the soundtrack of my new life.

I slowed down and looked over to see a legless, decayed, woman. Clawing up at us from where she lay. There was a bicycle next to her mangled body.

She was trying to crawl to where we stood. It was pitiful, especially because I knew she was once someone's daughter, maybe even someone's mother.

I thought of my mother, the sharp sound of the gun when it went off, it made it's way through my memory.

Rick was shaking me, he looked worried.

"S-sorry." I mumbled as I broke free from his hold. I started on my way once again. I hated the feeling of that night creeping through my head whenever I had reminders.

The street was empty, there were a few unmoving rotting corpses and debris scattered about. I could tell this was a nice neighborhood once.

Where manicured lawns with sprinklers and beds of flowers once laid, now was littered with dead bodies, unburied and putrid. Wrecked cars, fallen trees, trash, broken fences, and shattered windows.

Rick looked sick as he glanced around.

When he found his house he stopped and peered up at it somberly. After a few moments he ran inside.

"Lori? Carl?" He yelled. While he ran through the house I stood at the front door.

I knew that if they were still here, they'd be dead. There were so many murder-suicides when it happened, no wonder why it seemed like nobody was left alive.

After a few minutes I went in to find Rick. The house looked almost normal, the drawers were emptied and there were curtains on the floor, but that was about it. Rick was standing over a dresser looking down at a photo. There was no other discernable expression on his face, only sadness.

"My wife, my kid. They're gone." He whispered sadly.

"They probably went to a base, or a safe haven." I shrugged.

"Why aren't you looking for one?" He asked, looking at me with confusion.

"I'm not sure, every time I find a city or very populated town. It's filled to the brim with walkers. Out here it's quiet, hardly has any." I said uneasily.

The truth was that I had escaped from one, I got out alone before the explosion. The still silence after the blow still sounded in my worst nightmares.

When we walked out of the house there was a gunshot behind us. Before I could turn around I was hit once with a blunt object. I fell down and hissed at the pain.

"Daddy, I got two of um!" A boy yelled. A man walked up holding a gun. The sun glared off of his pistol as he raised it.

"What's that bandage for?" He asked Rick pointing the gun straight at him. Rick was out cold, I tried to sit up, but the man held the gun at me then. There is nothing more dreadful than having a barrel of a gun pointed between your eyes.

"What is it for!" He yelled.

"He got shot!" I yelled back. My hand found it's way to my swollen scalp. It started to itch unbearably.

The man put his gun away and held out his hand. Ignoring the man I scooted over to Rick and placed my fingers against his neck. His pulse was strong.

I stood wiping off the dirt that was riddled on the butt of my jeans, then I turned back to the man, he was grabbing Rick's feet.

"Help me." He demanded roughly, I nodded and took Rick's hands.

We carried him into the house next to his. As I looked back behind us, there was a herd of walkers shuffling towards us. All terribly gnashing and hungry. Their moans and growls were loud as they banded together to close in on the porch behind us.

When we finally made it inside the man dropped Rick's feet and slammed the door. There were five locks and he quickly locked them all.

This house was made to be a stronghold. Plywood covered most of the windows, except for a small piece in the middle of each for peeking. There were candles, and lanterns on the shelves.

The man picked up a two by four and placed it under the handle of the front door, he kicked it until it was tightly placed. The door was also reinforced by plywood, the peephole was still exposed.

"Let's get him to a bed." The man said quietly. I nodded, and took Rick's hands once more. The man led me down the hall to a guest room.

When we got Rick into the bed, I sat with him a minute. I placed his hands beside him and pulled the covers up to his waist. I sat down beside him on the bed and traced the bandage with my index finger. As I checked his pulse again, I really looked at him for the first time, without distraction. He was serene and gentle while he slept.

I knew that the new world hadn't pulled him into it's corrupting grasps just yet. He was almost a token of the old world, but he'd learn quite soon, what you had to be to survive.

Heartless, unaffected, and numb. That was who I had became in such a short time. What I would've given to die with the rest of my family. It was funny, I wanted to die with them, but I refused to die at that time. What was even funnier was that I still refused to die.

I held his hand for a silent moment, then I left him. Walking out into the hall where the man was waiting. He was leaning against the wall.

"You mind telling me why the hell you can't tell the difference between two live humans and two dead walkers?" I asked him holding my head.

"It's my son Duane who can't tell, I usually don't take him out." He huffed rubbing his face. I looked over at the young boy who was peeking over the couch that sat by itself in the dinge little living room. Automatically I felt bad, the kid was only trying to protect himself, who could blame him?

"I'm sorry, just haven't been hit that hard by a kid. He's got a hell of a swing." I smiled at Duane, he ducked back behind the couch.

"He's quiet." His father admitted giving me a weak smile.

"I was the same way once." I muttered.

The man told me his name was Morgan, I told him my name and Rick's name. I also told him how I found Rick. Morgan explained his panic over the bandage and offered me his room to rest. After the day I had, I accepted.

When I was alone I checked my leg. It was starting to look better. I took an antibiotic and a pain killer. Then I laid on the bed.

The sound of a car alarm awoke me. I was panicking, I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the room. When I heard Morgan talking, I relaxed and stopped in the hall. Rick was standing next to the door with Morgan.

"She died in the other room on that bed," Morgan said. "I should have put her down. I just didn't have it in me. She's the mother of my child." The pain in his voice was thick.

I walked into the living room where Duane was sobbing quietly. When I sat next to him he scooted down the couch a bit.

"You know, Duane, I lost my mother too." I said trying to keep the pain from my voice. After a few seconds he looked up.

"You did?" He asked wiping a tear from his left cheek.

"Yes, I did. It hurt, it still hurts. But, you have your dad, and let me tell you. In a time like this, that's a lot to have." I told him smiling. He wiped his other cheek and grinned.

"It is?" Duane asked, and I nodded.

"Well, you got Rick." He said patting my shoulder. I laughed a bit.

"I do." I said, looking into the hall where Rick stood. I knew he'd go to the end of the earth to look for his family, and I would follow.