The next few days passed in a messy blur of knives and blood. It was a constant battle: sleep, eat, fight. Except, for Riley, there wasn't much sleeping or eating. But she was used to fighting; she'd done it all her life, and she knew she was cursed to always do it. But fighting wasn't always a curse. For the past few months, it had been an escape. A way to forget about how screwed up her life was. All she had to do was put everything to the back of her mind and focus on nothing but her instincts and the blade in her hands.

That's why, on the second day, while everyone else slept in the area they'd cleared out, she snuck deeper into the prison and worked on slaughtering as many of the walkers as she could. She took her time, cutting through one after another. Of course, eventually she got swamped and had to turn back.

Rick had chewed her out pretty bad for it. It wasn't hard to piece together what had happened when they woke up and she was covered in fresh, still-dripping blood as well as a few bruises from falling and banging into walls. And instead of taking her punishment like a good little soldier like she would've back on the farm, she walked away in the middle of his monologue. Rick, of course, was fuming afterwards and didn't talk to her for a solid two days. Maybe if she was someone else, someone not detrimental to their group's survival, he might've kicked her out. But seeing as she was exactly what they needed in this world, she got special privileges. It was unlike her to take advantage of those privileges, but at this point she really didn't care.

She'd do what she wanted, when she wanted, and she didn't give a shit what anyone else thought.

Life Goes On

« Chapter One »

"It's Hershel!"

Riley sprung up off the mattress like a cat, muscles tensed and knives clenched in both hands. There was nothing about her offensive position that hinted to the fact that she was caught up in a vivid nightmare merely seconds ago.

A group wheeled in some kind of cart, Hershel laying limp and bloody on top. She watched confusedly from the perch as everyone rushed him into one of the cells. To her groggy, half-awake eyes, there seemed to be no threat other than the fact that Hershel was clearly dying.

She descended from the upper level, glancing in the cell and grimacing at his missing leg. Her eyes scanned the group, and she quickly noticed Daryl wasn't with them.

Panic gripped her heart, cold and frantic. She reached forward, snatching Maggie and forcefully pulling her out of the cell. "Where's Daryl?" she demanded.

"I- I dunno, he was right behind us!" she exclaimed, trying to get away from Riley's tight grip.

Riley released her, turning and stalking out through the open door, planning to wreak hell on anything that stood in her path. She stopped short, relaxing slightly when she saw him standing next to the table. She swiftly noticed his tense shoulders and the crossbow aimed steadily at the open door.

Riley frowned, coming to stand just behind him as a figure appeared in the doorway. She kept her knives at her sides; Daryl could handle one walker. But as Daryl didn't release an arrow and the figure eased its way into the light, it became apparent that this was no walker. Five men donned in prison uniforms entered the room, warily eyeing Daryl.

"Cell block C. That's mine, gringo," the Spanish man in front stated. His walk clearly gave him away as the leader and a forceful, belligerent one at that.

"It's your lucky day, boys."

"Come on, man," the tallest – and biggest – one whined. "That old guy's injured!"

"We should just go," another chimed nervously.

"Naw, we ain't goin' anywhere. We were here first."

Daryl shot up, and the Spanish ripped a gun out of his belt. Riley scowled, stepping forward aggressively. The man pointed the gun at her, but she didn't waver. "Put it down," she demanded.

"Well, anything for a lady," he sneered sarcastically, readjusting his grip on the handle.

"Put it down, or I'll make you," she threatened.

He barked a hoarse laugh. "That's real cute, culito."

Riley snorted humorlessly. "Tenga cuidado de lo que dices, pendejo."

The man cocked his eyebrows. "Ah, una gringa con acitud."

T-Dog stormed into the room, gun held up at the leader. It wasn't long until it turned into a three-way racial shouting fest. Riley rolled her eyes, fed up with the ever-rising level of testosterone in the room.

Rick entered finally, quickly taking control of the situation. Riley watched carefully as they went outside and bargained food for cell area. She knew right off the bat the Spanish man would be a problem; his body language was a clear indicator, but the gang tattoos only worked against him.

"What's up?" T-Dog questioned lowly in the courtyard as Rick argued with the prison group. Daryl kept his eyes on the prisoners, but Riley could tell by the slight cock of his head that he was listening to her as well.

"Spanish one's a problem," she muttered. "Big guy's a gentle giant, so's the skinny blonde."

"The rest?" T asked.

"Not sure yet," she answered. "The short black man's pretty loyal to Mexico."

They delivered the food back to their cells, checking up on Hershel before heading out to another wing to clear off another cellblock. Riley didn't miss Daryl quietly relaying her diagnosis of the men to Rick as they walked.

Riley wanted to be let loose on the walkers in the halls, but Rick wanted to show the prisoners the ropes. Riley, still fuming over the fact that no one woke her up to go find the cafeteria, stood in the back, next to the Gentle Giant.

The fighting became intense, and Riley stood on the balls of her feet, twisting her machete handles in her hands eagerly. Just when she was about to shove her way through the bodies and take control, she noticed Big Tiny edging backwards. She ignored him, refocusing her attention on the fighting.

She was so engulfed that she didn't notice the two walkers come up to the man. Two walkers wouldn't be a big deal to any one else, especially not to a man of that size, but the guy was too gentle for them. They were too much for him to handle.

When Riley finally noticed, it was too late. Big Tiny was already ripped open. She took quick care of the walkers and watched in masked disgust as Tomas murdered the man like he was nothing but another walker.

They quickly made their way down to the prisoners' future cellblock, Riley carefully standing in front of Tomas and blocking him from the rest of the group. When they got to the room, Riley stood next to Tomas, flipping the machetes eagerly in her hands. Rick instructed Tomas to open one door, but he yanked open both.

"Shit!" T-Dog cursed as half a dozen walkers and more coming poured into the room.

Riley instantly jumped forward, beheading one and taking out another's eyes before dancing backwards.

Thomas whirled his weapon around in a wide circle, and Riley nearly fell in an attempt to avoid the knife. She realized his target had really been Rick, and Riley'd just gotten in the way.

The nearest walker took advantage of her unbalance, falling on top of her. She slammed against the ground - the walker was a three-hundred plus pound man - and her arm was trapped underneath her. The knife in her other hand had been knocked out of her fingers, so she used that arm to push away his snapping jaws. Spittle dripped onto her face, and she pressed her lips together so as to not accidentally swallow any.

The teeth were inches away. Riley pushed her chest against his in a futile attempt to put some distance between them; he was to heavy to pull her arm out.

She tried to roll over so she would be on top, but he wouldn't budge. Her growl of frustration quickly turned into a grunt of pain as another walker dropped on them. Her arm flared before going numb all the way down to her fingertips.

She gritted her teeth, pushing as hard as she could against the walker's chest, but he seemed completely oblivious to her movements. Its rotten breath pooled into her face, the teeth snapping eagerly hardly an inch away.

T-Dog shoved his crowbar through the ear of the top walker, and Daryl grabbed the huge walker by the hair. He snatched up its head, thrusting his hunting knife through the skull.

"Ya okay?" Daryl asked, pulling her up to her feet.

"Fine," she answered, rubbing her injured shoulder. She glanced around at the scattered corpses before looking at Rick and Tomas, just as Rick split open Tomas' skull.

Riley blinked in surprise, scowling as Daryl came over and examined her arm. She yanked it away, her forest eyes hard.

Rotating her arm, she reached down and picked up her dropped knives and pushing them back into her belt. The shorter black man sprinted away, and Rick chased after him.

"Get down!" T-Dog demanded to the two surviving men of the prison group.

"He's fine," Riley stated, waving towards the blonde. T and Daryl shared a frown before letting the man stand back up.

"Uh- Uh, my friend here won't hurt nobody. He's a good man," the blonde stammered.

"Funny, considering the circumstances," Riley shot back. "Your name."

"A-Axel. That's Oscar."

Rick jogged back into the room, lips clamped tightly and eyes strained. Riley glanced at him, and he nodded; all she needed to figure that Andrew was dead.

"Axel. Oscar," she informed, pointing at them respectively. Rick raised his knife towards Axel, who was standing, but Riley cut him off: "He's good."

"On the ground," Rick growled anyways, and Axel glanced back and forth between Rick and Riley, confused on who was top dog.

"You heard him," Riley barked. "Down."

Axel obeyed, dropping to his knees. "I swear, I ain't ever hurt nobody!"

"Shut up!" Rick commanded loudly. Riley furrowed her brow; he always got worked up like that whenever he was stressed from making a big decision.

"You two, stay here. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you," Rick added, blue eyes full of malice before he stomped out.


Riley walked stiffly into their cell block, nearly getting tackled by Carl.

"Riley! Are we gonna train today?" he demanded, drawing his mother's attention from across the room.

"No, kid," Riley barked, walking around him. Lori sighed, turning her gaze back down to the clothes in her lap.

"Riley," Daryl called from behind her.

"What?" she asked, reaching for the ladder that led up to their perch. She raised her right shoulder, and it popped, a flare of pain rushing up her arm. She hissed, climbing the ladder with just her left arm.

"You gonna let me see your arm or not?" Daryl asked, irritated.

"I'm fine," she shot back. "God," she added under her breath, dropping onto the two mattresses they shoved together.

Daryl stared down at her for a second before shaking his head and climbing back down the ladder.

Riley listened quietly as Hershel woke up, walker-virus free. She sighed, reaching up and pushing her knotted hair away from her face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd brushed her mess of tangles; as long as it fit in a ponytail it was okay.

Riley turned onto her other shoulder, looking at their clustered group. She sat up, watching Daryl lean in the cell doorway. He glanced up, catching her gaze and offering her a small smile.

The corners of her lips flickered up. Today was a success, unless you were part of the prison group.

Daryl chucked, and Riley furrowed her brow, tipping her head. "What?" she mouthed. He pointed around his head, gesturing towards his hair.

She figured he meant her hair, and she just rolled her eyes. He chuckled again, and she laid back down, sighing deeply.


The night came and went, and Riley actually got a few snatches of sleep. Of course, what sleep she got was riddled with horrific nightmares, but – according to anyone else in the group – sleep was sleep, and Riley needed it.

"Riley, can I talk to you?" Lori asked.

Riley looked up at her from the shoelaces of her combat boots, cocking an eyebrow. She straightened up and strode out into the courtyard.

Taking that as a yes, Lori avoided the curious looks from the women in the cell, following her outside. Rick and Daryl were down by the main gate, checking it out and discussing tactics. Glenn and Maggie were up in the watchtower, and the rest of their group was inside.

Riley stopped next to the rusty bleachers, turning around and crossing her arms.

Lori sighed, licking her lips. Normally, she avoided any kind of contact with the belligerent woman; she honestly scared the mom. But lately, she'd been trying to reach out. She suspected that there was a lonely, depressed girl trapped inside the cruel shell she hid herself in. Daryl wasn't exactly the kind of person to listen while someone spilled their guts, so Lori thought that Riley was lacking in that department.

"I'm going to have the baby soon," she started, rubbing her extremely swollen belly. "I'm not stupid; I probably won't live through the childbirth."

"No," Riley agreed stonily.

Well don't sugarcoat it, Lori thought, immediately dismissing the negative feelings. She focused on the Riley that cried when she lost her best friend; that was who she was trying to talk to. "Rick might be devastated, he might not. It's hard to get a read on him these days. Either way, he'll be busy leading the group. I would ask Daryl, but he's … Daryl." Lori snorted slightly in amusement, shaking her head. Riley didn't crack a smile. "If I die having this baby, I want you to take care of it."

Riley's blink was all that gave away her surprise.

"I want you to train him or her. You know how to survive in this world better than anyone else; just show her how to fight. Please."

"I'm not a babysitter," Riley retorted, turning and making for Rick and Daryl.

"Please!" Lori begged, grabbing the woman's arm. Riley quickly yanked her arm away, but she listened. "You don't have to be if you don't want to be. I just want my baby to survive. You and Daryl are the best at that, and Daryl doesn't know how to fight like you do. Just give her a chance."

"I won't be responsible for anymore lives," Riley stated, her voice completely flat and devoid of emotion.

Lori's heart panged; she knew Riley was talking about Simmie. "Listen, I miss her too. You won't be responsible for my baby, I swear. If you show her from birth how to fight and how to … to kill, she'll be just as adept as you. If not better."

Riley stared at the desperate woman. "I don't even like you."

"I know you don't," Lori responded. "Do it for Rick. Think of all the things he's done for you. If you can't conjure up the decency to want to help him, then do it because you owe him."

Riley's eyes sparked, and she scowled deeply. She didn't bother answering the woman; she just turned on her heel and stalked back into the prison, passing the rest of their group as they filed out of the building.

Lori gritted her teeth, shaking her head. Though she knew she made a valid point about Riley owing Rick, she wasn't sure if Riley would honor that.

"What was that about?" Carol asked.

"I'll tell you later," Lori answered, deciding to take Riley's decision on faith.


Riley sat down on one of the stone tables, propping her feet up on the seat. She untied one of her boots, slamming it against the table and scowling at the cloud of dust that rose up.

Something clicked far away. Riley stiffened, straining her ears to detect another oddity in the silence. She stared at the gate open to the hallway, quietly slipping her boot back on.

A faint growl bounced off the walls, and she slowly reached for her knife at her belt. Before she could do anymore, a dozen walkers suddenly poured in through the gate, quickly followed by another dozen.

Riley whirled around, starting to run towards the cell block, but another horde of walkers cut her off. They caught sight of her, and the silence was replaced with growls and groans as they stiffly ran towards her.

There was no time to get to either door and close them. Riley's back was - quite literally - against the wall.

As she examined the dozens of walkers, she readjusted her grip on her knife.

It wasn't the worst way to die.


Daryl ignored Axel as he started offering to help with his motorcycle. He had it perfectly under control; plus, what would touching up a bike do? It wouldn't get the desperate man a place in their group.

He glanced up at Rick, who was staring at the courtyard. Daryl followed his gaze towards Lori, who was blushing and smiling.

Daryl didn't bother to comment on the strangeness of their relationship. He just shook his head, turning back to his bike. He was thankful that he was with Riley; there was no drama with that woman. No stress, no complications. If she was mad, she'd tell him; if she ever stopped liking him, she would say so. Riley was impulsive, but she wasn't the type to lead someone on.

Daryl was startled out of his thoughts when Rick suddenly bellowed, "Behind you!"

Daryl jumped to his feet, watching as walkers filled in the courtyard. His heart skipped as he desperately tried to find Riley.

"Lori!" Rick screamed, sprinting towards the courtyard as shrieks and gunshots started ringing out. Daryl didn't need any encouragement to pull out his crossbow and chase after Rick.

They stormed into the courtyard, killing as many as they could. Daryl darted up to Hershel and Beth, who had closed themselves off behind a small gate.

"Where's Riley?!" he demanded.

"She went back into the block a few minutes ago!" Beth answered, her voice shrill with fear.

"Dammit!" Daryl cursed, glancing over to the cell block entry, which was completely covered with walkers. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"


"Dammit," Riley whispered, risking a glance behind her. She did a double-take, realizing there was some kind of chain cell behind her. She instantly latched on, climbing to the top of the fence with ease. She stood, peering down at the walkers just as they slammed their bodies against the cell.

Riley leaned up against the wall, closing her eyes and exhaling in relief. She could handle a fight like this, where she no doubt had the better hand. She could pick them off, one at a time.

In the distance, she could hear gunshots and screaming, reminding her that she wasn't the only person in this prison. Her eyes snapped open as her thoughts shot back to Daryl.

If the cells here were overrun, the whole prison could - and, by the sound of it, currently was - be overrun. Riley had to find Daryl, and make sure he was okay. After that, she'd do damage control and slaughter as many corpses as she could.

Riley looked around for another way out. She could jump over the walkers' heads and sprint out the door, but she doubted that she would make the jump without injuring her foot in some way. She glanced up at the walls, noticing a pipe running along the wall, right next to a vent.

Riley unbuckled her belt, holding it in her hands as she went to the far end of the cage. She bent down before sprinting and jumping across the space. For a heart-stopping second, there was nothing between her and death except for a few feet of open air.

Riley slammed into the pole, tightly clenching onto the metal. She slid down a good bit; low enough for their slimy fingers to dig into her ankles. Riley grunted, desperately trying to claw her way up. Blood from her grappling fingernails dripped down her hands, sending the walkers underneath into a frenzy.

The slight panic ebbed, and she wrapped the belt around the pole, pulling herself up. It only took a few seconds to get out of the walkers' reach and only a few more to reach the vent. She held on to the pole with her legs, reaching over and attempting to use her broken, bleeding fingernails as a screwdriver. When it became apparent that her method wasn't working, she pulled her gun from her boot, leaning away and covering one ear as she fired a bullet at one of the screws.

The white noise from the bullet filled her ears, and she violently shook her head to try and stop the world from spinning. She grabbed the broken vent cover, pulling it off.

Riley hoisted herself a little higher before swinging her legs in. Her torso followed, and luckily it was wide enough for her to turn around.

An ear-splitting alarm drowned out the walkers' moans. The sound echoed around the shaft, and Riley gritted her teeth and covered her ears with her hands. She used her elbows and knees, quickly crawling down the shaft. Eventually, the alarm and the walkers faded, and all Riley could hear was her short breaths.

Another path split across hers, making a T with the main passage. She wiggled her gun in front of her, emptying the cartridge into her hand. She left the gun pointing back the way she came and crawled towards the left. The shaft started to get narrower and narrower until Riley's broad shoulders couldn't fit. She slid backwards, passing the gun and going right.

This shaft broke off into several other paths. She sighed deeply; this would take forever. But the thought of Daryl getting torn apart spurred her on. She wouldn't lose anyone else. She left a bread trail with her bullets, getting increasingly more frustrated as the paths all led to dead-ends, or to hallways full of walkers.

For a second, she was hit with a small bout of panic. What if everyone else was dead? From the looks of things, there were plenty enough walkers to easily overrun their camp. She dropped her head in her hands, greedily gasping the limited oxygen. She would die in here: from dehydration, aspyhixation, whatever. She would shrivel up and disintegrate into a pile of ash and bones. The great Riley Todd, killed by air and water in a ventilation shaft.

Oh, God, I'm about to have another episode. Riley struggled to breathe, cupping her hands over her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, curling up into herself as she struggled to get her heart rate under control. She couldn't remember the last one she had; it had been a few weeks at the very least. God, she needed Daryl.

After a minute, the feeling passed, and she went without an episode. Her group was smart; at least one person made it out. Plus, she wasn't about to give up. When she goes down, it'll be heroic. It'll be for something, not scrambling to protect herself.

A faint amount of light reflected off the smooth metal interior. She slithered towards it, looking through the grate. The boiler room was dark, and she could only see one walker, crouched over and - by the sounds of it - eating something.

Riley backed up and turned around, forcefully kicking the grate out. The grate clattered against the ground, sounding deafening in the silence. Silence... The alarms were off. Either whatever powered them ran out of juice, or someone had turned them off.

Riley jumped down a few feet, crouching onto a metal set of drawers. The walker growled, turning around and shuffling lethargically over to her. He was apparently stuffed on what he had eaten, which was-

Riley's eyes widened hugely at the sight of the woman on the floor. All that was left was her head and shoulders, but Riley would recognize Lori anywhere.

"Oh my God," she muttered, kicking the walker back and dropping onto the ground. The walker was so full that he couldn't get off his back. He resembled a beetle, rocking back and forth and waving his limbs around in a desperate attempt to get up.

Riley crouched down next to what was left of the corpse, feeling her stomach shrivel a little. There was a single gunshot wound in her head. Someone had to have done that, which meant someone was alive, for sure.

What happened to the baby? Riley glanced down at where her abdomen should have been, only seeing a puddle of crimson blood.

Surprisingly, Riley felt a twinge of sorrow. She leaned forward and closed the glazed blue eyes, standing back up. "Sorry," she mumbled, throwing one last glance at the still-stuck walker before turning and slipping out of the room.


Daryl watched anxiously as Maggie and Carl shuffled out into the courtyard. Maggie was incoherent, sobbing and clutching a blood-soaked baby. Carl's eyes were hard, and he stiffly stopped in the middle of the yard, avoiding all eye contact.

All color drained from Rick's face, and he walked over to Carl. "L-Lori?" he stammered. Carl didn't move.

"No..." Rick moaned, tears pooling down his face. He sobbed earnestly, walking away and falling onto the ground.

A lump rose in Daryl's throat, and he looked away to blink away the smarting in the corners of his eyes. He glanced around at their group, noticing all the missing people: Lori, T-Dog, Carol...

Riley was still gone.

He wasn't going to lie; he thought she was going to just appear. She had a way of sneaking up on people, just suddenly making her presence known one way or another. He'd thought he would turn around, and she would just be there, behind him, with her bloodstained shirt and matted hair, and shoot him a tiny smile.

But she wasn't. She still hadn't shown up.

Daryl crossed over to Maggie and Glenn. "Where's Riley?" he asked.

"I- I didn't see her," Maggie sobbed, shaking her head.

Daryl's heart dropped, and he readjusted his sweaty grip on his crossbow. Riley couldn't die; she'd made it through things no normal human being could. And he wasn't the only one; everyone in their group thought Riley to be invincible.

Daryl turned around towards Axel and Oscar. "Did you two see her?!" he demanded.

They shook their heads, Axel looking at the man sympathetically.

Daryl growled, cursing under his breath as he turned around. He started running towards their cellblock; she had to be inside the prison somewhere.

"D-Daryl!" Glenn called.

Daryl stopped, turning around and following the Asian's gaze.

From the same way Maggie and Carl had come, Riley appeared. She shrank back into the darkness for a second before shuffling forwards. Her limbs were moving stiffly, and she was covered in dust and blood. She pushed open the gate, stumbling out into the courtyard.

Daryl heaved a sigh of relief, sprinting up to her. "Ya okay?" he demanded, frantically looking her over.

Riley just nodded, glancing around at the remnants of their camp. She did a head count, and a rock of fear settled in her stomach. "T-Dog?" she asked, looking up at Daryl.

He shook his head, muttering an apology. Daryl didn't miss the liquid pooling up in her green eyes; he pulled her into his chest so nobody would see her. She clutched onto his jean jacket, listening to Rick's devastated sobs.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered.

"I ain't 'boutta let dead people kill me," he retorted.

"I saw Lori," Riley confessed, leaning back and wiping at the tear on her cheek. She smudged the blood and dust, wiping her hand on her jeans. "But it was just her head. Is that the baby?"

Daryl glanced at Maggie with Riley, nodding. "Maggie delivered it."

Riley's jaw clenched, and she shook her head. "I should've been here," she growled, furious. "I was there, in the courtyard, and then I walked away. If I'd been there two seconds longer-"

"Stop that," Daryl ordered. "This wasn't yer fault. It was that other guy, the small black one...?"

"Andrew? I thought Rick killed him."

"Guess not. How'd ya get out?"

"I crawled through the ventilation shafts," Riley answered, shrugging.

"That explains this," Daryl said, brushing away the spiderwebs in her hair.

Riley watched her broken group forlornly. "What do we do now, Daryl?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he answered with a sigh.