Disclaimer: I do not own "The Walking Dead" in any way unfortunately.

Chapter 2: Things are not Always as They Seem

-MAGGIE-

"You're coming with me."

It wasn't exactly what Maggie had in mind when she told her father Hershel she was going on a supply run…alone, but what got her off the farm, got her off the farm. And she wouldn't complain if it meant taking her younger sister with her for some sisterly bonding time per her father's request.

"Why?" Beth sat up in alert from the magazine she was engrossed in.

"Dad said to," Maggie shrugged. "Come on. Don't got all day."

Faster we leave, longer we can stay out. She thought, ready to escape the farm for a while.

"Well, I'm not listening to what Daddy says," Beth said haughtily.

"That'll be a first," Maggie rolled her eyes.

She was still unimpressed by her sister's supposed anger at their father, stemming from being caught with Jimmy alone in her bedroom with the door closed the day before. It was the funniest thing as far as Maggie was concerned, watching Beth and Hershel-the two most soften spoken people she knew-going at it. She was pretty sure they were loud enough to be heard from ten feet away, but she hadn't chanced it, choosing to remain planted against the wall in audience.

"Should I tell him you're making out with Jimmy and therefore..."

"—No!" Beth screeched and rolled off her bed, abandoning her magazine. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

"That's what Jimmy said," Maggie smirked proudly, and Beth's eyes grew wide as she tugged her boots on.

"Oh please, don't let Daddy hear you say that," Beth urged in a whisper.

"I thought you weren't listenin' to what Daddy says," She pointed out, and Beth rolled her eyes.

"Well, at least don't let Jimmy hear that. You'll give him ideas."

Maggie laughed, remembering her snort of amusement when Beth declared in fury that she and Jimmy had only been playing monopoly to which Jimmy piped up tentatively that he was winning. Her laughing stopped though when she caught Beth shudder, and Maggie's face paled, hoping her little sister really had been playing the board game scattered across the floor and not been up to other things.

Maggie shuddered herself, thinking of her little sister messing around in haylofts and bushes like she had at her age. It was preposterous, but looking at her sister, wondering when the blonde had traded in her endless collection of horse t-shirts for stealing Maggie's more mature tops, it wasn't that preposterous.

She'd have to squabble over Beth's stealing of her shirt later.

"Wait," Maggie said deadpanned, stopping short on the stairs and nearly causing Beth to collide into her. "He's not pressuring you? Because if he is…"

…Jimmy might just stumble into the locked barn by accident. She thought.

No one would mess with her sister, at least if she didn't want them to, and Maggie inwardly groaned, wondering when and why Bethie had dared to grow up. She had been chucking Maggie's pregnancy pills into the duck pond only a couple years before, and now, she was closing her bedroom door with a boy inside. It was an unspoken rule in their household and thereby one to be strictly adhered to.

Since when was Beth a rule breaker? That was Maggie's prerogative.

"No," Beth scoffed though her cheeks were pink. "But he doesn't need that in his head, not with everything."

Beth had a point.

Maggie sighed. Jimmy's parents, the Fischers, were in the barn along with her stepmother Annette, stepbrother Shawn, and a whole slew of other infected people that her father and Otis had rounded up over the course of a few months stumbling through the Greenes' land. The barn had become the unofficial overflow room for those infected in their hometown who had somehow managed not to be enclosed in the fences and walls of the local high school like most had.

She paid a brief glance to the barn as they went toward the stable to saddle their horses. Someone, Otis at Hershel's request she presumed, had added another lock. It was bright and shiny with a gleam of sunshine radiating off of it, and Maggie wondered just how many fresh faces had been added to the barn for the old, splintered doors to warrant another lock and chain.

She didn't particularly want to know. Maggie loathed the barn, and her feeling had transferred to her dreams on more than one occasion, imagining the four walls and gabled roof collapsing in flames and consuming the things within. Maggie knew the people weren't sick or even people anymore, clearly not ones in their right minds at least. She'd seen the light fade out of Annette and later Shawn's eyes and felt their pulses weaken and stop.

They'd died.

What appalled her most though was her father's blatant denial that the people in the barn had changed, and though Maggie missed her family and pitied what they had become, she was angered even more. Annette and Shawn had been stripped of who they were, and seeing their bodies walking around mindlessly was a cruel joke taunting those still living. For Maggie, the things in the barn weren't sick; keeping the things locked up in the barn was sick.

Only once had she aired her feelings, and only once had her father adamantly said he would never hear about them being dead again. Though her father was a good man and a good person, Hershel was also a man of convictions, and Maggie granted him his foolish hope, knowing she wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. Hershel would have to realize the truth for himself.

Instead, Maggie took advantage of his predisposition to not think of harboring the undead as dangerous as she knew they were from the news before broadcast ceased and a few close calls with the undead milling in town. She became the resident errand runner for the farm without much problem, considering no one else wanted to ride a horse all the way into town given that gas was saved for the generator, and Maggie enjoyed it, reveling in the chance to escape the farm.

Having Beth tagalong wasn't all bad, and Maggie almost found it comical that her father was wary his daughters weren't spending enough time together not that he had sanctioned said daughters to ride out from the safety of home into town. Yet, what her father didn't know, didn't hurt him, and Maggie had learned her lesson after her first encounter screaming and fending off an undead person.

Beth's eyes grew wide when Maggie handed her Shawn's baseball bat.

"Wh-what is this for?" Beth spluttered.

"Just in case," Maggie explained and took the bat from Beth's grasp, securing it to the horse's saddle.

"In case of what?" She asked with wide eyes.

"In case one of them comes at you. You get a good swing at them if you can't avoid them altogether and then get the hell away. Understand?"

Beth nodded weakly as she clambered up on to her horse, and Maggie did the same, feeling the comfort of Shawn's knife holstered to her hip and thinking of the pistol in the small of her back. Hershel hadn't even noticed it was gone from his gun locker, and she wasn't about to tell him.

"Come on," Maggie urged a now frightened Beth as they exited the stable on horseback. "We'll go this way so Dad doesn't see us…Giddy up."

They rode into town without interference, and she caught Beth's surprise at seeing their hometown abandoned. It was the first time Beth had seen what was left of their beloved town other than hearing about it. Tears welled in her eyes, but she kept them from falling as they clipped on horseback down the road. They stopped at the local grocery store, and after tethering their horses to the lampposts outside, they went in with Maggie reminding Beth to bring her bat.

"You think it's like this everywhere?" Beth asked, staring at her feet as glass from the broken window panes of the storefront crunched under her boots.

"I'd think we'd know if it weren't," Maggie sighed, not even having the heart to snicker when Beth grabbed a shopping basket and pulled it over her arm.

"It's like the farm is all that's left…Maggie…Maggie, what it we're all that's left?"

She turned around at the panic in her sister's voice to find Beth rooted to her spot with the tears she had kept at bay rolling freely down her face. Maggie felt her heart drop and stared at her sister with as much assurance as she could muster for not knowing herself. Being an older sister, Maggie was used to answering questions from Beth and Shawn, especially ones their parents wouldn't or were too embarrassing to ask Hershel and Annette to begin with, and she had learned confidence was key even when being as clueless as her siblings.

"We're not the only people, Beth. I promise."

Liar.

"Really? Have you seen other people?"

"Sure…sometimes."

Kind of.

There was the one rusty red Volvo she had spotted turning a corner on a supply run. Someone had to have been behind the wheel she assumed.

"You ever talk to any of them?"

"No," She answered honestly. "None of them were up close or anything, just passing through...Besides, you can't be too careful with people you don't know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Beth cried in alarm.

"It means keep your eyes open and bat held a little firmer. I can't watch you every second."

Beth nodded and did as she was told, remaining quiet as they perused the aisles, and Maggie couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She hadn't been overly enthused when she was told to take her sister into what she knew could potentially become a dangerous trip without notice, but Maggie had thought she would be urging Beth away from the magazine aisle and shooting down her whim to visit the library across from the high school not looking over her shoulder to make sure Beth hadn't outright fainted from fear.

It was as if the rose-colored glasses Hershel had secured on the bridge of her sister's nose had started to slip down. Maggie felt guilty, and she had worried about Jimmy stealing Beth's innocence when it was her who had kicked the sixteen-year-old into the deep end. She should have told her father no when told to bring Beth along, yet Maggie was strangely glad she hadn't, feeling a bit less lonely that Beth was beginning to see what she saw.

"You're ready to go aren't you?" Maggie asked as soon as the necessities on their shopping list compiled by Patricia mostly were picked out.

Maggie didn't even bother suggesting strolling down the less trampled rows still stuffed full of spring decorations, pastel cards, and candy. Beth would like those rows and no doubt be reminded of times spent grocery shopping with Annette and turning down the lanes just because. Yet, that was the last thing Beth needed she knew. Beth had inadvertently been overwhelmed enough for the afternoon, and Maggie didn't even begrudge being away from the farm for that long when Beth sighed in relief from atop her horse again.

Beth led the way, eager to get home and leave the eerily empty streets behind. Maggie was pleasantly surprised when her sister remembered the old trails weaving through the trees they had run through and ridden horses on when they were younger. The trails weren't exclusive to them growing up, and it was natural to find trails beginning in arbitrary spots on the side of the rode and winding up in dead ends along creek beds or giving way to secret forts on the edge of someone's property.

"Race ya!" Beth called, and before Maggie could protest, her sister was gone with her blonde hair flying behind her.

She nudged her own horse to a gallop, and avoiding the low-hanging branches of trees and brush scratching at her legs, Maggie began to smile at the sight of Beth sticking out her tongue over her shoulder, taunting her. However, her smile never reached her eyes when she spotted the figure obscured by the greenery. Pawing at the bramble and looking worse for wear—it could only be one thing.

Someone undead.

Beth must have noticed what she was about to pass too, and Maggie was closing in on her when Beth whipped her bat out and swung it with such force that would have impressed Maggie had the situation not been so serious. Thinking of Annette and Shawn, she couldn't bear to think of Beth dying too and having to watch her sister wander around aimlessly in the dark barn. Without qualm, Maggie didn't stop and ran directly into the figure.

"Soph…oomph!"

It fell instantly to the side and rolled down the incline of the creek bed not two feet off with its words lingering in its wake. Maggie shared a look with Beth, knowing her sister had made the same realization she had by the look of alarm in her eye. The sick people, the undead collected in their barn made noise—groaning and snarling guttural sounds, but they most certainly didn't begin to form words or cry out in pain.

Maggie and Beth scrambled off their horses, and standing at the edge of the incline, they looked down on the man they had just attacked and injured without cause.

"You think he's dead?" Beth asked uneasily, looking to Maggie.

"I don't know...Why'd you have to hit him so hard with the bat?" Maggie lamented worriedly as she scooted cautiously on her bottom down the incline with Beth following her.

"You're—you're the one that trampled him with a horse!" Beth gaped before sighing.

Maggie rushed to the man, checking his pulse and relieved to find it. His eyes were shut, and she could only assume he was unconscious. His limbs were carelessly and awkwardly surrounding him, and she wondered how many of the snaps hadn't been breaking branches as he fell. Several nasty gashes were visible where his pants and shirt had been ripped.

"We knocked him out. I think."

"That's not so bad...Right?" Beth shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe...maybe, we can just take him to Dad! He can fix him!"

"Daddy's a vet, Beth, not a doctor. Besides, I don't think he'll be too happy about us bringing home a stranger."

"That's true," Beth mumbled, looking over the man they had subdued. "Think he's bitten? I don't think I see any bites on him."

"Me either," Maggie commented before tentatively rolling up the man's shirt and exposing his chest.

"Maggie! What're you doing?" Beth asked in alarm, appearing as though she was about to smack Maggie's hand away.

"Just checking he doesn't have any bites."

"Under his shirt!"

"Beth, it's not his pants," She rolled her eyes.

"Well, how do I not know you weren't going to check there next!"

"Would you be quiet. You're gonna bring an actual sick person down on us," Maggie shushed, feeling her cheeks burn as she realized she was looking at a strange man's chest without his approval.

"Sick?" Beth scoffed. "Dad is so wrong isn't he? They're not sick. They're—they're crazy...They're dead."

Beth gave a sad look, and Maggie pulled the muddy shirt back over the man's torso, not bothering to check his back and realizing how glad she was that he hadn't suddenly woken up. If the stranger was bitten or scratched, there was nothing they could do for him anyway.

"No, they're not sick," Maggie confirmed, and Beth swiped at the tears lingering in the corners of her eyes.

"I think I knew," Beth focused in on her hands in her lap. "I just didn't want to. You know? I just wanted to believe that Mama and Shawn would get better…that everything would go back to the way it was before."

"That's not gonna happen."

"I know…but Dad must really think that Maggie. He never would have let me come to town with you or ever have even let you leave the farm. He must really think…" Beth broke down crying, and Maggie pulled her younger sister to her in a hug.

They were covered in mud with murky water lapping at their knees and feet, and Maggie looked at the stranger's face, watching his dark hair fan out on the water's surface. The horses brayed at the top of incline, nickering at each other, and she focused in on her sister's heart beating close to her own. None of what had transpired was supposed to have happened, but there they were. Maggie felt guilty for dragging who could possibly be an innocent bystander and was at the very least their victim into their troubles. He looked nice enough, normal enough, and she rolled her eyes at the mess she, Beth, and he was in.

"Maggie?" Beth sniffed after a few minutes and emerged from the cocoon Maggie's arms had created and enveloped her in. Her blonde hair was matted to her wet cheeks.

"Hmm?"

"I know why Daddy let me come. He really doesn't see the danger, but Maggie, you knew…" She shook her head in confusion.

"I honestly didn't think anything would happen. It usually doesn't, but you needed to know," Maggie swallowed, laughing wryly. "Though this isn't the best example..."

"No," Beth laughed.

"—But…at least you know now."

"At least I know," She murmured, pulling away and sighed. "What're we gonna do?"

"We can't leave him here, and we can't take him home," Maggie said. "We're gonna have to find somewhere else to keep him."

"You can't be serious. We can't just keep strange men, Maggie!" Beth admonished.

"I didn't say we were keeping him…We're just…" Maggie rolled her eyes, and Beth gave a pointed look at the Asian man unconscious in the mud, "Borrowing him."

"Borrowing him from who? His other crazy, psycho friends…with guns?"

"Please, Otis carries a gun."

"Otis doesn't aim it at people," She grumbled. "At least he might have been aiming at me…I don't know—one second he was this muddy creature and the next he was this guy with a gun rolling down the hill."

"So what? You want to just leave him for dead?"

"Nooo…but he's not technically dead. If we just sneak away now, he'll never know."

"And what if he doesn't wake up soon, Beth? What if one of the sick or—or not sick—one of the undead people come through here? He could get bit. For all we know, it could rain and the creek could rise. I'm not gonna let him drown in six inches of water. Are you?"

Beth tugged at her lip nervously, and Maggie waited for her to come around. Her sister would be scared of her shadow on a bright day if it wasn't for Maggie and Shawn's poking and prodding at their younger sister in jest throughout her childhood. Shawn would jump out of closets to make her scream, and Maggie would make ghost noises in the barn when Beth was doing chores before dropping a flapping chicken on her head.

She had been tormented in sport, and though Maggie felt a little badly for some of her antics, she knew her sister was better off for them. Beth had learned to not let fear rule her, and Maggie had never been so humiliated nor so proud when Beth along with the help of one of her school friends had Maggie and Shawn running like lunatics out of the old cemetery on the far side of town the summer before.

"Fine, but what if he is dangerous…"

"—He's not dangerous."

"But what if he is?"

"I don't think dangerous men carry dolls," Maggie pointed out the dirty rag doll that had fallen to his side after the tumble down the hill, giving the man the benefit of the doubt that he didn't have the doll for other more worrisome reasons. "Besides, we're the one who attacked him."

"He held his gun up."

"Wouldn't you if you heard a loud noise coming toward you in the woods?"

"Maybe…you think he has a little girl?" Beth asked, plucking the dirty doll from the mud and pulling it in to her lap.

Maggie gave a look over the stranger. He was no older than her and looked terrible with a goose egg forming on his head and cuts and scrapes from his fall down the hill. She suspected more abrasions were covered under his clothes and mud, and she'd spotted purpling marks on his chest too from where her horse had rammed into him. Maggie didn't even know what to make of his leg that was a little too askew to be considered normal. There would be a lot of explaining to do when he woke up, and she swallowed hard, praying he did wake up after all the damage they had done.

The thought that he might have a daughter terrified her, and she thought of a little girl whose daddy wouldn't be coming home.

"Lord, I hope not."