Title: Welcome To the New Age
Rating: T for language, violence and gore.
Summary: "This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper." Taylor's left alone at the end of the world and bumps into someone that might be able to help her out.
Warnings: Violence, language, character death, blood and gore, original character (in case that wasn't clear), racial slurs.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with AMC, The Walking Dead or its cast. I'm just a fan who's playing in the sandbox.
Author's Notes: I suppose I should say now that updates will be sporadic. I'll try to update a couple of times a week, but don't hold me to a strict schedule. Sometimes, like today, the words come easily while others I'll spend a week agonising over a chapter. So you probably shouldn't expect daily updates, though I'll try to keep everything pretty frequent!

Two

(Because what's a start without a follow up?)

Taylor peered out at the camp curiously, gripping her bow tightly for comfort. There was an RV perched to have the prime view over the camp and the surrounding area near to where Glenn parked. Tents were set up in a vaguely circular shape and there were places for people to sit set up outside. There was a fire pit of sorts in the middle of all this, though no fire was burning at that hour. She could see lines of washing up and stacks of firewood, as well as buckets of water. The most surprising thing, though, was the people.

She had known going into this there were going to be a few people, but there were a lot more than she had expected. Still relatively small, she supposed, but still more than she was expecting to see. The most surprising to her were the two kids, each clinging to who she assumed were their respective mothers. Families, Glenn had said. She hadn't realised that he had meant there were going to be kids in camp.

Glenn got out of the car, calling out to the elderly man perched on top of the old RV as the people of the camp filtered in. Taylor sat in the car nervously, sinking low in her seat so nobody could really see her. Her grip on her bow was so tight her knuckles had turned white and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. At Glenn's gesturing, she slowly got out of the car, adjusting her quiver automatically as she went.

She could feel the eyes on her as she made her way to the front of the car where Glenn was standing. She smoothed a hand over the wood of her bow again, the feel of it comforting beneath her fingers. She knew there was no chance she could take on all the people in the camp if they turned on her, but the feel of her bow was still comforting to her. Taylor took a fortifying breath and lifted her gaze from her weapon to meet the eyes of the man who was clearly the leader of the group.

"This is Taylor," Glenn said after a moment of awkward silence. "I bumped into her in one of the alleys in Atlanta."

She gave a half wave, accompanied with a smile. "Hi."

The leader – Shane, if she remembered right – smiled back at her. "Hey there," he greeted warmly. "I'm Shane."

Taylor nodded, chancing a glance at the camp at large. What stuck out to her was how… clean they all were. While they weren't exactly spotless, they were nowhere near as bad as she was. Her clothes were covered in an unsettling mix of blood and guts from the corpses she had had to get up close and personal with, and her skin was probably filthier. Her hair was a mess, too, though that was less noticeable thanks to the tight braid she had pulled it into.

She wanted to tug nervously at her clothes, apologise for being so dirty, but instead she straightened her back and schooled her expression into something more neutral. Taylor was good at that; she could act like she was fine, or untouchable, when it suited her. She had the feeling she would need to do that a lot now she was going to be with actual humans.

"Glenn, why don't you show her around?" Shane said, seeming to sense her discomfort despite her act.

"Sure thing," Glenn agreed readily.

Taylor found herself being pulled around camp, getting introduced to everyone. They all seemed friendly enough, though a little wary of the stranger in camp. She could understand that, especially considering her filthy appearance. The only people she wasn't properly introduced to were the two men hovering around the edges of camp together. Glenn pointed them out, telling her they were Daryl and Merle Dixon while claiming they weren't the friendliest pair.

She had spotted one – Daryl – carrying a crossbow, though, and she was pretty interested in his choice of weapon. She had never been a big fan of crossbows because of how long they could take to load, but she liked them a lot better than guns. Guns were noisy and their ammo ran out quickly. She was approving of his choice to use a crossbow and resolved to try and strike up a conversation with him about it later. She wanted to get on well with everyone in camp if she was going to be staying there, regardless of whether they were friendly or not.

When the tour was over she was taken to where everyone had congregated around the fire pit. Taylor braced herself for the inevitable slew of questions and wasn't at all let down. As soon as she had settled down in between Glenn and the sweet blonde, Amy, she had been introduced to earlier, Shane set his gaze on her.

"So, Taylor, what were you doing in Atlanta?" he asked.

"I've been there since things got bad," she admitted honestly. "I couldn't get out of town because of the military, and people kept on coming in in search of the rescue centre. It was pretty much impossible to get out, so I hid until things cooled down a bit. By the time it was safe to try leaving, the place was overrun and, well, there was nowhere for me to go. So I stayed."

"On your own?" Shane pressed, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, staring at her shoes. "My parents – they, uh, didn't make it." She swallowed past the lump in her throat that rose at the mention of her family. "Neither did my friends. I've been on my own since this all started."

She earned some surprised looks at that, as well as a few scared and respecting ones. She felt uncomfortable with all their attention on her but she ignored that. The more she got out now before clamming up, the fewer questions she would be asked later.

"How'd you survive?" Lori, if she remembered correctly, asked after a moment of silence.

"Hiding, mostly," she answered truthfully. "I stayed in high places, where people couldn't find me or hear me. Or smell me. And I guess I was pretty lucky at the start. When everything started to go bad, really bad, I was at this archery range. I taught there on weekends. I managed to grab my bow and some arrows before looking for my family."

She lapsed into silence, taking a fortifying breath before continuing. "I got to my family but the military, they came pretty quickly afterwards. My mother made me hide, made me promise I'd survive no matter what. So that's what I did. It wasn't my proudest moment, but she made me promise." She clenched her hands into fists, startling a little when Amy placed a hand over her own in a comforting movement, but she made no move to dislodge the girl's hand.

"I went high, found out of the way places where it would be safer. A lot of it was just sheer luck, I guess. I scavenged supplies where I could, and I killed anything already dead that got within range. Found myself a knife early on for close range fights. I kept moving, never stayed in one place more than a few days, and I stayed off the ground as much as possible."

She smiled waveringly over at Shane. "So, that's me. What about you guys?"

After that, everyone seemed to ease up a little around her and shared their own tales of survival. Taylor relaxed herself a little, too. It was nice to be around people, and they seemed to accept her easily into their group. She got on surprisingly well with Amy. They were pretty much polar opposites, but they were around the same age and her sweet, friendly nature was the perfect contrast to Taylor's own blunt roughness.

Dale, the elderly man who seemed to like keeping watch, offered her a spot in the RV and she took it readily. The RV was bound to be better than a tent, and anything was a damned sight better than a rooftop. Taylor took her things into the RV and Lori was nice enough to take her down to the quarry so she could clean up a little bit.

Feeling refreshed after her wash, she and Lori returned to camp where Shane called her over. After shooting an unsure glance at the older woman, who nodded, Taylor headed over to the leader of the group. She slowed to a stop before him and offered a smile.

"What can I do for you, Shane?" she said, forcing some lightness into her tone.

"Glenn mentioned while you were with Lori that you seem pretty handy with that bow," he stated, looking at her with a friendly expression.

Taylor nodded, adjusting the strap of her quiver, where her bow was currently stationed. "Yeah. I'm a pretty good shot, I guess. I mean, I'd have to be handy with a bow to be able to teach kids archery, right?"

Shane nodded, a small smile on his face. "Right," he agreed. "Any good with any other weapons?"

She shrugged a little, tapping the handle of her knife. "I'm solid with a knife."

"What about guns?" Shane pressed.

Taylor frowned, biting her lip. "Not sure," she admitted. "I've never used one, but my aim's good enough for my bow so I guess I'd be okay with a gun if I knew my way around it. But I don't like guns." At his questioning look, she sighed and added, "Guns are loud so they attract the attention of the – Walkers? That's what you guys call them, right? Yeah, they attract the Walkers, so I wouldn't like using them, but hey. Beggars can't be choosers."

Shane nodded again before letting her go. At a loss of what to do with herself, Taylor decided she'd go talk to Dale a little more. The old man seemed sweet, and pretty smart, and he was high up. She liked being high up after spending so long on rooftops, so she could picture herself spending her free time with Dale on top of the RV pretty easily.

She clambered up the leader leading to the top of the RV, smiling waveringly at the older man. Dale smiled back kindly as he lowered his binoculars, turning slightly to face her better.

"Hi, Taylor," he greeted. "What brings you up here?"

Taylor tugged on the clean shirt Lori had loaned her, giving a little shrug. "This is the highest place in camp," she admitted with a sheepish smile. "I'm not really used to being on the ground much. I like being high up after spending so much time on rooftops in Atlanta."

Dale nodded, smile still in place as he gestured for her to sit. "Mind keeping watch if you're going to be up here, then? I could use the chance to stretch my legs."

She shrugged again but took the offered binoculars, settling down on the lawn chair Dale had set up. "Go stretch," she called as the older man climbed down to the ground, grinning a little to herself as she heard his laughter. She lounged back in the chair, bringing the binoculars up to peer around the area surrounding the camp.

A few hours slipped by as she kept watch, alternating between scouring the quarry and forests and talking to anyone who struck up a conversation with her. Everyone seemed to want to get to know her better still, but they were respecting her wanting to keep to herself for a little while. Taylor had gone from being utterly alone to being surrounded by people, and the transition wasn't an easy one. But she was adjusting, just like she always did.

Taylor guessed, looking back on it, that she was lucky that she could always adapt to a situation quickly. She didn't like dwelling on the past, not even the good times much, and that meant she found it easy to soldier on and adjust accordingly. When the outbreak first hit, she had been one of the first to get used to the way the world was then. It was probably one of the things that had kept her alive.

When the light was starting to fade, Dale insisted he take over keeping watch. Reluctantly, Taylor handed over the binoculars and returned to the ground, almost immediately itching to get back up high. She heaved a sigh before making her way to the outskirts of camp. Glenn hadn't taken her there earlier, claiming that it was where the Dixon's were holed up and as such it wasn't a desirable place to go. She didn't care much about that; she wanted to know the layout of camp in case something happened.

She ambled past the smaller fire pit she assumed the Dixon's used, skirted around their tent and went looking in the fringes of the forest. She got her bow out in case a potential meal went scurrying past – or something a little less friendly. Taylor didn't delve too deep into the trees for now, instead just scouting out the area. She found a tall tree quite close to the Dixon's tent and after a moment's debate, climbed up. When she was around half way up the tree, perched happily on a branch, she surveyed her bow.

She had been considering carving patterns into the wood for a while but Taylor had never really had the free time. Now, at the camp, she could see herself easily snatching an hour or two to pay attention to her bow. Deciding she had nothing else to do – the camp seemed a little unwilling to pile on the chores at the moment – she pulled out her knife and started carving.

Around twenty minutes went by spent engrossed in carving, though she only managed to carve a small part of the wood. She wanted to take her time to make sure it was perfect and besides, the longer she took the more time it would take up. She only stopped when she started at a sound coming from the forest, fumbling and dropping her knife as she shifted to get a better look.

Taylor cursed under her breath, realising it was only a squirrel scampering by. She carefully rested her bow up against the thick trunk of the tree and firmly wrapped her legs around the branch, gripping the rough bark with her hands as she swung so she was upside down. After a moment, she dropped her hands and swung down a little, so she was close to the ground, and immediately began scouring the earth for her knife.

"Jesus fuckin' Chris'!" someone snapped from nearby.

Taylor blinked, raising her eyes from the ground to peer at the upside down form of Daryl Dixon. She waved awkwardly, swaying a little with the movement. "Er, hi."

"The fuck ya doin'?" he demanded roughly, scowling at her.

She attempted a shrug but found the movement difficult in her position. She returned her eyes to the floor, grinning to herself when she spotted her knife. "Looking for my knife," she replied absently, stretching out a hand to grasp it.

"Why were ya in a tree?" he snarled out.

Huffing out a breath, Taylor spread her fingers wide in an attempt to get her knife, with little success. "I was carving my bow."

"In a tree?" Daryl said, sounding sceptical.

She tried to shrug again, blinking as the blood started to flood to her head. "I like being high up," she said simply before huffing out another breath. She pulled herself back up to the branch, clambering back so she was sitting on top of it. She grabbed her bow and put it in her quiver before jumping lightly from the tree. Landing in a crouch, she scooped up her knife before straightening out.

She turned to face him, offering a smile. "You're Daryl, right?" At his nod, she added, "I'm Taylor."

"I know tha'," he shot back almost instantly. "Everyone in camp's takin' 'bout ya."

She nodded a little, returning her knife to its customary position. "Can't say I'm surprised," she stated cheerfully, wandering past Daryl as she spoke. She was aware of his eyes on her as she continued on. "I'd probably be a bit more worried if I wasn't talk of the camp, having arrived out of nowhere and all." She shot a smile over her shoulder him.

"Why was ya over here?" Daryl asked, voice as rough as over.

"Just taking a look around," she said, shrugging properly. "Glenn didn't bring me over here on my, uh, tour, so I thought I'd come check it out."

"Well, don' come round here again, alrigh'?" he instructed irritably.

Taylor spun around, jutting out her hip and planting her hand on it. She tilted her head to the side, surveying the man before her curiously. He seemed a rough sort – he was dirtier than the rest of the camp, and his general manner seemed gruff. Glenn had quietly confided, earlier, that a lot of the camp members were scared of the Dixon brothers, but she wasn't. She had spent a month and a half in Atlanta, surrounded by Walkers, and before that had had no problem taking care of herself. She was confident she could handle the pair of redneck brothers.

"I make no promises," she replied lightly after a pause. "I'm prone to wandering." Before he could voice another complaint, she flashed a smile at him. "It was nice meeting you, Daryl!" With that, she turned on her heel and headed back into the main camp. "See ya," she called over her shoulder, grinning cheekily at him before getting dragged into a conversation with Amy.

And if Daryl glared at her through the night when everyone gathered to eat, well, she wasn't going to say anything.

I'd really like to know if you think I'm keeping people in character; I struggle with that sometimes, so some feedback on that would be nice. I know Taylor's personality is sort of fluctuating at the moment, but that's mostly because she's starting to relax around the campers. She should be settled by the next chapter, I believe. Reviews are love!

C x