Disclaimer:I do not own The Walking Dead: Not it's characters, certainly not Daryl Dixon -sadly-, not the plot (except the stuff that's not part of the original story), the story line, etc.
I also don't own whatever Canadian slangs that I end up using.
However: I do own Jo and Ben Teague, they are my own characters that I have created.
Note: I have started writing again! -yay!- And due to that, I started to reread this story and found out that I didn't like how I've worded/phrased some things, so I've decided to rewrite it.
Also, like before, if I end up using terms that some people don't understand/don't know because they are Canadian terms, I will be posting their meanings at the bottom of the page.
You see, two months ago, the world as we knew it went to hell, literally. To be honest, I don't know exactly how it happened or when everything started going downhill. The only thing I was sure of, was that I wished it was a nightmare. When this epidemic, virus, or what-have-you started, I hadn't been around for the start. Instead, I had been out in the woods, up in northern Saskatchewan with Benjamin, camping. It was a tradition that he and I started when he was five and I was twenty-two, so we could spend time together and get to know one another due to the large age gap between us. When he was born, I was off to university for my studies, so I was never around much for him, not like I had been for our other siblings.
Our family lived out on a farm, in the middle of nowhere up in Saskatchewan, Canada. Our farm was about 1500 acres, with bush and trees serving as our landmarks for our property. We were self-sufficient there, with two large gardens and animals for food. Our father was a skilled hunter and a good farmer, he was the one who taught my siblings and I how to hunt, track animals, skin our kills, cover our tracks and how to live off the land. It was thanks to his guidance that I became such an efficient hunter and tracker today. My mother, on the other hand, was an herbalist and a stay-at-home-mom, she taught us how to identify different plants on sight to see if they were poisonous or not. She also taught my siblings and I how to make ointments from the herbs that grew off the land, knit, sew, how to cook without a stove and how to conserve our provisions if we were running low. It was thanks to her lessons that I ended up becoming interested in medicine.
When I was younger, I had no interest in what my parents were trying to teach me. To be honest, I never thought that the world would end, or that I would, in fact need their lessons as much as I do now. I was a fool, but then, I was young and I didn't know any better. Now though, I held onto those lessons my parents gave me, and utilized them as much as I could, whenever I was able to. I did this to honour their memory because I would never be able to thank them in person. After all, how can I thank the dead?
Over a month ago, when Benjamin and I were returning home from our camping trip, we headed into the city. It was an annual tradition for our family to gather near the end of summer to celebrate the birthdays of the twins, the middle siblings. We always held the celebration at our grandparent's home, and as I drove down the street, I found it weird that the streets were all but desolate. But I honestly didn't think anything of it until we reached our grandparent's home. Usually, we were greeted by our grandmother and mother, who, more often than not, noticed us driving up from the window. Once I pulled into the driveway, and both my brother and I got out of my dark green Jeep Patriot, we walked to the side door. To my surprise and suspicion, the door was hanging wide open. Before Benjamin could run into the house, I took hold of his shoulder, a silent warning for him to stay next to me.
I entered the house first, keeping Benjamin close to me, just in case there was someone inside that shouldn't be there. The first thing that hit me however was the smell. I could smell something was rotten, but it was so overpowering that I wasn't sure where it was actually coming from. The kitchen was in disarray, plates, Tupperware, and food littered the tiles, while leftover drinks had been left to spoil on the counter. This was the first time I had ever seen my grandparent's home in such a mess, especially since they liked everything being clean.
It was also eerily quiet in the house, except for something that resembled groans and growls that came from the living room. I pressed a finger to my lips when I looked over at Benjamin, for I didn't want him to make a sound just yet. My little brother was smart and nodded his head, his hand had a firm grip on my tank top, using me as an anchor. He wasn't sure what was going on either, but he had enough faith in my abilities to keep us both safe. Slowly we walked towards the living room, usually it was a place for social encounters, but what I saw had my blood running cold.
There, sitting on the couches, unmoving, were our grandparents, dead. In front of them, crouched on the ground were our siblings. I couldn't see what they were doing, but from the feral sounds they made, it was not 'normal.' It sounded as they were chewing on our grandparents, as if that was the only thing they could concentrate on doing. In truth, it made my stomach twist in such an uncomfortable way, that I thought I would end up being sick. Behind me, I felt Benjamin tense as he looked around me, trying to see what I was seeing. That was when he started to quake. Immediately, I covered his mouth with my hand, and muffled his screams of fright.
It wasn't enough though, for the sound of his sobbing caused our siblings to stop what they were doing. Slowly, they started to turn, as if the action took a lot of brainpower to do. That was when I caught a true glimpse of how they looked. Once light tanned skin had tuned grey and brittle, full cheeks had sunk inwards and their jaws were smeared with blood and loose hanging flesh. Their hair was matted with blood with some clumps which seemed to have fallen out. Their clothes were ripped and torn, stained with blood and dirt. What got me the most though, were their eyes. Once bright blue, grey and green, they were now bloodshot and milked over, as if they were blind. These were not our siblings, these were monsters.
"Ben, we have to leave," I whispered, speaking for the first time to my brother. My instincts were started to take over and I needed to get both him and myself out of this place before our siblings pounced on us. I knew my brother was still frozen in fear, but we had no choice in the matter. We needed to leave. Now.
I started first by moving one of my legs back, hoping that the action would make Ben realize what I was planned to do. Luckily he did as he shuffled back a bit, which gave me enough room to slide my other leg back as well. Our siblings were still staring at us, their growls low as if they were trying to find our scent. We were almost at the back door when Ben's foot accidently hit a discarded beer bottle. The bottle rolled over the tilted floor, the sound echoed through the house until it hit the edge of the counter. Almost immediately, our siblings had come to attention, their growls and snarls grew louder and panic set in.
"Jo…" my brother whimpered in fight, his hands tugged at my tank top and instinctively, I reached for the handgun that I kept on me. The gun was part of my protection due to my job, so it was legal for me to have, plus, I am authorized to have guns with me as part of my hunter's license.
"I know, Ben…" I murmured softly and clicked the safety off the gun. As much as I hated the thought of pulling a gun on my family, I didn't want them to attack us. I took a quick glance behind me, and noticed that we were near the back door. When I turned back around, I couldn't help but jerk backwards when I saw how close our siblings now were. My heart leapt into my throat as I watched their forms stagger towards us, their limp arms started to raise, reaching out.
"Jo!" Ben cried out when I felt a jerk on my shirt. I turned around and without thinking I pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the house as my brother's body slammed back into me, his face pressed into my back as he cried and trembled. I was already down onto one knee and pulled Ben close. I pressed his head into my neck as I looked at our siblings and pulled the trigger four times. Each one hitting its mark, right between their eyes.
"You're safe, honey. I got you," I reassured my brother as I held him tight to me. I ran a hand through his hair and rocked him from side to side. I let him cry against me, and I held onto him as if he was my lifeline. I took a moment to look up, to see who I had shot and who had grabbed my brother and froze.
It was our father.
He was just as mangled and decayed as our siblings, and from the way his guts seemed to hang out, he hadn't been our father for a long time.
I knew what Ben and I had to do, knew where we had to go. I gently tilted my brother's head up, seeing as he was no longer sobbing and tapped his nose. "I know this isn't the time, little man, but we have to pack some food from here. Go to the linen closet and grab some pillowcases. We need to pack as much as we can before we go home," I explained, wiping the tears from his eyes. I put the safety on again and slipped the gun back into its holster.
Ben looked at me in horror at what I was suggesting, but I knew something was going on. "I know what you're thinking Ben, but trust me on this. Something has happened while we were camping and those… things that I shot? They weren't our family anymore," I informed him gently and motioned to the house. "This house, it isn't safe, we don't know what else could be here. We need to get back to the farm, but we need to bring food that won't spoil on us. We'll stay at the farm for now, just until we can come up with another plan of action." With that, I kissed his forehead gently after he nodded his head. He understood what I was told him and even though he was reluctant to, he did as I asked.
While he gathered the cases, I began going through the food that we would need, and set them out on the counter, after I cleared it off. I did my best to not look at the lifeless bodies of our family members, and I tried to block out the smell in the house too. Once Ben returned, we packed the food from the cupboards and I found some bottled water to take with us. We packed everything into my green Jeep Patriot before we left. The drive from the city felt longer than usual as we headed towards the family farm. Ben found a broadcast over the radio that explained to us what was going on.
Apparently, two weeks ago, or so, the entire world became infected by some kind of 'virus' -as the government put it- but no one knew what caused it or how it ended up spreading worldwide. We were told that this virus was bringing the dead back to life and that the CDC's across the world, were looking into a way to 'cure' this virus. It was a repeated message that my brother and I soon turned off since hearing it over and over again was doing nothing to help our already frazzled nerves. We drove in silence for the rest of the trip and made it back to the farm before the sun had set.
The familiarity of the farm brought me back to the reality that Ben and I were the only remaining members of our family alive. It also reminded me that I had, quite literally, shot five members of my family through the head, even if they weren't technically our family anymore. This realization caused my stomach to churn violently. It was a good thing I had already put my jeep into park, because I scrambled out of the driver's seat. I just made it onto the ground when everything I ate within the past day spilt from my stomach. I don't know how long I knelt on the ground, gagging on the remnants of bile that was stuck in my throat.
"Shit…" the curse came out immediately as I sat back on my knees. I spat out the remaining bits that were left there and grabbed an old handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my mouth off. "Just… shit."
I was crying as well. I only just noticed that when I went to rub my eyes. From behind, two sets of arms wrapped around my neck and I instinctually moved the body behind me to my lap. I held Ben close to me, resting my chin upon his head. I made a promise right then and there that I was never going to let anything happen to my brother. I was going to keep him safe and I was going to make sure that he saw through this nightmare. If it was the last thing that I did for him, it would be that.
For one month, Ben and I lived at the farm, and wondered if there were any other survivors, besides us. I didn't want to risk going to the other farms in the area, just in case it was overrun, or if the owners would end up shooting us on sight. It was a risk I wouldn't take. Unfortunately, I started to notice that a wave of the dead -or as Ben and I called them: 'Flesh-Dolls'- had been coming closer to our farm. I mentioned this to Ben one morning as I made breakfast for the two of us and I brought up the suggestion of us leaving our farm to go look for other survivors. Together, we decided to go down south, maybe even cross the border into the States to see if we could find any one else who was alive and in their right mind.
We packed my jeep up with provisions, medical supplies -of the natural kind-, water, hunting gear, extra tanks of gas and clothes. The clothes that we took were from our brothers and father. Even though I was the eldest of the kids, my brothers towered over me. They took after our father who was over six feet and they were all built solid thanks to working on the farm and hunting. Their clothes would easily fit my feminine frame and they would also be good for my brother to have as he continued to grow. I made sure to pack extra blankets that my brother and I could use, as well as some of the herbal remedies that our mother made to for washing.
Ben took care of packing the jeep, which allowed me time to go through our father's armoury. I took what I thought would be most useful to my brother and I: the arrows for our bows, the extra bows from my father and brothers, ammunition for my gun, and a couple of rifles, in case we needed to use them and the ammunition for them. I didn't know what we would need, as I didn't know what to expect, so I made sure we were at least prepared. Once everything was packed, I left a note to whoever else found refuge in our home, explaining to them where everything was before wishing them safety this new world.
Took us almost two weeks to find people who were alive. That was when we met the people at the quarry. After we passed through the abandoned checkpoint between the US and Canadian border, I had started to lose hope of finding anyone. But it was only after some luck and after we had stopped for a small break that I noticed tire marks on the ground, that headed into the valley. Ben and I got back into my jeep and we followed the tracks into the valley, then came up to the camp. What greeted us there, when we got out of the jeep was a cocked shotgun aimed at me. Though it wasn't completely unexpected, it still irritated me. The one wielding the shotgun was the self-dubbed leader, an obnoxious man called Shane Walsh. The man demanded we tell them who we were, what we were doing there and how we found them before he blew my head off. If it weren't for a woman named Lori Grimes, Ben and I probably would have been dead. She came in between Shane and I, telling the man to calm down and that he should be happy that there were more survivors. It was only with great reluctance that Shane did what she asked.
It took a while, but eventually we were welcomed into the group. It was mainly thanks to Lori that things had gone smoothly. She had been on our side from the start and she stuck with us when Shane tried his hardest to send us away. What truly cemented our stay was when a couple of the kids in the group got sick. I ended up making something for them to help with the illness, which revealed to the group that I was a healer. I became useful after that and whenever someone felt sick or someone got hurt, they would always come to me.
The people of the quarry were interesting folk. Ben and I spent the first couple of days getting to know them. There was Lori Grimes and her son Carl, Shane Walsh, Jim, Dale, Glenn, T-Dog, Jacqui, Andrea and Amy, Carol, Sophia and Ed Peletier, Morales and his family and a few other families that kept to themselves mainly. There was one family that both intrigued me and caused problems for me: The Dixon brother. Merle and Daryl Dixon were as red as rednecks could be. Together they were irrational assholes who only thought about their own devices. When they were apart, Merle was an arrogant, racist, sexist pig who tried everything in his power to get a rise out of people. Daryl could be different than his brother when he was alone. He was closed off most of he time, but one of the nice things about the younger Dixon was that he could be civil and reasoned with.
If I wasn't butting heads with Shane Walsh, I was butting my heads with the Dixons. At least with the younger Dixon, the two of us had -begrudgingly- mutual respect for each other's skills in hunting. There were times that he and I even made a game out of it, to see who brought back the better kill. With Shane though, I had a very big problem with his alpha male 'my way or the highway' persona. I didn't take to people trying to dominate me, or thinking that they knew better than I did when it came to my job. I often mouthed back at him, especially when I found him utterly infuriating. On more than one occasion, I have punched both Shane and Merle in the face for trying to get too 'friendly' with me.
Despite those small problems, I fell into a comfortable routine. After I spent time getting to know the people in the group and settling into my new environment and designated role as healer, I started falling into some of my old habits. One of them was swimming in the early mornings, and another was taking Ben out into the woods for a day or two and teaching him how to hunt. We have shared some of our provisions with the group, but I kept the majority of what we had a secret. I didn't need anyone trying to get into my jeep to take our stuff without Ben or I knowing. Plus, I still didn't trust the group that much to tell them about the guns we had, or the food we kept for when we really needed it. Most of our supplies though were ingredients for my medicines and ointments, so I really didn't need anyone going through my supplies. Especially in case we needed them for an emergency.