AN: Salutations, people of the internet. Before I start, I just wanna say I'm kinda obsessed with making transparents and I've been making so many for the story already. Ugh. I need to go to an AA type meeting but for people who are obsessed with picture editing.

Chapter 3: Temporary Home.

The scene beyond the window played out like a fairy tale; glittery lights dawning the fence around a wide open field engulfed a group of people chanting along to an old folks tale.

It was wondrous, I'll admit.

My gaze fell to my feet; a long sheer dress piled around me on the floor and continued up all the way to my collarbone. The edges of the fabric had a lace design that intricately continued around the hems of my sleeves and base of the dress. The white cloth seemed to fit me perfectly and gosh, did it feel good to look presentable again.

Long blades of grass began to sway in the grass, large gusts of wind and the whistling of the foliage urging my forwards to the group and into a chant. We skipped and spun in circles, admiring the sky and all it's clear glory until up ahead a large, thunderous cloud appeared. Within seconds, it seemed as though the noise drew Walkers to our exact location. The boom and shudder of the thunder took no time in growing octaves louder in order to draw the attention of the Walkers, stalking about the grass and towards us.

The once happy-looking group was now being ambushed, pushing up against one another until the pushing became too much. Once again, I found myself on my ass, pulling on anything to help me up to a standing position and in defence mode.

No one took note of the body on the floor, desperately asking for help. Pleading, actually. It was as if I was stuck to the ground and it was impossible to be heard, yet the air was silent, save the gnarling Walkers.

"Robyn!" My name. Someone was calling my name! I shifted my head in all different directions until I saw a familiar looking face not too far off in the distance, crouched between the tree line and the field, gun in hand. The hat this man wore sat idly on his head, tucking away any loose hairs and hiding any other facial features I could deem recognizable. His bulky build set off an alarm in my head, and all of a sudden I felt the urge to jump up and run towards him, heart beating wildly.

How was it I couldn't budge? Let alone speak? No matter how hard I tried, no matter how surreal this felt, I couldn't muster up enough energy to move. The person was calling me and I needed to get to him.

"Robyn! Robyn, open your eyes. Robyn!" The name now came pounding in all directions; left, right, centre. It was an endless symphony of my name in a deep, husky voice and I knew who's it was. But, now, I couldn't put a voice to a face. Everything was focusing in and out of my vision quicker than I could think. I wanted to shout out, get the fading to stop. I needed to run away from my death and to the tree line. But every force was keeping me down.

"Robyn! Robyn! Robyn!" Beyond my view, the Walkers began plummeting to the floor one by one the sound of bullet shots ringing through the air and terrorized screams filling whatever void that noise didn't. Seconds later, the scene was quiet and a man stood above me with a dirty shirt and cap still covering his eyes. More people arrived, all with hats covering their features.

The first man bent down next to me and nudged my shoulder once. Twice. Three times. He repeatedly nudged me until it turned to shaking just as the entire group came together, saying my name in a chorus.

"I missed you, Lil' Bird. It's time to wake up now." Lil' Bird? Who calls me Lil' Bir-? Oh no.

Everyone's faces started to fade to black, or maybe it was just my vision, but everything was quickly disappearing before me quicker than it had arrived. I fought to keep my eyes open just a little longer but with no luck, I collapsed back to the ground, head spinning. Robyn. Robyn. Robyn.

"Robyn... She's awake, I know it. C'mon, girl, you're just having a bad dream." Nudging and shaking and nudging and shaking, Maggie tried in earnest to wake me from my stupor and apparently had been for the past twenty minutes.

I jolted from my sleep and shot up from my position on the bed, sitting upright a little too fast. "Christ, what the hell happened? How do you know my nam- where the hell am I?" There was no field, no Walkers, no... mystery group. Just a room. My surroundings were different compared to what they had been ten minutes ago. I was placed in a quaint room with blue and orange checkered sheets over my waist, lace curtains shielding the morning sun and my bags and clothes stacked neatly on a table.

"You lost consciousness just as Otis came to pick us up," Ah, Otis. That's the name. "And you're at my family's farm. You've been knocked out for over twenty-four hours and once I heard you bustlin' about, I got worried and tried to wake you up." It was nice of her to worry, I guess. I wasn't expecting that after what happened last night.

Maggie went on to explain how her father, Hershel, had stitched me up after I managed to give myself a gnarly cut on the back of my neck and around my ear. She also took note of my perplexed look at the neat pile of clothes on the table, apologizing for giving me so much information at once.

"We took the liberty of cleaning your clothes. Mostly because they smelt god awful and, out of precaution, we had to search your bag. We didn't take anything. All I saw was a photo of someone named Tyler and Robyn, and assumed you must've been Robyn."

Out of precaution. Right. They thought I was coming in to murder them or had some bomb set up in my bag. The latter wasn't true, though the former was before I knew they were actual people and not a bunch of flesh eating humans. I nodded gingerly, heart beating a little faster at the mention of Tyler's name while my fingers ghost over the bumpy scars and other minor scratches I had acquired since last night. Wait, sorry, twenty-four plus hours ago.

"Yeah. Uh, yeah, that's fine. Thank you." No matter if we got off on the wrong foot, I was grateful to Maggie and her family for taking me in instead of being left as Walker bait. That was possibly the nicest thing anyone has done to me in what seems like a while.

She got up and pointed me in the direction of the bathroom, saying that I was more than welcome to wash up and join the others for breakfast. Others. There were more people. Another group. The thought of company made me smile and for a second I was happy until I realized I knew no one except Maggie. My group was gone, Tyler was gone and here I was, all alone again worrying about who would try to 'off' me in my sleep.

What I was worried about the most was not the amount of people I had yet to meet, but how many would try to break the walls down. Y'know, those mental and emotional walls you set up. The ones you built so as not to hurt yourself again but were always broken by someone at one point or another because you were tricked into believing you could trust them.

My mind wandered off to other things, making myself believe that if I thought of other topics, this one would soon be forgotten. But as I locked myself in the bathroom, I sure as hell didn't want to come out. I wanted to stay in there with my morbid and depressing thoughts.

It took quite the bit of courage to finally realize I was being rude to my hosts. They should at least know who is staying with them instead of having her hiding in the bathroom possibly plotting to kill them all and steal their supplies. Though I'd never do that, I wouldn't be surprised if they did, in fact, think that for a split second.

I traipsed down the stairs and took in the sight before me; the house had a country-ranch style to it. Beautifully matured hardwood floors, antique furniture I'm sure had been passed down from generation to generation and the same curtains throughout the house. It was easy to get lost in a house like this, but luckily I managed to wander into the living room which opened out into the dining room. An older looking man, Hershel I suppose, with the whitest and tidiest of hair sat on the arm of the living room couch assessing the morning paper. Next to him was a younger looking girl, in her late teens, speaking animatedly and pointing at a picture of a long-legged woman. It must've been from a while ago, seeing as I'm sure they don't produce newspapers anymore.

A little further along into the dining room I spotted Maggie and another man who I was certain could be Otis. Or maybe he was Hershel. From the corner of her eye, she saw me move and got up immediately, a wide smiled plastered to her face.

"Robyn!" She was a little too peppy this early in the morning for my liking. Never being the morning person myself, I forced a small smile as everyone in the room turned to look at me.

The man by the couch was the first to speak and welcome me to the temporary home. "You had quite the fall there, miss. Four stitches but the gash wasn't very deep." As polite he could be, he placed his hand outstretched between the two of us, indicating I should shake it. "My name is Hershel Green."

"I'm Beth," the younger girl spoke up. She stepped from behind Hershel and waved, her blonde hair glistening in the sun that shone from the large window.

Hershel chuckled and pulled Beth into his side. "These are my daughters, Beth and Maggie. I see you've already met her and Otis," he pointed to the man standing by the dinner table, offering a small smile. "Patricia and Otis should be in momentarily."

"Yeah. It's nice to meet y'all. How can I ever repay you for all the trouble I've put ya through?" My question was waved off by Hershel, gesturing to the table of food.

"For now, it's fine. We'll get you back on your feet and I'm sure you'll be on your way."

Ah, I was right. I knew I would never join or be accepted into the group. I was only a passerby and this was my fate. To wander until I could find lone survivors as driven and furious as I am.

Just then, the front door opened and in came a woman no older than 45 and a teenage boy around Beth's age, each holding a woven sack with feathers sticking out every which way. "Speaking of the devil. Patricia, Jimmy, this is Robyn; the guest who's been upstairs."

From Jimmy I received a tip of the cowboy hat and from Patricia and polite nod and squeaky hello. They both sat down on either side of Beth and dug into the steaming food placed on the table before silently saying grace individually.

The table remained quiet the majority of the time except for the occasional slurp of juice or scraping of plates, and to be honest, for once I didn't enjoy the silence. Hershel got the message the second we made eye contact. Almost immediately the table was in full swing, chattering away.

Beth was idly playing with Jimmy's fingers before she decided to question me. I'm sure she was excited that someone new was here and couldn't help herself. "Where were you before all of this, Robyn? Like, where'd you come from, what happened after, how did you survi-"

"Beth, she just woke up. Give her some time," Maggie whispered, giving her sister a kick under the table.

"It's fine," I said with a reassuring tone and wide smile. If I was going to be here, they may as well know who they're dealing with. "I grew up in King County, forty minutes from Atlanta. I was in Valdosta at the time when all of this hit. My first thought was to take my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, with all our supplies and head up to Macon. That's where my sister lived. We were headed on a long, and impossible, journey to King County. My entire life was there, y'know, and I'd be damned if I couldn't save anyone. Of course, my parents were there, but there were also other people I- Nevermind. Needless to say I never got to say goodbye to them. Anyways, on the way to King County we were ambushed in Forsyth and almost didn't make it. It was.. the rest is history after that. I was with a group and they all.. they all died in the end."

I hadn't realized I was stabbing at my eggs the entire time I spoke. Everyone stayed quiet as though not to disturb the awful silence.

Instead of pitying me, like I knew they would, Maggie placed her hand atop my arm and squeezed it gently, getting a smile in return. "Well you're here now."

The rest of the table went back to eating. Beth was the first one down from the table, clearing up the dishes and immediately washing them up. I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment from the look on her face. She looked too upset to be left alone.

"Hey, Beth, can I talk to you?" I inquired. Plates were stacked up precariously atop one another on the counter beside her almost daring to topple over.

"I-I'm sorry. You didn't have to- you never said goodbye. You lost everyone you love and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to have you bring it up." Beth wiped at her nose with the edge of her sleeve before continuing with the dishes, refusing to break contact with the silverware.

I thought she was upset with my answer. Maybe she was expecting some big story about how I stayed holed up inside my apartment until zombies busted the doors down and forced me out of hiding. And maybe she expected me to be a sword-wielding zombie hunter.

"It's not your fault. I figured if I'm going to be here a while, you might as well get to know me." Silence filled the awkward gap when she didn't respond. I folded my arms, spun around and leaned on the edge of the kitchen counter beside Beth. "Y'know, I really like it here. And you guys, you guys seem pretty alright."

A minute, sarcastic scoff emitted from her tiny body, shaking her head as she cleared up the last of the cutlery. "Pretty alright? Well, I like you, too. Maggie and everyone else does as well, so I kinda hope you stay a lil' while longer."

"Tell that to your dad." I laughed, patting her on the shoulder and making my way out to join everyone on the porch.

AN: Holy shitnuggets. That took a little longer to write than expect but hey ho, I did it. You don't understand how many times I had to rewrite 'Lil' Bird' because stupid auto correct kept changing it to 'Lol Bird'. No, autocorrect, this bird is not funny just yet.

Any who, I hope it's not too long but leave a review and tell me what you think. Xx