Ah hello!

I don't even know why I'm posting another chapter so soon but whatever, here you are! It's a bit longer than the previous chapters lol. I'm also half asleep so I apologize if there are a few grammatical errors.

I do not own the Walking Dead, only my OC.

Three weeks later

It was everywhere. On her face, in her hair, in her mouth, on her clothes, on her bat, on the floor; there wasn't a surface on her body that wasn't untouched. A simple run in the early morning to the corner store across town had gone the absolute worst it could have possibly gone. Well, she wasn't dead, so maybe not the absolute worst.

There had been so many, the most she had ever seen. A whole wave of them had come around the corner and had taken her by surprise. Luckily, the infected could only jog, while she had the privilege of being able to run. She had lost them a few blocks away and had made it back to her home in one piece. Of course, that didn't come without bashing a few heads in and almost getting bitten. While she might have been covered in blood, she was beyond thankful that she had decided to put in her own propane system into the house. It had been extremely expensive, but well worth it. Meaning that she could still have a shower even with the gas lines around town being down.

When she finally got into the shower to wash off all the blood, Scarlett came to the conclusion that she had left too early in the morning. From what she had observed over the past few weeks, she came to understand that the infected were more active at night. She had also learned within the first few days of being at the house alone that she couldn't kill any of the infected unless she aimed for the head. At the thought of their biting teeth and yellowish eyes, Scarlett quickly checked her body for any signs of scratches or bites. When she came up with nothing, she got out of the shower and dried herself off.

Going into her bedroom, Scarlett threw on a black tank top and a dark green button up with some jeans. She stared at her open drawer and paused as the reality hit her like a train.

Her sister wouldn't be coming back here.

Scarlett had already stayed an extra week longer in the hopes that she'd see a sign of Victoria. Occasionally, the image of her sister appearing at their front door would interrupt the elder's endless nightmares with a false happiness until she woke up to yet another nightmare. Playing the waiting game had destroyed Scarlett internally, always keeping her hopes up that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that Victoria would knock at her door.

Tears filled her eyes and Scarlett allowed them to fall freely, knowing that she needed to get out of the godforsaken place that she called home. It had poisoned her mental health enough over the years and she needed to move on. Grabbing a pack, she threw in a change of clothes and grabbed one of the framed pictures of the sisters off the wall, tearing the actual image out of the frame and placing it in her pocket. Looking through the rest of the house, Scarlett managed to grab what little food she had left, along with a pack of batteries, a flashlight, a lighter, a Swiss army knife, a large knife, her first aid kit, a map, a portable water filter, two water bottles, a deck of cards, and her notepad with all her notes. She strapped the gun Shane had given her to her waist and threw Stella over her shoulder, knowing that she should probably leave sooner or later to get the most sunlight as possible during her travels.

As she was about to turn the lock on the door, a thought made itself known in her head. Scarlett dropped her gear and walked back into the living room in search of a piece of paper, finding a few meaningless bills piled off to the side. Quickly grabbing one along with a pen, she scribbled down a few words before throwing the pen in her sack and placing the note on the kitchen counter.

Tori,

Heading to Atlanta, hopefully I'll see you there.

Love,

Scarlett

While rather simple, Scarlett couldn't bring herself to write anything more. Grabbing her pack once again and taking her bat within her grip, she opened the door and left the house for the last time. Regardless, she still locked the door before heading down the street.

A few swings of Stella and multiple dead infected later, Scarlett somehow ended up in the neighbourhood of the Grimes residence. A sadness washed over her and began eating her from the inside out as her eyes began to water once again. The isolation was truly getting to her now. While it was one thing to stay inside away from the world alone, it was another to come outside and still be alone. The feeling was horrid, one of the worst she'd ever felt. She let the end of her bat make contact with the road as she felt her body begin to shake. Scarlett felt the need to wash her hands and she considered going back to the house, but she saw something that made her stop.

Someone was sitting out front of the Grimes house dressed in white. It was hard to make out if it was one of the infected or someone healthy. While the person didn't look exactly healthy, the curiosity got the better of her as she slowly but carefully walked down the street in the hopes of getting a better look.

When she finally realized who it was, Scarlett felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. However, it couldn't be who she thought it was, no matter how much she wanted to believe it was him. In her moment of disbelief, she failed to see a small form approaching the man from behind. Before she could get a word out of her mouth, a shovel was swung at the man's face and he was knocked back against the ground.

"Daddy! Daddy!" The kid holding the shovel yelled "Daddy, I got this som' bitch! Imma smack him dead!"

Scarlett's eyes traveled over in the direction in which the kid was yelling to see a much older man approach a nearby walker and shoot a bullet into its head. Without even thinking, Scarlett jogged over to where the kid was in the hopes of getting a look at the man that had been hit with the shovel. When she heard the chamber of a gun being reloaded, she froze in her stride and turned to see the older man pointing his smoking gun in her direction.

"Who the hell are you?" The man demanded, but Scarlett's gaze landed back on the fallen man and getting a good look at his face. It really was him.

"I'm a friend of the man your son just knocked out." Scarlett explained calmly, holding up her hands with her bat still in her fist.

"Carl…Carl, I found you." Her friend mumbled to the son, who looked even more distraught than before.

"Did he just say something to you?" The father rushed over to his son, his gun still pointed at Scarlett.

"He called me Carl."

"Son, you know they don't talk," the man said as he looked down at Scarlett's fallen friend. "Hey mister. What's the bandage for?"

"He got shot." Scarlett answered as the man pointed his gun back at her.

"I wasn't asking you."

"Well the man just got hit over the fucking head so I doubt he'll be able to answer any questions," she spit without realizing her anger. "I'm a friend of his. If you let me, I'll take him into the house and show you the wound."

The man stared at her for a long second before turning his attention back to Rick and pointing the gun at his face.

"Answer me or I will shoot you."

Scarlett watched as Rick looked down the barrel of the gun only for his eyes to cross and close as his head fell back against the pavement.

"Please, let me show you he's fine," Scarlett begged, placing her bat on the ground along with her gun. "I need to change his bandages. Please, please give me a chance."

Pointing the gun back at her, the man gave her a cold look. Scarlett couldn't read him all that well, so any chance of her being able to tell if the conversation was working in her favour was a lost cause. A sharp exhale left the man's mouth before he looked at his son.

"Grab the bat and the gun from her. Knock her out if she tries anything," he said as the younger boy came forward and took her things. "You, mam', are gonna help me carry him to our shelter a few houses down, okay?"

Scarlett nodded profusely, slowly making her way up onto the lawn and grabbing a hold of Rick's feet while the man grabbed his shoulders.

"One, two, three."

Carrying Rick a few doors over wasn't that difficult, but it was a matter of getting him up the stairs that the task became challenging. Without managing to drop him, the three of them brought him into one of the bedrooms and placed him on the bed. The young boy continued to point Scarlett's gun at her while the father returned with rope and began tying up Rick by each limb. She knew it wasn't necessary, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Alright, you get to cleaning his wound," the man said once he had finished his work. "We'll be here watching."

"My first aid kit is in my bag, may I grab it?" Scarlett asked carefully, pointing to the pack on her back. The man gave her an odd look.

"Yeah, sure."

Scarlett nodded, setting her pack on the floor before slowly unzipping it and pulling out what she needed. Once in her hands, she slowly moved over to Rick's side and placed the first aid kit on the side table.

"Could you grab me a bowl of warm water and a cloth, please?" She asked, opening up the kit to look at its contents.

She heard the son place her bat on the floor before leaving the room, the sound of water running reaching her tired ears. Grabbing the rubbing alcohol, she unwrapped a few bandages just in time for the young boy to return with the water and cloth she had asked for.

"Thank you." Scarlett smiled at the son before turning back to Rick.

Rinsing her hands quickly in the bowl before slowly taking off Rick's bandages, she was glad that she would be changing the bandage. The entire thing was covered in new and old blood, meaning the bacteria levels were most likely high over the wound.

"I'm going to clean it with some water first, that way you can see the wound without all the dried blood in the way." Scarlett explained as she reached for the cloth and dipped it into the lukewarm water.

The father and son remained quiet as she cleaned away at her friend's wound. It wasn't looking as horrible as she had imagined it to, images still flashing in her brain of all the blood there had been there when he had first gotten shot. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"Here, come take a look," Scarlett said after a few minutes and the man slowly approached her. "The overall wound is circular, while if it were a bite or scratch is would be more jagged. Plus, you would see the nail or teeth marks in the flesh around it. Those characteristics are absent in this wound."

The man continued to be quiet as he looked down at the injury, analyzing every gruesome detail just to be careful.

"You said you were a friend," the man began. "How'd he get shot?"

"I'd tell you, but you're going to ask him the same question when he wakes up anyways," Scarlett said, the corner of her mouth turning up at the man. "Can I redress his wound now?"

The man stared at her quizzically for a moment before nodding his head at her request. Quickly getting to work, Scarlett soaked the first bandage in alcohol and placed it on the injury, followed by another layer of wrappings just to be safe. This was Rick she was dealing with and she wouldn't be losing him again.

"What's your name?" The man asked as she took the cloth and wiped away at the blood on Rick's nose.

"Scarlett," she answered simply. "Yourself?"

"Morgan," he replied before nodding a head at the younger boy. "This's my son, Dwayne."

"Nice to meet the both of you," Scarlett said, finally looking up at the father and son. "This is the first sort of human contact I've had for weeks."

"You're on your own?"

"Yeah, was my choice," she explained, looking down at her hands. "It was the wrong one."

"Well, you found your friend, right?" Dwayne said suddenly, causing Scarlett's gaze to shift to the young boy.

"I suppose you're right." She smiled at him and he returned it shyly.

Scarlett's tired eyes shifted back to Rick's unconscious form and looked down at his pale face. A part of her believed everything to be a dream, knowing that good things didn't come without the bad. This equalizing bad might have already happened as she recalled her horrible run to the corner store earlier in the day. She quickly shook the feeling away, happy that she was seeing the soft rise and fall of Rick's chest that had been supposedly absent a month ago.

A part of her family had been restored, and Scarlett decided not to question it any further.

"We should make sure we have the place locked down before the night comes," Morgan spoke up and she turned her attention back to the man. "You stay here with him, just incase he wakes up."

"Are you sure? I can help with things if you need the extra hand." Scarlett questioned.

"That's alright," Morgan said as he urged his son to follow him to the door of the bedroom. "I'll close the door behind us. We can hear everything in this house, just so you know."

Scarlett raised her eyebrows at the second-hand threat but was also grateful that he was confident enough in her to leave her alone without supervision.

"You know I'm not stupid enough to try anything, right?" She asked as the corner of her lips twitched upwards.

"I would hope not." Morgan answered, his face lacking humour, though Scarlett swore she saw a soft twinkle in the older man's eyes as he closed the door behind him and his son.

While they had taken her gun, they had left her Stella. Placing the bloody cloth on the dresser to her right, Scarlett slowly walked over and grabbed ahold of the bat. The blood on the end of her bat had begun crusting over the metal surface and Scarlett decided that she would deal with the mess later. She had noticed the blood on her own hands as well and quickly made her way over to the water bowl, where she rubbed her hands free of the red substance. Afterwards, she wandered over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down, leaning Stella against the arm of the chair. She listened to the sounds of Morgan and Dwayne downstairs while her eyes remained on Rick. As she felt her thoughts shifting to that of the fate of her sister, her eyelids grew heavy and her muscles relaxed as sleep washed over her tired body.

Scarlett had woken up to the sound of the bedroom door opening, unaware of how long she had slept or where she was. Morgan's familiar face along with his son's had calmed the panic that had risen in her chest. The room was dark and the only source of light was coming from the lantern in Morgan's hand. The father and son quietly walked into the room, lighting tea lights and placed them around the bedroom.

"You've been out for hours," Morgan commented as he placed a light beside Rick's bed. "Came to check on you a half hour after you'd gotten here and you were fast asleep."

"I guess I needed the rest." Scarlett mumbled, her voice a bit hoarse as she sat further in her chair.

Morgan had moved over to the bowl of dirty water and grabbed the blood-soaked rag; dropping the cloth into the water before letting out a huff of air.

"We cooked up a can of food," he began, his eyes still looking into the contents of the bloody bowl. "You may eat with us if you like."

A bit surprised by his offer, Scarlett attempted to find the right words to say. Once they were in her mouth and ready to be said, her eyes shifted over to Dwayne. He was holding his own wooden bat and staring down at Rick's body, his body language much too tense for idol chitchat.

Scarlett followed his gaze as her eyes fell on Rick's face; his blue eyes glassy as they looked around the room before they finally met hers.

"Scarlett?"

Her face split into a wide grin as her eyes began to water, seeing him alive and breathing hitting her hard. She couldn't bring herself to say anything in response, afraid that her voice would weaver and lead her to break down crying.

"She got that bandage changed now. It was pretty rank," Morgan said, turning his attention to Rick, who returned his gaze. "What was it? The wound."

Scarlett remained quiet, knowing that she would have to let Rick answer Morgan's questions if he wanted to get out of those restraints.

"Gunshot." Rick answered slowly, his voice rough as he looked at the ropes that kept him tied to the bed.

"Gunshot? What else? Anything?"

"Gunshot ain't enough?"

While Scarlett knew where Rick was coming from, she also knew that a gunshot was nowhere near bad enough as getting attacked by walkers. She watched as Morgan walked over to Rick's bedside, his pointed gaze sharp.

"Look, I ask and you answer. It's common courtesy right?" he said to Rick before bringing his face closer to her friend's. "Did you get bit?"

Seeing as though she hadn't seen any bites on his body, Scarlett had a feeling he was bite free. However, you could never be too careful in asking the question anyways.

"Bit?" Rick asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Bit, chewed, maybe scratched. Anything like that? "Morgan pushed.

"No, I got shot," Rick said as his eyes quickly flicked over in Scarlett's direction. "Just shot as far as I know."

Morgan stared down at him for a long moment before slowly reaching up to place his hand on Rick's forehead, only for the man to sink further back into the pillow.

"Rick, it's okay," Scarlett spoke up as he looked over at her once again. "He just wants to check for a fever."

The sheriff shifted his eyes between Scarlett and Morgan in uncertainty, but ultimately let Morgan place his hand on his forehead. After feeling his temperature with the palm and back of his hand, he turned his attention to both Dwayne and her.

"Feels cool enough," he said as he slowly peeled his hand back from Rick's forehead. "The fever would have killed you by now."

"I don't think I have one." Rick stated as Scarlett walked over to the end of his bed, Morgan watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"It would be hard to miss," she said as she looked at both men, remembering the symptoms back at the hospital. "The body heats up like a furnace, like you're cooking from the inside out. He's fine, Morgan, and a good man too. He won't do anything stupid."

Morgan looked in her direction before letting out a sigh, turning his attention back to Rick as he bent closer to him, pulling out a switch blade from his pocket.

"Take a moment. Look at how sharp it is," he said to Rick, the blade only inches from his face. "You try anything, I will kill you with it and don't you think I won't."

While Scarlett frowned at the threat, she watched as Morgan slowly began cutting Rick free of his restraints. First the hands, and then the feet, Rick rubbed at the rope burn around his wrists before looking at Morgan.

"Come on out when you're able," Morgan said to him as he walked to the door with Dwayne at his side. "Come on."

Once the father and son had left the room, Scarlett had gone over to Rick's side to look at his face. While he still rubbed at his wrists, he gave her a weak smile.

"It's nice to see a familiar face." Rick mumbled and she let out a quick laugh as her eyes had begun watering once again.

"Same here," Scarlett said as she placed a hand on his head. "We thought you were done for. Like Morgan said, I did change your bandage. It looks a lot better than I thought it would."

"Thank you Scarlett." He said as he placed his own hand on her head as well, which made them both chuckle softly.

"Let me get you a blanket before I help you sit up," she said, moving over to the closet and throwing it open. "I believe dinner is waiting downstairs. You could use some food in you."

After digging in the closet for a few moments, Scarlett found a soft cream blanket and swiftly walked over to softly place the fabric at the foot of the bed before turning her attention back to Rick.

"Alright, let's get you up," she mumbled, grabbing a hold of one of Rick's arms and placing a hand behind his shoulder. "One, two, three."

With a slow but strong pull, Scarlett got Rick up into the sitting position but not without noticing the grimace that shot across his face. Her eyes shifted to his bandage with the fear that his wound might have started bleeding, but there was no sign of the bodily fluid on the wrappings. Rick was able to move his legs off the bed and to the bedroom floor without much pain evident on his face.

"I can probably do this myself, you know." Rick said, raising an eyebrow in Scarlett's direction.

"Well, Mr. Grimes, considering that you've been shot, woken up from a coma, are underfed, and have been hit over the head with a shovel," Scarlett listed off before pausing as she wrapped the blanket around him. "I think I have a bit of a right to be babying you."

"Does kind of seem like I have a target on the back of my head." Rick grunted as he carefully stood up from his spot on the side of the bed.

Scarlett couldn't imagine what he was going through. It was bad enough that the dead were walking about and that they were in this situation to begin with, but waking up to it without realizing what had happened and having no idea where anybody was must have been absolutely terrifying. She was scared enough as it was and she wasn't even in his shoes.

Realizing that she had been staring off into space, Scarlett blinked her eyes rapidly and looked up at Rick. It was easy to tell that the man was in his own mind, trying to come to terms with it all. He didn't even know where his family was, let alone know what was going on with the world. Nobody knew.

She reached up and gave the man a hug, feeling him startle at the sudden action. He returned her embrace after a moment and the two silently stood there taking in each other's presence. They were each other's first familiar face since everything had gone to shit, and it calmed Scarlett to know that she wouldn't be in this alone anymore.

"Come on, let's head downstairs." Scarlett finally said as she broke away from the hug, walking back over to her chair and grabbing her bat before opening up the door for the both of them.

The two of them left the room and carefully made they're way down to the first floor. Scarlett could hear both Morgan and Dwayne in the kitchen, the soft sound of cutlery echoing down the hallway. When the two had spotted the both of them, the father and son duo paused for a moment. Rick tottered into the living and looked around, Scarlett following close behind him as Morgan entered through the kitchen.

"This place…Fred and Cindy Drake's?" Rick questioned and Scarlett shrugged, not knowing many people in the town by a first name basis. She remembered faces, not names.

"Never met 'em." Morgan said from the entrance to the kitchen.

"I've been here," Rick continued as he walked further into the room, looking about. "This is their place."

"It was empty when we got here."

Rick didn't answer as he wandered over to the covered up windows and stared at them for a moment. His arm reached up to move the grey material out of the way as Scarlett's voice halted his action.

"I wouldn't do that." She said quietly as he looked back at her in question.

"The young lady is right," Morgan spoke up. "They'll see the light. There's more of them out there than usual. I never should have fired that gun today."

"The sound draws them out." Scarlett stated to Rick as Morgan walked back into the kitchen.

"And now they're all over the street. Stupid, using the gun," Morgan grumbled as he moved a hot can of food around the table. "But it all happened so fast. I didn't think."

"You shot that man today." Rick stated as both him and Scarlett stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Scarlett gave him a look.

"Man?" Morgan questioned and Scarlett laughed nervously.

"Weren't no man." Dwayne said from his seat at the table.

"The hell was that out your mouth just now?" Morgan demanded and his son sank into his chair slightly.

"It wasn't a man." Dwayne corrected himself.

"You shot him in the street out front. A man." Rick stated, moving into the kitchen.

"Friend, you need glasses. It was a walker," Morgan argued, before pointing at the two unoccupied chairs at the table. "Come on, sit down. Before you fall down."

Rick cast Scarlett a glance but she gave him a slow nod of approval as she pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. The sheriff slowly followed and took a seat as Morgan put some beans on their plates.

"Daddy," Dwayne spoke up once his father had placed the food back down on the table. "Blessin."

"Yeah," Morgan said with a nod, his hand reaching out to his son's as Dwayne reached for hers. Rick gave Scarlett another look, knowing that she didn't like religion much. However, she wasn't under her own roof and was a guest, so she took both Rick and Dwayne's hands and remained quiet. Morgan and Rick were the last to join hands. "Father, we thank the for this food, thy blessings, and we ask you to watch over us in these crazy days. Amen."

The only other person to follow with a quick 'amen' of their own was Dwayne before everyone began eating. The beans were warm but sweet in Scarlett's mouth, not remembering the last time she'd actually eaten something that wasn't a granola bar. She could feel the food's warmth run all the way down into her stomach and she left out a sigh of content.

"Hey mister, do you even know what's going on?" Morgan spoke up after a moment and Rick paused mid bite to return the man's gaze. Scarlett watched silently.

"I woke up today," Rick began, giving Scarlett a look as she stared at him with wide eyes. She hadn't known he had only been awake since today. "In the hospital. Came home, that's all I know."

"You woke up from your coma today?" Scarlett questioned, staring at Rick in disbelief as he nodded his head. "I thought it had been at least a few days."

"No, today was the day."

"But you know about the dead people, right?" Morgan asked nervously.

"Yeah I saw a lot of that," Rick replied, staring off into space. "Out on the loading doc, piled in trucks-"

"I don't think he means those one's," Scarlett said softly. "Not the one's the military killed, the one's they didn't."

"The walkers," Morgan clarified as Rick looked between them. "Like the one I shot today. Cause he would've ripped into you, try to eat you, try to get some flesh at least."

Rick remained quiet, his furrowed brows telling everyone else at the table that he didn't believe them.

"I know it sounds insane, like something out of a horror movie," Scarlett explained, giving a quick shake of the head. "But we're telling the truth."

"They're out there now? In the street?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," Morgan replied, his own voice shaking slightly. "They get more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or hell maybe it's just me firing that gun today."

"I made a run to the local corner store this morning, too early that it was still somewhat dark out," Scarlett jumped in. "A whole wave of them tried to get me. I don't think it was your gun."

"But we'll be fine, as long as we stay quiet," Morgan explained. "They'll probably wander off by morning. Though listen, one thing I do know, don't you get bit. We saw your bandage and that's what we were afraid of. Bites kill you. The fever? Burns you out."

"After a while though," Scarlett said, looking down at her plate. "You come back. The symptoms are endless so it's hard to not know you've got it. Dizziness, weakness, fever, hallucinations, chills, nausea, pale skin, dilated pupils, fainting, loss of hair, dehydration, and even coughing up blood. Plus the bite, obviously."

The table remained quiet after her list of signs that came with the bite and she had only realized that all eyes were on her when she looked back up from her plate.

"I was at the hospital the day it happened," she explained. "Wave after wave of people came in with that same endless list of symptoms and no matter what treatment was given to them, nothing stopped it. I've never seen the transformation though, only the before and after."

"We've seen it happen." Dwayne said as his face immediately fell. Morgan placed a hand on his son's arm as reassurance. Scarlett couldn't help but notice the lack of a mother in the picture, so she automatically assumed that had been what the young boy was referring to.

With dinner all done and the table cleaned of dishes and cutlery, everyone moved into the living room. Morgan and Dwayne sat on an air mattress while Rick remained on another, his blanket still wrapped around him. Scarlett, on the other hand, was lying on the couch staring at the notes she had made on the pad of paper, her stomach still warm from the food

"Carl…" Morgan spoke up after almost a half hour of silence, grabbing Rick's attention. "He your son? You said his name today."

"He's a little young than your boy." Rick answered.

"And he's with his mom?" Morgan questioned.

"I hope so-"

"He was last time I saw them," Scarlett said as Rick quickly turned to look at her. "Shane took both Lori and Carl, headed to the city."

"How do you know that?" Rick asked anxiously.

"Cause they stayed at my place before they left."

"When was that?"

"Three weeks ago."

Rick stared at her with wide eyes at the information given to him, but the furrow was still in his brow.

"Why didn't you go with them?" He asked and Scarlett placed her notepad on her lap.

"Victoria was on a field trip when all hell broke loose," she explained, letting out a shaky breath of air. "I waited at home to see if she would come back, but she didn't."

"This your daughter?" Morgan asked.

"No, baby sister," she corrected. "She's sixteen."

Maybe it was because they were sensing that they were treading on thin ice or if it was the fallen look on her face, they stopped asking her questions.

"Dad?" Dwayne questioned, his voice full of sleep.

"Hey." Morgan answered, placing a hand on his son's head.

"Did you ask them?"

Morgan let out a soft but short laugh at the boy's question, causing both Rick and Scarlett to turn their attention in their direction.

"Your gun shot and the way you cleaned his wound?" Morgan said, nodding his head in their direction. "My boy and I got a bit of a bet going on. My boy say you were a bank robber and that you an army medic."

Scarlett and Rick both looked at each other as small smiles formed on the edges of their mouths.

"Yeah, that's me. Deadly as Dillinger. Kapow," Rick chuckled to himself before nodding his head in Scarlett's direction, who gave a short salute. "And this ones going into her fourth year in service."

"Paramedic." Scarlett clarified.

"Sheriff's deputy." Rick said, which caused her to let out a sigh.

"You always gotta one up me don't you?"

Both men let out a soft chuckle at the remark before everyone fell back into a comfortable silence. If anything, Scarlett had wished that it would have lasted a little longer.

The blaring sound of a car alarm going off startled the whole room, Dwayne sitting straight up in a panic at the sound while everyone turned their attention to the boarded up windows. Scarlett stood up from her spot on the couch and Rick did the same as Morgan attempted to comfort his son.

"Hey, it's okay. Daddy's here," he said to Dwayne before looking up at the both of them. "It's nothing. One of them must've bumped a car."

"You sure?" Rick asked as he approached the windows.

"It happened once before. Went off for a few minutes," Morgan said, getting up for his own spot. "Get the light Dwayne."

The young boy nodded, reaching over to the lantern to extinguish the light as Morgan joined Rick and Scarlett by the windows. Scarlett spotted another one near her and did the same thing. Morgan reached out and carefully pulled aside one of the sections of the dark fabric, the opening letting in small amount of moonlight into the room.

"It's the blue one down the street," Morgan said quietly, shifting out of the way for Rick to take a look outside. "Same one as last time. I think we're okay."

"That noise," Rick mumbled, peering out into the street. "Won't it bring more of them?"

"Nothing we can do about it now." Morgan replied as Scarlett peaked out of her own little hole in the covered windows.

The street was full of them, most of the walkers' attention remained fixed on the blaring alarm coming from the car Morgan had pointed out. They all shuffled in that same slow march that Scarlett had yet to become familiar with. She didn't leave her house much for a reason, only when she was desperate for something. Avoiding all contact with the dead was what she aimed for.

"We'll just have to wait it out till morning." She stated, still looking down the street at the hoard of walkers.

"She's here." Dwayne whispered, his voice panicked and shaky. Scarlett was confused with the statement as she looked down at the young boy. She turned her attention back out the window to see a woman dressed in a white sleeping gown, obviously a walker. Something was more unsettling about her than the others, but Scarlett assumed that the boy was afraid for a different reason.

"Don't look," Morgan informed his son, his voice shaky too. "Get away from the windows. I said go, come on."

Taking one last peek to see the woman turning her attention to the house, Scarlett watched as Dwayne ran back to their blow up mattress and began sobbing uncontrollably. Morgan quickly followed his son and sat down beside him.

"Quiet. Come on, quiet now." Morgan urged, attempting to get the boy to cry into a pillow in order to soften the noise he was making.

Scarlett had a pretty good idea of the situation now. It didn't take much to figure it out and she automatically felt her heart sink lower into her chest.

Rick was still looking through the boarded up windows at the woman. Wondering if she should pull him away, Scarlett decided to let him be. He needed to see what was out there, even if it did risk them being seen or heard.

After a moment, Rick walked away from the window and over to the front door. Following quietly behind him, she watched as he gazed through the peephole and out into the street. Scarlett could hear soft footsteps walking up the stairs onto the front porch of the house. It was ominous and unnerving, making her stomach turn over on itself.

"It's okay, cry into here." Morgan whispered to his son from the other room, quieting the boy's sobs even more.

Scarlett heard the footsteps cease on the other side of the door and watched as Rick's breathing stopped as well. She assumed the woman was just on the other side of the door, and when she heard the twisting of the doorknob, she felt ice run through her veins.

How the walker knew how to fiddle with a doorknob was beyond Scarlett. She was thankful that they had put up extra planks on the door than what she would do at her own home.

Both quite freaked out, Scarlett and Rick returned to their spots in the living room. Dwayne's sobs had stopped, though his head still remained under the pillow in Morgan's lap. Scarlett grabbed the blanket she had and wrapped it around herself as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

"She, uh. She died in the other room on that bed," Morgan began, his voice shaky and full of dismay. "There was nothing I could do about it. I just…that fever, man. Skin gave off a heat like a furnace."

Scarlett's eyes were fixed on Morgan's face, her eyebrows creased with melancholy as she listened to the story of his wife. It was horrid hearing about it, so she couldn't imagine losing someone close like that to something so malevolent as this infection.

"I should have…I should have put her down," he continued, attempting to hold back his own tears. "I know that, but…I just didn't have it in me. She's the mother of my child."

Rick cast Scarlett a sorrowful look, which she returned with her eyes. The sound of the doorknob turning in the other room still echoed to where they were. It continued for a few more hours and Scarlett couldn't find sleep, knowing that the undead were around and walking. Literally knocking on their front door.

Done!

Alright this will be the last chapter for a few days, but its nice to start the beginning of the canon story. That's when things get interesting.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome.

Take care,

- GuiltyCalamity