I do not own the Walking Dead. I only own my OC and the storyline I created.

Merle
They exchanged looks while they prepared themselves for the worst. Merle breathed heavily.
Time t' try out this stupid thing, he thought while looking at the knife that was attached to the metal on his wrist. He sighed, realizing this would be the only opportunity to do what he wanted to.
Ain't got much 'f a choice, he said to himself, almost seeming like he was making up an excuse, only so he wouldn't feel guilty afterwards. She'd only slow me down.
His glance lingered on Emmaly, who was already struggling to keep 2 walkers off of her. Merle inhaled, tried to forget she was there and ran away, while stabbing any walker on the move that tried to block him.

Emmaly
Emmaly was trying to stab them as fast as she could, while staying focused and concentrated. She managed to stab the walkers right between the eyes, so they would fall down right away to block the others, providing her more time. Emmaly was sweating like crazy and she didn't know how long she was able to put up with this shit.
Finally, after about 25 minutes, all the walkers were out of the alley. Soon she realized the other walkers from the street had heard her; they were staggering towards her in a quick pace. Emmaly turned around and noticed that Merle was missing.
"Son 'f a fuckin' bitch," she groaned angrily while kicking a dead body in front of her.
I shood 've known better, she said to herself while feeling more furious than ever. Meanwhile, the walkers were still coming and all Emmaly could do was pray. She only had a few knives to defend herself with, but even a gun couldn't save her ass now.

Merle

Merle was searching for a way out; a car—or a fucking bike even, anything to get him out of this shit hole.
He continued to jog so he could save up his stamina, but somewhere in the back of his mind he felt bad.
What the fuck?
While attempting to clear his mind he soon realized why he was feeling this way.
"Th' goddamn bitch shoudn've saved me," he muttered while slowing down. Maybe he was wrong about her—or maybe not. For all he knew she'd be dead right now, even if he went back, he would only risk his life again.
But what 'at worth t' ya when ya do something like this? Could he live with that, knowing he indirectly killed someone good by letting her undergo her fate like this? Sure, Merle's hand weren't clean; he had killed a few men during the apocalypse. But somehow this felt different. She risked her life by saving him.
Merle turned around and ran back towards the alley, as fast as he could. It only took a few minutes—even though it felt like ages— when he reached the spot again where the outburst had started.
He was utterly shocked and surprised when he saw what was happening in front of him.
Emmaly was still alive.
Her face was red from walker's blood, while she kept stabbing the numerous amount of walkers. Even though she would lose anyhow, she stayed focused, never missing the head of the walker that threatened to bite her. Emmaly managed to walk backwards through the alley every now and then, to avoid they would come at her all at once. Merle smirked and coughed loudly, amused but also thunderstruck because he was wrong about her. He'd underestimated her and deep down inside, Emmaly had earned some of Merle's respect. His eyes automatically glanced over her moving ass again. Fuck, that deserved a hell of a lot respect.
She noticed him. Only one glance was enough to make her lurch in his direction.
"Care tae help m' little? 'M kind 'f havin' a situation 'ere," she yelled at him.
Merle noticed the fury in her eyes and he was even more amused as he started to stab some walkers, until they killed enough of them to get away safely.
"Ya wann' stick 'r'ound for tea 'r what? Run!" He yelled while he pushed her forward, encouraging her to take the lead.

Emmaly
Emmaly ran away as fast as she could, not even caring whether Merle was able to keep up with her or not.
Th' fucker bett'r prepare 'mself, she mumbled to herself while she kept running.
They must've run for at least 2 hours until they reached the parking lot. Emmaly sighed in relief when she saw the grey familiar pick-up.
"That it?" She heard Merle say with an outraged tone. Emmaly opened the truck and found the keys that she'd kept hidden in her bra, in case Merle would run off and steal the keys. She sat down and started the car. Merle sat down next to her in the passenger seat. When they closed the door, Emmaly hit the gas pedal and drove away.
"What did ye expect, a fuckin' limousine?" she snapped at him in response at the comment he made earlier. Merle only shrugged and looked out of the window. The rest of their journey proceeded in silence.

Merle
A loud noise and the sound of a slapping door brought him back to reality and he soon realized he had fallen asleep.
"Fuck," he said, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. When he turned around he found out that Emmaly was nowhere in sight.
The sudden smash startled him, but when the door opened, it was just Emmaly. She didn't say anything but started the car again and continued to drive.
Merle still didn't say anything, not knowing what to say after what happened today. He didn't know whether to feel guilty or not; Emmaly saved his life and yet he didn't want to give in to that feeling.
I ain't sorry for nothin'. I was never sorry for anythin' and just 'cause one chick decided t' come into m' life won't change anythin' at all.
He peeked at her from the corner of his eye and noticed she was beginning to feel sleepy, as she blinked a few times and tried to hold back a yawn.
"Why don't' 'cha let me drive for a while, huh?" He offered, turning his head to look at her.
Emmaly didn't even grant one single look with him. "Ye gotta be fuckin' kiddin', rite?" she scoffed, while her eyes remained on the road.
Merle only shrugged. "Just tryin' t' be polite," he mumbled, more to himself than actually answering her comment.

Emmaly
Her eyes started to feel heavier than ever and she realized she really needed sleep, or else they'd end up having an accident. They were probably far away from Atlanta city, so Emmaly looked around, trying to find a good spot to stop the car. But before she could do anything, the engine started to sputter.
They ran out of fucking gas.
Emmaly had been so focused—to get away from that fucking city as far as possible,—that she totally forgot to keep an eye on the gas meter.
Her reaction ability had slowed down from the lack of sleep and before she could do nor say anything, the car bumped into a tree.

It wasn't really a terrible accident, but it was hard enough for Emmaly to hit her head on the steering wheel and lose consciousness.