"This is fuckin' ridiculous!" Murphy exclaimed irritably; slamming his fist down on the dashboard in frustration. Connor clenched his jaw, saying nothing. As much as he would've liked to have been able to vent out his own anger he knew it was pointless. Throwing a tantrum wasn't exactly going to help improve their situation any.

He tried his best to block out the incessant complaints from the seat next to him and turned his attention to the deserted road ahead of him. He remembered vaguely the man on the police radio (he had already forgotten his name) had said it would only take them something like forty minutes to reach Rockdale from where they were.

That had been almost three days ago.

The fact that they had been given so little directions didn't really help them much either; as if it wasn't already difficult enough, considering they were in unfamiliar territory. Despite all of their shortcomings, they had eventually managed to find their way back on to Highway 20 (after wasting nearly another full day driving aimlessly round the Georgian wilderness.) But as they were passing through some suburban area in the city outskirts (Gresham Park, if he remembered right) there had been a loud bang from under the Chevy's hood and it had rolled to a halt right in the middle of the empty road. The twins had scrambled to get out of the vehicle, to see if the situation could be salvaged. Although neither of them were exactly experts when it came to cars; even a moron could tell that when smoke started pouring from the engine, something was wrong.

With the Chevy's temporary engine failure, they had been left in an extremely vulnerable position: without a means of escape, dangerously close to the perilous, corpse-infested streets of Atlanta. Having no other choice they were forced to abandon the vehicle after a handful of walkers appeared from the darkened buildings, stumbling towards them on unsteady legs. They managed to find refuge in a tiny convenience store on the corner of the street. A grate had been pulled down over the display window and, though the front door had been left unlocked, as the brothers ran inside, Connor found a set of keys on the floor nearby and managed to lock it shut again, just in time. They'd retreated to the back of the store as the walkers outside reached the door, snarling and snapping their bloodied teeth as they slammed their fists on the metal protecting the window.

The brothers had been trapped in the small store for the best part of two days after that...Then again, it hadn't necessarily been a bad thing. The shelves were still reasonably well stocked up, so even if they'd been stuck there a week, they wouldn't have starved. There'd also been a couple of floor rugs on sale near the back of the store, which they were able to use as crude beds. Sleeping helped pass some of the time; though they didn't get much considering their discomfort from laying on the floor and the near constant noise from the walkers on the outside who persistently remained on the doorstep of the store, continually hammering away at the window.

It was on their second night in the store, at sometime around midnight, when they were both abruptly awakened by a horrific scream from the street outside, followed by several explosive gunshots. The noise from the walkers gradually died down as they moved away, pursuing the source of the noise. The second it had gone completely silent, Murphy had been desperate to leave, not wanting to waste anymore time. But Connor remained adamant that they wait another few hours; it was still too dark outside to see much. They hung around the store for a while longer, just until the sky had lightened a little. It was quiet out on the street and when they left, they discovered that, aside from a few bodies strewn about the sidewalk, there was no sign of the walkers from earlier.

They hurried back to the Chevy, which was still sitting immobile in the middle of the road where they'd left it. Connor found the keys for the vehicle on the floor under the drivers seat and stuck them in the ignition. The engine stuttered and coughed violently and though it took a few tries, by some miracle, the car still worked. They were soon on the move again, though they quickly discovered they couldn't go much faster than fifty without a horrible rattling sound emitting from under the hood.

Even now, there was still the occasional guttural noise from the engine, which worried Connor. As if they didn't already have enough to worry about with the fuel problem, now there was the constant threat of the car breaking down again. It was pretty clear the vehicle was on its last legs and he didn't think they could go on for much longer.

"Connor...Connor! Stop t'car!"

The older twin was jerked out of his thoughts when Murphy suddenly yelled out and he slammed his foot down on the brake. The engine stuttered and the car ground to a stop.

"What? What is it?" he asked. "Did y'see something?"

He glanced out the side window, but couldn't see any real cause for alarm. The road was still pretty much deserted, and they hadn't passed by any buildings for a good while; there was nothing but trees on either side of them.

"What t'hell was that about?" Connor asked, turning to his brother., who was gazing out the back window, his eyes narrowed.

"Back up a bit." He said.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, alrigh'?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "...Fuck's sake..." he muttered tetchily, as he reached for the gear stick. The car reversed back a few feet and he spotted something he hadn't noticed before: to their left, there was a break in the tree line, where a small dirt track lead away from the main road.

"D'you remember what tha' cop said? 'Bout the camp?"

"What about it?"

"'Bout where it was? Wha' the place was called?"

Connor hesitated, taking a moment to cast his mind back. "...Somethin' about a quarry?" he said tentatively. "Rock...something?"

"Aye, well he definitely said something 'bout a quarry, didn't he?"

"Aye...think so."

"Well look at tha' up there." Murphy pointed towards the opening, where a small white sign stood, half hidden by the trees. He squinted, only just able to make out the words 'Quarry Area: Keep Out' printed on it in black.

"Y'think this is the place he was talking 'bout?" His twin asked hopefully.

"Maybe...maybe not."

"S'not like we've got much else t'go on do we?" he said impatiently. "Might as well take a look, right?"

"Aye. S'pose yer right." Connor admitted sullenly, after a pause. He changed gear and turned the car around, towards the opening. They drove on, following the twisting and turning path of the dirt track as it lead away from the main road. The Chevy's engine rattled and groaned as they bounced along the uneven ground; they couldn't go much faster than at a snails pace for fear of the car breaking down again. After a few minutes of driving the trail evened out into more solid concrete and Connor slowed the car to a stop as they turned the corner. Ahead of them, there was just more empty road; lined with trees on either side.

No signs of life anywhere.

The older brother hesitated. "What d'you think?" he asked his brother.

"S'bit quiet." Murphy remarked.

"Maybe we're at t'wrong place? Maybe it's somewhere else?"

He shrugged vaguely and reached for the door handle, shoving it open and clambering out of the car. Connor faltered; for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he felt distinctly uneasy about the whole situation. He watched as Murphy scrambled up the slope, and disappeared round the corner, before he too climbed out of the car. Like his brother had said, it was far too quiet outside; the only noise came from the buzz of insects from the trees nearby and Murphy's receding footsteps as he continued on down the road. He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. It looked like they'd hit yet another dead end; there was clearly no camp here. It could be that they were at the wrong place, but the more he looked around, the more he began to notice things; signs that maybe there had been people here, at least at some point. There were numerous tyre tracks running up and down all over the road, recent ones by the looks of it. To his left, there was what looked like the remains of a small campfire: burnt wood stacked up in a pile, surrounding by various bits and pieces of debris.

Connor continued on up the road, turning the corner to find Murphy standing next to what looked like a very flashy sports car, parked on the shoulder of the road, in the shade of the trees. As he got closer he noticed someone had left a piece of paper hanging in the cars window, with a message scrawled messily on it in black marker pen.

"What's that?" he asked his twin as he got close enough..

"They've gone." Murphy replied bitterly. "Whoever was here, they've already left."

"You fuckin' serious?"

"Aye." He scoffed. "Least they had the fuckin' courtesy t'leave us a message, right?"

Connor peered down at the paper. The note was addressed to someone called 'Morgan' and didn't really have much to offer by way of information. It simply read: 'Going to CDC. This area not safe.'

He glanced at the name signed at the bottom of the paper, frowning. "Who the fuck's Rick?" he asked.

"Don't know. Don't fuckin' care either." Murphy retorted. "Wha' matters is: whoever was here, they're gone now, for whatever reason, and we've got no fuckin' backup plan."

"We'll figure somethin' out." His brother reassured him. "S'pose we can't stay here, t'any rate."

"Wouldn't want to anyway. There's fuckin' bodies all over the place."

Connor was justifiably taken aback by this. "Y'what?"

"You didn't see them? There a huge fuckin' pile up the road there. Someone torched 'em up pretty bad."

The older brother glanced over his shoulder, quickly spotting the heap of charred remains sitting in the middle of the road. Burnt and blackened limbs were sticking out in all directions and there were some scraps of ruined clothing strewn about the surrounding ground.

"Jesus Christ." Connor said, aghast. "Why the fuck would they do that?"

Murphy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe that's what they do with the...walkers or whatever it is they call those fuckin' things...Maybe that's how y'kill them?"

"Aye...s'pose tha' makes sense." He turned his back on the pile of dead bodies, and immediately froze when his gaze fell on the figure of a woman, standing a little further up the road just by the tree line. It was almost as if she had just materialised out of thin air. For a brief second, he stupidly thought she might actually be a survivor of sorts. That they'd found someone else alive. Then he looked closer and noticed that she was missing her left hand, as well as half her face. Her clothes were coated in dried blood and her eyes were an abnormal pale white colour; disturbingly vacant. Connor grabbed his brothers arm to get his attention and the younger twin whirled round, cursing when he caught sight of the woman.

"Fuckin' hell! Where'd she come from?" Murphy cried, taking a step back as she limped forward, snarling and stumbling over her own feet as she moved towards them. The brothers broke into a run, sprinting past her as several more walkers appeared from the trees, all of them growling and reaching out with gnarled hands, trying to catch a hold of them. Luckily, they were a lot faster than the monsters were, easily able to outrun them. They reached the Chevy and wrenched the doors open, clambering inside. Connor fumbled for the keys and jammed them into the ignition. There was a moment of sheer terror when he turned the keys and the engine stuttered, refusing to start. He tried a second time, ignoring Murphy's panicked yells for him to hurry up, and the motor roared to life. The car lurched forward and they sped off down the road, watching in the rear-view mirror as the walkers stumbling after the car grew gradually smaller and smaller; until they turned the corner and they disappeared from sight altogether.


Neither of them spoke for a long time after that.

They hadn't really been in the mood for talking anyway, considering they both still shaken up after the close call back at the quarry. After their hasty departure from the camp, they'd continued driving along the winding country roads, despite the fact they had little to no idea where they were actually going.

"What t'fuck're we gonna do Connor?" Murphy asked, abruptly breaking the silence. His voice shook slightly with emotion and just from stealing a glancing at him, could tell he was close to breaking point. He couldn't exactly blame him for it; their luck so far had been nothing short of terrible.

"S'pose there's not much we can do." He said bleakly. "Just keep driving; maybe we'll find somewhere t'stay for the night..."

"We can't keep goin' like this." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mean, what're we gonna do when we run outta fuel and we don't have a car anymore? We're gonna be completely fucked!"

"What would you suggest we do then? 'Cause I'm all fuckin' outta ideas!" Connor snapped.

Murphy snorted. "Y'kidding me? Y'were the one who was always coming up with t'plans..."

"Aye. That was before the world went t'shit."

"Righ'..."

Connor sighed heavily. "I dunno what we're gonna do...Y'never know though. We might get lucky. Maybe we'll find a gas station t'fix the car. Maybe we'll find somewhere to safe where we can hunker down till all this shit blows over."

"Aye. Chance'd be a fine thing."

The older brother smiled half-heartedly; turning his attention back to the road. They'd made little headway since leaving the camp at Rockdale; in fact, he was afraid they'd gotten themselves even more lost, if that was possible. All of the country roads looked almost exactly the same and it was practically impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were. The narrow road ahead of them stretched out, seemingly endless. They hadn't seen another living soul in days...he was beginning to doubt they ever would.

But then, just as the thought had crossed his mind, his attention was grabbed by a sudden flash of colour by the side of the road. He turned his head and spotted the figure of a young girl sitting, curled up with her arms wrapped round her knees; half hidden in the long grass on the shoulder of the road. Her thick, dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail and she looked like she couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve years old. Because of the way she was sitting, with her forehead resting on her knees, it was difficult to see her face so he couldn't be entirely sure whether she was a walker or not. She raised her head as they passed her by, and Connor was amazed that there was an actual sign of intelligence in her eyes, which were a dark brown; unlike those of the walkers which were vacant and abnormally pale. He slammed his foot down on the brake and as the car rolled to a halt the girl clambered to her feet, suddenly frightened.

"Connor? Connor! The fuck're you doing?" Murphy asked, as the older twin reached for the door handle. "Where're you going?"

"Didn't y'see? There's a fuckin' kid back there! She's alive!"

"What?"

Connor kicked open the door and scrambled out of the car. He took a step forward and then stopped, hesitating when he saw the look of terror on the girl's face. She backed away from the road, looking like she was about to take off at any second. He held out his hands in a placating manner, trying to show her he meant no harm.

"Hey, s'alright." He called over to her. "Y'got nothin' to be afraid of. We're not gonna hurt you."

The girl's hands was trembling as she took another step back. "Fuera! Déjame en paz!" she cried angrily.

Connor hesitated, taken aback by this. "Uh..." he racked his brains, trying to think of something to say. His Spanish was a little on the rusty side; it was one of the few languages he spoke that he had trouble with. "Por favor, no...uh miedo? Shit." He turned his head slightly, able to catch a glimpse of his brother, who was still sitting in the car. "Murph?" he called. "Y'think you could help me with this? Yer better at Spanish than I am."

"Fuck's sake." He heard his brother mutter, as he shoved open the car door. He glanced back to the girl who, on seeing Murphy, gave a sudden cry of alarm and fear; moving back another few steps.

"Papá!" She shrieked over her shoulder. "Obtener el arma! Papá!"

Before Connor could stop her, she whirled round and broke into a run, hurtling through the long grass and disappearing round the corner, out of sight. Without wasting any time, he spun on his heel and sprinted after the girl; stumbling and tripping on the uneven ground. He skidded round the corner, turning into another narrower road, leading away from the main one. Up ahead, a beat up, rusted car was parked by the side of the street, in the shade of some nearby trees. Three people were standing by the car's bumper: a man and a woman, and a small boy, of about eight years of age. They must have been of some relation to the girl, as they old had the same dark hair and tan skin as her. She ran straight into the woman's arms, who turned to look at Connor, fear evident in her brown eyes. The man's expression was thunderous as he strode forward, reaching into his pocket and the older McManus skidded to a halt when he pulled out a gun and pointed it square at his head.

"Wait, wait!" he cried, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't shoot! Por favor! Lo siento, no...uh intención..."

The man hesitated, looking perplexed. Cautiously, he lowered his gun a fraction. "You speak Spanish?" he asked.

Connor blinked. "You speak English?"

"Yeah...You sound kinda surprised."

"Aye. Well...s'just..." he glanced back to the young girl who was watching him with narrowed eyes from behind who he presumed was her mother, "Yer, daughter...she was speaking Spanish so I mean...I thought..." he trailed off, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Look, never mind. It doesn't matter. Can y'just put the gun down? M'sorry I scared yer kid, alrigh'? I didn't mean to, honest t'God I didn't. S'just that...we've been travelling for so long an' we haven't seen a livin' person since-"

"Wait, back up a second. You said 'we'? Who's we?"

Before Connor could reply there was a startled yell from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see Murphy stomping towards them.

"The fuck's going on?" he yelled indignantly. "What t'fuck're y'playing at running, Connor? M'getting sick of you always-" he froze, his gaze abruptly falling on the gun in the other man's hand. "Holy fuckin' shit!"

The older twin turned back to the Hispanic, who was staring past him, at his younger brother. He was sure he could almost see a hint of recognition in his eyes as he dropped the weapon to his side.

"Daryl?" he said, incredulous. "The hell're you doing here, man? I thought you went to the CDC with the others?"

Murphy stared back at him, perplexed. "What're you talkin' about? Who the fuck's Daryl?" he glanced over his shoulder, almost as if expecting someone to appear behind him.

"You are." The man said insistently. "...Aren't you?"

"Fuck no!"

"Y'must be mistaken." Connor said. "That there's m'brother, Murphy. We...we don't know anyone called Daryl."

"Huh." He glanced Murphy up and down, looking like he still didn't properly believe them. "S'pretty weird." He turned to the woman, standing a little behind him, still clutching the young girl by the shoulder. "He's a dead ringer for Daryl, don't y'think?"

She gave a brief nod and he turned back to face the brothers, shrugging apologetically at Murphy. "Guess I was wrong, though. Y'don't sound that much like Daryl, now that I think more on it. He doesn't talk like that."

"Talk like what?" Murphy demanded, suddenly defensive.

"I just meant about your accent, is all." He reassured him. "Where are you guys from, anyway?" He added, with a frown. "No offence meant, but you don't really seem like you're from around here."

"S'cause we're not." Connor told him. "We're from Ireland, originally. Though we moved t'Boston couple years back...before all this shit happened..."

"Boston? That's pretty far from here. Why'd you come this far south?"

"We heard there was a military camp or somethin' in Atlanta. Only thing is, by the time we got here it had got overrun...or so tha' guy on the radio told us."

The Hispanic frowned. "You heard someone on the radio?"

"Not on an official station or nothin'. We found some abandoned police cruiser by t'road an' managed t'pick up a signal from some campsite nearby. There was some cop...can't remember his name. Something like Welsh?" He turned to Murphy for confirmation, who just shrugged unhelpfully. "Anyway, he was t'one tha' told us Atlanta was done. But he said he was part of some group at this quarry place; that we could go stay with them. Only, by the time we got there, they'd all left..."

The other man looked thoughtful. "This...quarry you're talking about. Was it at Rockdale by any chance?"

"Rockdale...aye, now y'mention it; think tha' was the place. D'you know it?"

"Yeah. Me and my family...we just came from there."

"Yer kidding me?" Connor said. "You were part of tha' group?"

He nodded. "That cop you were talking about? 'Welsh?' You must be talking about Shane Walsh. He was with us too."

"Hang on a fuckin' second!" Murphy interrupted, "Tha' cop told us that the quarry y'were at was safe. What t'hell happened that made y'leave? And where's t'rest of the group? There was s'posed t'be somethin' like fifteen of you, righ'?"

The Hispanic sighed heavily. "There was more of us. But a couple nights ago, our camp got attacked by walkers. We uh...we lost a lot of people that night."

"Jesus Christ..." Connor muttered.

"So, wait. Was that why there was tha' pile of bodies y'burned? S'that what you do with yer dead ones? Cremate 'em?" The younger twin asked.

"The ones that were walkers, yeah. Our people we...we gave them decent burials. Or as decent as we could manage."

"Aye, that makes sense..."

"After that happened though, it was pretty obvious we couldn't stay at the quarry anymore. So, this new guy that just arrived a couple days ago, Rick; he comes up with this bright idea of going to the CDC in Atlanta t'see if they've found a cure for this disease or whatever it is that's turning people into walkers."

Connor's mind was cast back to the sign they'd found on the door of the red car: 'Going to CDC. This area not safe.'

"What's the CDC?" Murphy asked.

"Centre for Disease Control. He thought they might find something useful there, but...to be honest I thought it was too big a risk to go back to the city. To me, that just seemed like a dead end and I didn't want to put my family at that sort of risk. So we opted out. Split from the rest of them. Haven't really heard from anyone since then."

"Y'think their still alive?" Connor asked tentatively.

He shrugged. "If I'm being totally honest? It's doubtful."

The younger brother snorted. "Don't fuckin' believe this..." he said.

"Murph..." Connor warned.

"Why is it tha' every fuckin' time we seem t'be getting somewhere, something always goes wrong?"

"Just stop alrigh'? I'm tired too."

He shook his head, his face darkened with rage. "M'telling you, Connor. Someone up there is fuckin' laughing at us." He scowled up at the sky.

"Don't say things like that. God's on our side."

"Aye? Well it sure don't fuckin feel like it..."

"I take it you guys haven't been having much luck as of late?" The other man said tentatively, after an awkward pause.

"Y'can fuckin' say that again." Murphy muttered.

"Tha' camp at Rockdale was t'first we'd heard from anyone in a long time, an' then when we got there an' everyone was already gone...We jus'...we don't have anywhere else to go." Connor explained.

The other man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well...before all the talk about the CDC, the plan was to head to Fort Benning if anything went wrong."

The younger twin perked up slightly at this. "Fort Benning?" he repeated. "What's that?"

"Military encampment. S'just South of Columbus. They said they had weapons there. Food. Shelter. It's supposed to be safe."

Murphy scoffed. "Supposed to be..."

"Might be a long shot, but s'all we've got right now!" Connor snapped. "Don't see you comin' up with anythin' better."

He scowled, but didn't say anymore. The older brother turned back to the Hispanic man.

"Where 'bout is this Fort Benning?" He asked.

"Uh...I'd say just over a hundred miles, from here."

"...You serious?"

"Well. That's just fuckin' perfect!" Murphy snarled.

"Our car's just about outta gas. We're literally running on empty." Connor said quickly. "There's no way we're gonna be able t'get there in time."

The man shrugged. "I'm sorry, man. I can't help you with that."

He glanced behind him at the car parked in the ditch by the side of the lane. "Don't suppose...y'got any fuel y'could spare?" he asked hesitantly.

The man quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said. "But I can't help you there."

"Why t'fuck not?" Murphy demanded angrily.

"Murph! Fuckin' shut it."

"I'm sorry, alright? But we've only got half a tank left and that's barely enough to get us to Birmingham as it is."

"Birmingham? That where yer headed?" Connor said.

He nodded. "We got family there. I thought it was a better option than going with the others back to Atlanta...I mean, don't get me wrong. I really would like to help you guys. You seem like genuinely decent people and I've got nothing against you. But there's literally nothing I can do to help-"

"S'fine. S'alright..." Connor interrupted, trying to reassure him. "M'sorry t'have asked. We'll be alright. Really." He sighed. "Maybe we'll be able t'find a gas station or somethin' nearby..."

Murphy snorted but, on seeing the dirty look his twin gave him, quickly decided against saying anything more; instead he turned on his heel and stormed back towards the main road. Connor watched him go before turning back to the Hispanic man.

"Sorry 'bout him...he's jus'...he's not been himself since this whole thing started..."

"Yeah, s'fine. Don't worry about it."

"Righ'..." he glanced behind him, moving back a few steps. "I'd uh...better be off then."

"You gonna be able to find Fort Benning alright?"

"Aye, sure. We...we've got a map. We'll work somethin' out."

Before he could completely turn away, the man added, almost as an afterthought: "Didn't actually catch your name."

"Oh, righ'...M'Connor. Connor McManus."

"Morales." He replied; hesitating momentarily, before going on. "Listen, uh...just, watch your back, ok? The walkers, they might not seem like that they're too much to handle, especially when they're on their own...but you get stuck with a large group of 'em and their hungry..."

"Aye, I get that. They're dangerous."

He nodded. "Right. You and your brother...take care, alright?"

The older twin smiled faintly. "Aye, you too." He said, before he turned and made his way back up to the main road, where his brother was waiting for him.


AN: Sorry if this chapter wasn't so interesting :/ But as I've started this story roughly at the beginning of Season One of WD, I wanted to touch on some of the first couple of episodes. Fortunately, there should be more going on in the next chapter, since I'll be starting on some stuff from Season Two, so you'll be gradually seeing more of the Atlanta group in the coming chapters! :D

To quote Rocco: "You start gettin' excited mother fucker!"

Heh.

In all seriousness, I can't thank you all enough for all the wonderful reviews and positive feedback I've been getting so far. It really makes my day seeing that people are enjoying the story. Hopefully, the next update will be sooner :)

Till next time x