AN: Ember was updated, guys. Season three has started and I'm on a roll. And I have a confession to make. I never thought this story would really take off. I got the idea one night while I was reading other fan fictions (For Skyrim actually). I was listening to the song, and I first intended to make a Skyrim story about a blind beggar, but I decided to make it a Walking Dead story.

And if Robert Kirkman came up to me right now and asked if I wanted to change The Walking Dead just to add one of my OCs, I'd probably pick…. Allison, actually.

Just kidding. I'd pick Lucy.

I started a Forum for Hello. A better description can be given on the direct page. The link you can find on my profile, but (sorry) it isn't a hyperlink.

The polls look good. I've gotten a lot for Daryl, and one for Randall.

So far (Currently as of March 2nd 2013, 9:22 PM,) I have 7 for Yes at 63% and 4 for No at 36%. Not sure how that works because that adds up to 99%, not 100%. Hmm…

Well, I'll shut up and you guys enjoy ^^

Chapter 11

"My baby!" Carol screamed. "Two Walkers are after my baby!"

Where were we supposed to go now? The CDC's gone, the Vatos are all dead, Atlanta is still a shit hole, and… Well, you get it.

After we left the CDC, we decided to go camp with the Vatos. Yeah, the assholes that kidnapped Glenn and I, yet turned out to not be assholes.

When we arrived at their hideout and entered the outpost, Walkers were everywhere, devouring our allies. We explored, only to find that the people had been murdered. We spent the night, terrified that a straggling Walker would find us.

And in the morning, we piled back into the cars, and since about a day and a half passed, I took off my bandages.

Seeing dead people everywhere wasn't exactly what I wanted to see. Still, I was ecstatic. I could see again. I was able to look in a mirror and say, "I'm proud of how I look". I had forgotten what I looked like. My family was just as happy…

As we were leaving, my family and I embraced each other, but something caught my eye. Shane. He was staring longingly at us. After all he's done so far, he doesn't deserve my father, my mother, Carl, or me.

I sat in the back of Carol's Cherokee in the same way we were on the way to the CDC. I couldn't stop staring at everything we passed. And I'd only been blind for a year, but it was traumatic.

I hope Fort Benning is safe. Oh yeah… I didn't mention that.

"I just thought," My father said. "About our trip to the Grand Canyon."

"I remember that." I said.

"Me too!" My brother piped in.

"No Carl, you were just a baby. Lucy however…" My mother laughed. "We never made it. Carl. He got so sick; we had to see a doctor. It was a wonder he said you'd live. So we drove home and…"

"That sucks." My brother said.

"No. It was a good trip."

"The best. I never knew a baby could throw up so much." My father laughed.

"As for Lucy. She sat in the back seat, kicking and screaming, shouting 'I hate Carl!' over and over." My mother said. I smiled, nodding my head.

"And then, as if Carl could actually understand you…"

"Don't say it!" I warned sarcastically.

"He puked on you. And believe me, were you sick."

"Can we go?" Sophia asked. "To the Grand Canyon?"

"See, that's the problem. We-" My father started, but cut himself off as he slammed on the brakes, lurching us forward in our seats.

I heard my father muttering under his breath, and he got out of the car. The minute I looked out the window, the sight was shocking. Dead bodies. Everywhere. On the road, in cars, even some under the abandoned vehicles.

I remember being here with my mother, Carl, Shane, and the Peletiers. We were driven out of the highway after fights broke out and the Walkers attacked. Shane saved our lives on many occasions. Still, it didn't make up for what he did to my mother.

My mother. I felt like such a jackass. I had treated her so poorly, and all she tried to do was make things right.

I watched, curiously as she stepped out of the car. I followed, and so did my brother. Carol and Sophia were hesitant, but they followed. I felt someone clutch onto my back, causing me to stumble forward.

"Lucy?" Carl asked, showing the fear in his voice.

"What?" I asked him as he clung to me.

"Are they? Dead?"

"Yes…"

We nervously crawled through the wreckage, meeting up with our parents and the rest of the group. I felt as if I were being watching. Who knew what was in here? Maybe the dead people weren't actually dead.

I looked at the RV, feeling the empty pit in my stomach grow as I saw smoke rising from the hood of the vehicle. "Radiator hose." Shane said from behind me.

"It always is." I mused.

I realized that my parents were back in the Cherokee. Carl dug his fingernails into me once he realized it for himself. I tried to walk forward, but I was anchored by my brother's dead weight. "C'mon." I said to him to get him to move.

The cars began to move, save the RV. The vehicles only made it about a few feet before giving up. Now, everyone was with us.

"If you can't find a radiator hose here." I heard Shane point out.

"Whole lotta other stuff we can find." Daryl offered, already going through a car.

"We could siphon more fuel from these cars, for a start." T-Dog said.

"Maybe some water?" Carol added.

"This place is a graveyard." My mother blandly said. "I don't know how I feel about this."

We all looked at each other, hoping for a sign. Eventually, we decided that supplies came first over feelings. "Gather what you can, y'all." Shane ordered.

So, we split up. I saw Daryl walking further along the highway, and I decided to catch up with him. I needed answers. Now. I watched him stop by a car, pulling the contents out of the trunk. I jogged up to him, leaning against the car's side as I waited for him to finish.

"What to you want?" He asked me.

"Answers." I simply told him.

"'Bout what?" He said as he pulled away from the car.

"I think you and I both know." I replied.

Daryl scowled at me, and took a step closer. I stepped back, crossing my arms. He didn't say anything. I shook my head in annoyance, and turned my back to him, walking off into the distance.

He didn't follow me, which I was thankful for. I stopped at an old Buick, carefully moving my arm around the shards of metal from the dented and destroyed vehicle. A single bag lay inside, wedged in between two sleeping bags.

I reached for the bag, having to climb in to grasp it. Once I had a good grip on the strap, I removed the bag from its place, setting it beside me on the ground.

I started to go back in for the sleeping bags, but I was stopped as a pair of arms draped across my chest. I tried to shove myself out of the arms, and I was about to scream until someone barked at me in my ear.

"Stop it." I heard Daryl harshly whisper in my ear. "Get under this car. Don't come out 'til I come back for you."

"Why?" I whispered back.

"Just do it."

He released me, and I scurried under the Buick. The destroyed car camouflaged me, and I bumped into something… Wet, gushy, and… Dead.

I turned my head to the side, catching my breath in my throat as I came face-to-face with a dead human. I wanted to scream and leave, but I remembered what Daryl told me.

What the hell was going on?

I was about to call out for Daryl, but I shut my mouth as they came.

The unmistakable scuffle of feet.

The unmistakable groaning.

The unmistakable aspects of the Walkers.

Now I really wanted to scream. I was alone, and hundreds of Walkers were parading past me. I scurried closer to the dead body, hoping that none of my limbs were sticking out.

I shut my eyes and pushed the palms of my hands into my ears. I began to count to one hundred in my head. As the sounds of feet still filled into my ears, grabbing at the drums, I shoved my palms even harder, yanking my hair down with them.

I feared a lot during those long minutes. I feared that the dead body I was with would actually turn out to be a Walker and kill me. I feared that a Walker would trip and get me. I feared that my family was dead.

I heard a Walker giving an almost warlike cry. My eyes sprung open, wet with tears in which had begun to well up. I thought I was dead, until I watched it go down. With Daryl. He pulled a knife out of his head, and I saw him covering T-Dog with it. Then one for himself as the herd came towards them.

It seemed as if hours had passed until the last of the Walkers passed. I watched Daryl as he pushed the dead body off of him, and then T-Dog, who looked like he was ready to kill over.

I watched Daryl's boots head towards me, as he grew closer to the car. He crouched down, and we locked eye contact.

Those blue eyes.

It was the first time I ever saw them.

"You ok?" He asked me.

I solemnly nodded, and he wrapped his hands around my biceps and triceps. He began to pull me out from under the car, and then it happened.

Someone screamed. A little girl. We only had one girl left now. Sophia.

Daryl and I took off in a sprint as T-Dog staggered behind. We slid around the cars and dead bodies just to reach the others. By the time we arrived, I saw my mother holding a weeping Carol back from the side of the road.