Hey, everybody! Thanks for the great responses last chapter - you all told me you like Jeanie involved, so I decided to go with my original idea for this chapter. Please tell me if you like how it goes! I certainly enjoyed writing it, haha! :L

Theta-McBride - Ah, great to hear! :D Aww, thank you very much :') I'm really glad you like Jeanie's involvement - and hope you enjoy it this chapter! Let me know if you do! ;D Haha, thanks again :)

Fuschia Grasshopper - Awesomeeee, glad to hear it! :3 Yeah, I think Jeanie should be pretty tough after surviving alone for so long - but she's still just some random girl that wasn't really especially fit before this whole thing, so she can't be outrageously strong etc. Aww, thanks so much, I like to take things nice and slow so people are developed properly :D Glad you liked that! I liked Amy, she was a sweet girl :'( Thanks again, let me know how this chap sits with you! :)

Leyshla Gisel - Got it, dude! :3 Thanks for the feedback - let me know if you like how I work with her this chapter! :D

Won't be the victim - Gahhhh, thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter as much! Thanks again :3

DISCLAIMER - Me no own-y. ;A;


Chapter 11 - Ambush

Carefully edging around a garbage can, sticking her head out first before carrying on, Jeanie vaguely listened to the short conversation at her back.

"—can't have gotten too far, not with that hand"

"—We'll be findin' out after this, that's for sure."

"Uh, yeah, I mean"

"—Don't bitch, kid."

"I wasn't going to, I just—!"

Only a few minutes ago, they had sat in a small, abandoned office block beside the shopping mall. Crouched together on some shoddy cardboard boxes they had found, sitting in a circle around Glenn's shaky little scrawl of Atlanta on the filthy, blood-streaked linoleum, a furious discussion had taken place. Finger jabbing at the wobbily doodle that had been birthed from a half-empty permanent marker Glenn had reluctantly removed from a pool of black bile, Daryl had adamantly argued for continuing the search for his brother – shut down quickly by the rest when they shot back the need for Rick's illustrious bag of guns. Jeanie had remained relatively quiet, listening neutrally at the side and only contributing when there was a need for it. Her eyes flicked over to Daryl every so often, finding his hard, resolute gaze determinedly glancing over the makeshift street map, his striking confidence bursting back as he helped plan out their next move.

There still remained a tension from the rooftop. After a long, horrible pause, Daryl's awful screams echoing away down the shadowy, stinking streets of Atlanta, the powder keg had suddenly blown. Whipping around, sticking his crossbow in a defeated looking T-Dog's immediately still face, Daryl had barely recognised Rick's instant rebuttal with his pistol, his low, dangerous assertion that he would not pause in pulling the trigger halting them all. A long pause passed by, shaking their lungs, sweating their brows, twitching their muscles as they all stared at the wild-eyed man - before Daryl suddenly pushed his crossbow away like nothing had happened, turning away and starting the hunt for his brother all over again without pause, ignoring them all. It had been disconcerting, to say the least. At some moments, Jeanie had silently considered saying something to him, to ask him how he was – but, then she reminded herself that of course he wouldn't be. He wouldn't be okay until they found his brother. And that was just the way it was.

Having ended up in that small, depressing little office that Merle had stopped in to determinedly cauterise his dire wound, a walker rotting off to the side, ignored by them all, they had all eventually agreed to find Rick's bag before going after Merle. The next topic of debate was how to approach the glaring problem groaning endlessly just a few levels down from them. Rick explained to Daryl and T-Dog that his panicked shooting upon arrival in the city had attracted a mob of undead, engorged in size all the more when his horse had went down, braying in desperation as it was torn apart, blood spluttering everywhere as he narrowly escaped into an abandoned military tank. They still remained there, right where they needed to get to – and their options for removing them were altogether disheartening.

They had pondered on setting off a distraction in another street to direct their attention elsewhere, but this idea was quickly shot down for fear of becoming separated from each other and trapped between crowds – the suggestion of simply going in as a group, smashing into anything that came in their way also abandoned swiftly when it was realised that they would likely just attract more walkers than were already there. Glenn had tentatively suggested that they wait a while longer before trying their hand but was shut down by Rick, who was firm in his assertion that they needed to be back sooner rather than later.

Frankly, things were looking quite grim for their quest for that bag of guns when Jeanie had abruptly shifted forward on her seat, straightened her shoulders up straight and steadily affirmed to them all, "I'll do it."

They stopped. After a moment's pause, they turned and looked at her, silent. Then, without hesitation, Rick asked her, "What do you have in mind?"

"Running in and running out. That's all."

Her blunt reply quirked his eyebrow up, his head coming back slightly as he remained silent. Shifting in his seat to better face her, he straightened, his pistol jingling at his side as he quietly asked, "That's all?"

She paused for a moment, lips nearly lifting up in a tired smile at his expression before she quashed it, nodding seriously, "I think we've come to the conclusion that there's nothing we can do to get the biters out of the way without taking a great risk – and what's the point in risking all of us when we can just risk me instead?"

Abruptly, Glenn spluttered at her side, head shaking madly, "You can't go out there alone – you could get trapped-"

"—If we all go in, we could all get trapped, Glenn," she informed him grimly. He shut his mouth, brow denting, and she sighed inwardly to herself as she bluntly asserted, "You're best at these streets, but I'm quickest - you know it's true. I can get in to the guns, and you can all stand by at separate streets – in case I get cut off and have to run back down the alleyway at the side of the old candy shop. If I run in, grab the bag and get back without being nabbed by one of them, we can," her eyes flicked across to the still, silent form of Daryl, "find Merle and be back in time for dinner."

There was another long pause filled with quick glances between them all, the men's eyes flickering to her steady gaze and determined expression before Rick had nodded, "Let's do it."

Having split off from Rick and T-Dog a minute ago, a firm pat on her shoulder from them both along with a comforting assertion that they'd be right there at the side waiting for her, Jeanie had taken Glenn and Daryl down the opposite alleyway, the two men carefully keeping an eye on their backs in case they were cut off. As they carefully moved forward, the droaning groans of the walkers grew all the more louder, pushing past the usual background noise they had become, piercing their ears and edging their muscles up. The sun beat down on them still, agitating them all, glinting off of Jeanie's machete as she carefully brought it up to stab at a supposedly empty box - sending a filthy rat skittering away, grime and mites flying off of it as it gave an indignant stream of shocked squeaks at being disturbed so rudely.

Quietly, for fear of the nearby walkers hearing, Glenn spoke, nervously adjusting his baseball cap as another rat sprinted by them, jarring his shoulders for a moment, "I just hope Merle doesn't do anything too – drastic."

Jeanie could make out the underlying fear there – that Merle would stumble back to camp and unleash his fury on the unsuspecting populace therein. She had paused on that thought, too, to be honest. Although she didn't think the man psychotic – just a douchebag, as Shane had so eloquently stated back at camp – the effects of heavy drugs paired with massive dehydration, heatstroke and pure, primal rage were not to be underestimated. With that toxic concoction in a man, anything could happen – none of it good. The very possibility pushed her slightly faster, her boots quietly nudging detritus aside as she looked ahead, mouth thinning, brow furrowing.

"That's enough for now, Short Round," Daryl's quiet reply came forth, paired with the distinct knock of his crossbow rising further up his shoulder as they neared the end of the alley they were walking down, "gettin' into geek territory, now." There was a slight pause as Jeanie came to a stop before them, head peeking out quickly to survey how big a crowd she would be facing, her expression hidden from them as Daryl walked forward and nodded to her, whispering a steady, "You ready?"

She turned back to face them, nodding, her shoulder bending back and her neck stretching as she carefully bent her legs up and down, warming them up for the harsh sprint ahead. Her expression was now firmly calm, her unwavering gaze framed by her level brow as she quickly shoved her machete away, needing her hands ready for the mad, frantic hustle ahead. There was a slight pause as she prepared to go, Glenn already at her side, growing even more tense as he looked out to the street, a borrowed wrench from Dale in his dusty hands, ready to hold off any walkers that tried to creep up Jeanie's back. He would stop about halfway up the street from her to keep her way back as clear as possible, Daryl remaining where he was, in a good corner well-suited to keeping an eye on all of the streets branching off around them.

This agreed upon plan in mind, Jeanie stilled her abrupt shoot of adrenaline, forcing her thoughts to sharpen, her hands juttering slightly with the rush as she gave a grim little smile to Daryl, nodded again, and swiftly shot down the street without looking back.

Her strong legs pounded down the cement, her boots clattering slightly – far quieter than they had previously been after she had messed around with the soles' thickness and had gotten some practice at withholding the balance of her feet. She bent over on herself slightly, lowering herself below the eyeline of the average walker as she slowed a bit, halting to crouch at the side of a rusting heap of a car, a decaying remnant of its previous owner frozen inside. The stench of the rotting undead was overwhelming as she neared the center of their mass, bathing her in their collective decay - but she had learned to ignore it somewhat, forcing her breaths to come steadier and more focused through her mouth rather than her much abused nose. It was hard to do as her lungs pushed harshly against her chest, the paired tension of her muscles and the abrupt exertion shocking them.

She took a moment, waiting a mere second for a walker to stumble out of her path before she continued, Glenn remaining where he was, his soft whisper of 'good luck' barely audible to her as she hurried onwards. Nearing the end of the block, the tank Rick had told her of was now becoming visible, previously obscured by the pulsating mob of walkers who tumbled over one another, feet dragging uselessly over the bloodied, baking asphalt. At the side of it, a glint of steel in the sunlight flashed up the bag of precious guns, with a striking little cowboy hat to match, which would've made her smile had she not spotted a walker suddenly sniff the air and turn in her direction.

Mouth tightening, brow furrowing steadily, Jeanie decided that it was time to go all out – and promptly stopped holding back by immediately sprinting forward with a burst of reserved energy, boots now echoing down the streets and turning up more heads to her direction. She could hear the walker that was sniffing the air now moaning at her back, his quiet shuffles coming her way as she skidded to the small gap next to the tank, grabbed the bag and hat without pause, and instantly vaulted back down the way she had come. They would have to get the hell out of there, she realised grimly as she came back to Glenn's view, her form straightening as she all-out ran back to him, sweat dripping unreservedly from her dangerous brow, her eyes screaming soundlessly at Glenn to stand and start back.

Just before she reached him, he started off, leading her on as the walkers began to slowly creep up, the mob's groans starting to hitch, a scent catching on their senses and rustling through the crowd, pushing her faster and masking the strange, warning rustle just ahead. Which was very unlucky for her, she realised abruptly as she came to a halt, finding Daryl and Glenn on the floor, being beaten with metal bats.

At the sound of her footsteps halting beside them, one of the chubbier men looked up, giving a surprised start at her sudden appearance and the load she carried - but then, without even a second thought, instincts screaming madly at her, Jeanie immediately brought her hand up into a fist, vaulted forward, and smashed it into the side of his face, shoving him off of Glenn. The man was launched into the wall opposite, his skull hitting the filthy bricks with a painful sounding crack that echoed down the alleyway, shocking him for the second that Jeanie needed to pull her leg up and shoot it firmly into the second man's crotch, abruptly halting his shocked cries with her steel toe-capped boots.

Ignoring the awful screech of the man as he crumpled to the ground, she whipped back around to the first man who Glenn was now struggling with against the wall, her hands jumping for her machete to help him as she heard Daryl struggle up at her side, her throat straining as she screamed, "RICK-!"

Her yell was immediately halted by what she guessed was a garbage can lid crashing into the side of her head from the hands of a third man she hadn't seen, sending her face smashing into the side of one of the giant dumpsters, knocking her off to the side, blood splattering from her nose and gushing down her throat as her machete clattered loudly to the ground. Her shoulders slumped and the bag of guns edged down her arm as her senses slipped violently, sounds of the struggles and furious cries around her melding together into a jumble of shouts and her vision lapsing with a jutter as a foot suddenly crashed into her chest, knocking all of the air out of her lungs and spewing up a glob of the blood that was stuck in her throat.

A holler of, "The guns!", filled her screeching ears as she tumbled backwards, a pair of powerful arms grabbing hold of her by the waist and wrenching her up, away from the battle even as her limbs came back to life and wildly lashed out, her crimson-stained teeth snapping up and taking hold of some unknown sliver of flesh, a panicked yell bursting forth from the man at the clench of her jaw. Before she could do any damage, however, what she assumed was Glenn's now stolen wrench smashed into the back of her head, immediately breaking her hold, a pained cry escaping her bruised lips, blood leaking down her scraped chin, rending her limp in the tightened grip of the man she had so viciously attacked. The bag of guns finally passed the threshold of her bent elbow at the impact, and they crashed to the ground with an awful, metallic clang, the funny little hat that Jeanie had smiled at flying out to the grimy floor, dented by a stray foot.

"Hel-"

Her weak cry was barely audible, her lungs already having been pushed with her hard sprint up the street - where a howling mass of walkers was now growing steadily more riled, their forms shuffling over one another to the incoherent mess of noises the fight was creating. Her head spun, moaning tiredly at her to stop, to just give in to the obviously stronger pair of arms crushing her ribs and squeezing her harsh breaths to the brink, chest shuddering violently with effort. Abruptly, in the jumble of wild noises, footsteps started to pound down the alley, signalling the imminent arrival of Rick and T-Dog – but, at the sound, another panicked shout from their attackers came forth, "Take her! Let's get the fuck outta here!"

Shouts from voices she recognised washed over one another, a tidal wave of unintelligible noises, her eyes struggling to remain open even as she feebly continued to fight back, her hands scratching out at anything they could, quaking voice shouting out muddled, wild cries. The man holding her turned, jerking with a yell as something hit him with violent force, his horrified cry of "My ass!" ripping through Jeanie's nauseatingly off-balance ears, his crushing arms loosening for but a moment. A car suddenly screeched to a halt beside them, tired squealing, and she was hoisted up further before she could take advantage of his distraction - the man instantly running forward and hastily shoving her inside, her leather jacket catching on the handle and giving her a moment to punch out at him before a hand shot out from inside and pulled her within, the door slamming shut behind her immediately.

Her furious yells were edging up in desperation and volume even as her throat started to give out at the abuse, muffled by the door as the hands fought and pulled against her, her legs kicking out behind her as she clawed at the filthy glass, the door locked firmly against her struggles. Even as her vision swam, she could see Daryl sprint forward, loading his crossbow, shouting furiously for her, face twisted in anger and a rare glimpse of panic, Glenn struggling in the background with a smaller man. Fist slamming the window, she managed to land a solid kick at the person behind as the engine roared to life, the tires screeching and renewing her cries as a second pair of hands shot forward and pulled her back with force.

"Help, DARYL, HEL-"

A final strike to the back of her head smashed her face against the glass, and her scream died on her lips.

Finally, Jeanie succumbed to the encroaching darkness, the desperate cries and outstretched hands of Daryl Dixon fading to black.


Soooooo...What do you think? Still like her involved? I didn't know if this was too much for you guys -_- I don't really like when OCs get too into story events and alter them dramatically - but I thought this was an incident where it could provide an opportunity for friendship growth between Daryl and Jeanie afterwards, eventually. I won't be doing it all the time, I assure you - Jeanie will be as involved as she was in previous chapters, but not so much that she becomes the focus all of the time, because I know that grates on my nerves at least.

Whelllllp, hope you liked it! Let me know, and I'll see what the general consesus is - I had another idea for how to go with this chapter, but like I said, this one time I wanted Jeanie involved a tad more. Alright-roo. I'm off now - it's half 2 in the morning, here! See you guys later! :)