Chapter 4

The pounding in my head has decreased and I find that the bright shine from the sun is having less of a painful affect on me. My eyes still feel tired, and I feel like I could sleep for days, but I doubt I will ever properly sleep, especially whilst Merle is around. I am walking steadily behind T-Dog and Glenn, keeping my eyes and ears open as we cut through the lines of abandoned cars and wreckage left behind when people thought that they could escape what was coming. My eyes spy walkers up ahead and I tap T-Dog lightly on the shoulder, before pointing them out. We stay still for a few moments, weighing up our options before we alter our path and head towards the convenience store a few feet away. We have been walking for what seems like hours. My feet are sore, and legs are stiff, but I keep moving forward, always concentrating on where the guys lead me. I don't want to give them reason to regret bringing me out here.

I have never been the type of person who stands up for herself. Throughout high school, I was always the timid, quiet girl. I sat alone most break times and tried desperately to keep myself to myself. I was a boring, church-going, country girl. I was highest achieving in most of my classes and I was nicknamed the class nerd by most of my school year. I took the taunts and jibes to heart, but always remained resolute in my approach. I was never good at fighting my own corner and I never spoke much, but I was good at not showing them how their words could cut through me. I had a brilliant poker face, and this used to bother the bullies more. They wanted to see me squirm, they wanted to see me cry, but I didn't give them what they wanted, so the relentless taunting continued. That was until my sister stepped in, she heard what one of the girls in my year was calling me and she had stepped over and told her in no uncertain terms to 'back off' and leave me alone.

My big sister, only 18 months difference in age between us, and yet she was everything I was not. Beautiful, popular and tough! She never let anyone push her around. She had boys wrapped around her little finger, she was always my hero, someone who I aspired to be like. We may have been like chalk and cheese, but we were the best of friends, not just sisters. We laughed together, cried together and danced together. And then as I entered my final years, I felt like I wanted to change how I looked, I wanted to feel better about myself. So, my sister took me to have my hair styled and I changed my clothes, choosing tighter fitting clothing and items that were deemed fashionable. My light blonde hair was straightened, and I started to wear make-up at school. My father never agreed with us wearing make-up, so we used to hide it in our bags and apply it when we were on the school bus. Suddenly, with the change in my appearance, came boys' interest. I had girls coming over to compliment me on my clothes and I started to feel less like an ugly duckling, and I started to like someone who was confident and less pathetic. I have never been good with boys and despite me now being 25 years old, I have only had one boyfriend since leaving school. We were together for a few months, he was my first love, but he broke things off with me not long after I slept with him for the first time. Since then I have kind of distrusted guys, as he broke my heart. I realised that as I got older, I became more attractive to men, but I wasn't interested in anyone. I much preferred to keep myself to myself, and I much preferred to sing. I think again of my Father and the parting words he said to me when I told him that I was off to the city to try to make it as a singer. I don't think I will ever forget the disappointed look he had on his face…

My mind comes back to the present when a gun shot rings out not too far from where we are stand. Glenn and T-Dog look at one another, before looking back towards me.

'Where do you think that shot come fr…,' my words are cut off by T-Dog who indicates that I need to remain quiet.

We continue to listen, all 3 of us paused, ears strained, trying to eliminate all other sounds. The walkers who were up ahead are moving away from us, possibly in the direction of the gun shot.

T-Dog is the first to speak.

'Glenn, man, I think we need to keep moving. We are like sitting ducks out here.'

Glenn nods in agreement and we start moving forwards again towards the convenience store, even more conscious of the noises and shuffling around us. We step behind a white van, with Glenn peering out to make sure the coast is clear. When he signals that it is, we head into the darkened store. Glenn holds onto a steel pipe, raised just slightly above his head, ready to use it if he needs to. T-Dog is armed with a handgun, his arms outstretched and aimed as we walk through the store doors. Me, I have a meat cleaver, I am not sure I am confident enough to use it, but I grasp the handle tightly, my senses alert. Even though I am still alive out here, I have never actually killed a walker. I have been lucky enough to either outrun them, or I have knocked them aside. I really don't know how I have managed all this long on my own.

Glenn and T-Dog slow down in front of me, there attention drawn towards the back of the shop, weapons raised. I brace myself for walkers to come racing towards us and look in the direction of the others and then I see him. Dressed in a sheriff's uniform, hat sitting atop of his head and looking very much alive, is the man who I had left behind in the hospital. His hands are also raised, in them is a shotgun, which looks very much at home in his grasp. There is something in the way he looks, maybe in the uniform, or maybe in the steel gaze he holds with us all, but something tells me that I can feel safe with this guy. I let out a long breath of relief and step forward, dropping my weapon down to my side. His brows furrow as he sees me move closer and I smile at him, wanting him to know he can trust me.

'Hello Rick.'

Confusion shadows his features, just as a gunshot rings out behind me.