OK, so I hope this links the two stories, and makes everything a bit more understandable! By the way, if ever you want me to write from someones in particulat, do just PM me and I'll try to work it in. I know some of you are desperate for more Dog, Dixon and Andrea thoughts!

Matthew

The horde was closing in on him. He could almost feel their rancid breath on his neck, feel their fingertips brushing the back of his jacket. Everytime he threw a glance back at them, he could see them getting closer and closer. He was tiring fast, and he knew unless he found a way to get onto the roofs, or a miracle happened, he would tire himself out, the walkers would not, and he would die, ripped to shreds by the pack behind him. And the longer he ran, the more convinced he became that he was going to die.

Alone.

Everything had gone wrong from the moment he had stepped foot in the town, less than four days ago. About the only thing he had managed, was to find a source of water in an abandoned grocery store. He had found nowhere secure enough to make up a permanent shelter, and had not had a decent nights sleep since the night of Dales murder. He didn't even know if he had missed the groups run into the town. T-Dog had promised that he would bring him some proper food and extra weapons a few days in, but he had been so out of it that he had been unable to pull himself together for long enough to keep a look out for him. When he hadn't been trying to look for a safe place to live, or snatching a few precious hours of sleep, he had been going crazy, wondering about his brother, Sophie, Dale and the rest of his friends. He didn't even know if Dale was still alive.

He couldn't breath. Now was the time. If he turned now, he could still take a few out with his gun. He could go out fighting and not disgrace himself. He reached for his gun and turned.

Suddenly a fire exit door flew open. Hands grabbed Matthew and pulled him into the building. He heard the door slam shut before he could react. He pulled himself out of the hands, which gave him up easily, and whirled around, gun in hand.

"Don't shoot! We're human!" There were only two of them, a man and a woman. The man was huge. The biggest Matthew had seen in a long time, not just in height, but in all over stature. He was muscular and broad shouldered, and looked like he hadn't been hungry in a long time. The other person was a black lady, who looked like she had walked straight out of a comic book. She had a cloak, hair braided down to her shoulders. But the thing that drew his eye the most, was the huge sword that he held in her hands. For a second, Matthew just stared at them. Then the thumping on the door brought him to his senses. The man darted forward and half pulled, half lead Matthew to some stairs.

"The roof, now! Michonne, don't be a hero!" The woman looked back at the door and then ran up the stairs behind them. Matthew was staggering now, shock, exhaustion and hunger all hitting him at once. He felt the hands of the man supporting him. "Come on kid, don't quit on me now, you've got this far, so don't quit. Just get to the roof, and don't quit, don't you dare quit, not when we've come this far to get you." The man kept up the steady stream of meaningless chat as they climbed endless stairs. Somewhere through his befuddled mind, Matthew could hear guns firing outside.

The sunlight came as a shock to his eyes when they finally hit the roof. He fell onto the gravel and for a moment lay there. He was aware of the door slamming shut and someone fumbling with chains. Then he felt a strong hand pulling him up and heard the man speaking.

"Do exactly as I say. Drink." A bottle was pressed to his mouth and water slipped down his throat. Fresh water, not the stale stuff he was lugging around. "Now chew on this. Slowly." The man fed pieces of what tasted like dried beef into Matthews mouth. "Sit up." Matthew sat up slowly, his head spinning. He closed his eyes, and tried not to hurl. When he opened them, the sword lady was staring at his face. He self consciously put his hand to his scar and looked at the floor. Before anyone could speak, a crackling voice came from the mans hip.

"Zxander. Zxander did you get him?" The man, who must have been Zxander, pulled a walky talky out and spoke into it.

"He's here. He's weak. Doesn't seem to have eaten much. He's been in the wars this one. He's got scarring all over his face and one of his eyes."

"But he's ok?" Matthew frowned. He could hear the mans voice over the radio, but he could also hear a voice in the background. A woman's voice. And something about it was bugging him. The voice was insistent. Frantic. But why did it bug him so much? He creased his eyes and tried to focus.

"He has a scar on his face? And one of his eyes?" The voice came over loud and clear. Had the woman snatched it away? "Have you asked him his name? Is he there? What's his name Zxander? Zxander?" Zxander looked at the radio as if he was confused by the question. He looked at Matthew.

"What's your name kid?" Matthew stared at him, and held his hand out for the radio.

"Can I talk to her?" Zxander shrugged and handed over the radio.

"Hello? Hello?" The woman was getting more and more agitated. The memories associated with her voice were getting clearer, just out of reach. He cleared his throat.

"I'm Matthew. Who are you?"

There was a sharp intake of breath. A long pause. Then the woman spoke again. And suddenly it clicked in his head, and he felt like all the breath had been sucker punched out of his body. He didn't really hear what she said, he just listened to the sound of her voice, unable to comprehend that he had ever forgotten it, unable to believe that he was hearing it again.

"Matthew. Matthew are you still there? Listen, we're making our way to you now. You just stay there with Zxander and Michonne. Take out some walkers from the rooftops, show them what you can do. Make me proud ok?" Blinking back tears that had been a long time overdue Matthew whispered back into the radio.

"Yes Georgie."