~Chapter 2~

Game Over

Harley had been walking for hours, but it felt more like years to her. The sun was beating down on her and her t-shirt clung to her skin, soaked through with sweat and blood. She hadn't eaten in two days and she ran out of water hours ago. She should have reached the Jeep already – she began to fear that it had been stolen or she was lost. She laughed with relief when it finally came into her line of sight. Just a few more minutes and you can have a drink and then patch yourself up. Almost there, almost there. Harley started walking as fast a she could, which wasn't very fast in her condition, towards the Jeep.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed something move among the trees that were up on the hill behind the wire fencing at the side of the road. She stopped and stared into the forest. Probably just an animal. Or you're seeing things. She continued walking towards the Jeep. Seconds later she pulled her gun out of the thigh holster she had found a few days ago. There was definitely someone up there. A living person, most likely. Their movements were too quiet for a walker. Then again, she couldn't be 100 per cent sure there was someone up there, given the state she was in. She continued on, even more urgently now, towards the Jeep. If she got in and locked the doors she would be somewhat safer, unless the mysterious figure was really determined to cause her harm. She put her gun away as she approached the Jeep. That was when everything turned to black.

Harley followed the road she had taken into Atlanta back out. The highway out of the city was filling up fast and the other one was deserted. She figured the cops were a bit busy at the time to give her crap about driving on the wrong side of the road and she didn't fancy sitting in another line of traffic knowing what was going on out there and what everyone was trying to escape. She had everything she needed in her Jeep – all of her clothes, her pistol, her father's old hunting knife that she kept around to remind her of him and her few other possessions.

Harley never spent more than six months in one place so she could fit pretty much everything she owned into two or three backpacks. She had an unopened bottle of water and a bag of Peanut M&Ms in her glove compartment so food and water was definitely an issue but she solved that by searching abandoned (and some not so abandoned) cars and by making runs into the city a few days after things had calmed down.

She was getting into a routine – she learned how to get in and out of the city easily enough and learned where to find food, ammunition and other necessities. She would head into the city with an empty backpack and fill it with enough supplies to last her a week at a time, she slept in her Jeep each night and her plan was to eventually stock up on enough dried and canned goods to last her a month so she could leave the outskirts of Atlanta and find somewhere safer to stay for a while. She was getting by. Not much had changed really.

Harley woke up to the ever pleasant sight of a dead person limping past her Jeep. It was the only walker she could see for miles so she got out and crept towards it as quietly as she could.

A few days ago she found the body of a guy who was way too prepared for this type of situation (not that it did him any good in the end). She got a thigh holster for her gun, a belt and sheath that just about fit her knife and a selection of throwing stars that she would probably never learn how to use properly. The knife belt and gun holster were perfect for Harley – they made it a lot more convenient to carry the two weapons. The knife was her primary choice because it was quiet, the pistol was for emergencies. The knife would do nicely with this walker. She grabbed the top of its head and pulled it back towards her as she rammed the knife into the base of its brain. Easy peasy.

Harley headed back to the Jeep and had a quick bite to eat before taking an empty backpack and a bottle of water to bring into the city.

Harley was trying to break into a small, family owned grocery store when the biggest walker she'd seen since the beginning of all of this noticed here. He must have been a bouncer or a cop or something when he was alive – he was huge. He was at least 6''5 and was built like a shithouse wall. Harley was short and thin but stronger than she looked. She couldn't risk shooting him and he was dead after all. She pulled out her knife walked towards him.

As she got closer she realized there was no way she could reach his head at the right angle to kill him. She considered her options. She could run back to the shop and break in before he reached her – she doubted she could get in on time. She could run out of the city until he gave up – then she'd have no food for the night and would have to make another trip in tomorrow. The third and most reckless option was to take her chances killing him. Harley had a long history of reckless behavior. She continued towards the corpse, wishing she had a baseball bat or a crowbar to beat him with. She pushed the walker hoping to knock it off balance and raised her knife, ready to attack. But her attempt to push him did nothing, even in his condition (death, that is). The walker reached out to her and fell right on top of her. Harley grimaced as she felt something slice her right side open. Her knife had been pushed into the flesh between two of her ribs. With something between a scream and a growl she pulled the knife out of herself and stuck it into the walkers face. He continued to drool over her neck, and would get close enough to bite down any second now. She pulled the knife out of his cheek and stabbed him again, a few inches higher this time. His gigantic body finally went still. Harley cried out in pain as she rolled the body that had her pinned to the ground off of her.

She pulled herself up and headed out of the city, desperate to get back to her Jeep where she could bandage herself up before she passed out.

Daryl had killed enough squirrels to feed the whole camp (and he knew half of them would turn the meat down) and no other animals were to be found so he walked through the woods further, looking for the very edge, where he knew the highway into Atlanta could be seen from. He eventually found it and stood in silence looking at the motor graveyard that was the route out of Atlanta. The city was overrun – must have been people trying to escape. He looked at the road leading into the city. It was empty apart from an old black Jeep and a walker staggering towards it. He aimed his crossbow at her and lowered it a second later – she was no threat to him, it would have been a waste of an arrow. The walker stopped moving and looked at him. She continued moving for a bit and then stopped again. She reached to her thigh and pulled out a gun. She was alive, unless the geeks had learned how to use firearms. Daryl watched as she re-holstered the gun and continued towards the Jeep. Suddenly she collapsed onto the road. Daryl ran down the steep hill after her.

Up close he could see that she was a petite blonde in her late 20s or early 30s. She was covered in blood, sweat and dirt and was sickly pale. He climbed the flimsy steel fencing easily and approached her. He pulled up her black t-shirt to inspect her wound. A deep gash spread across the right side of her ribcage. At least she wasn't bitten. He found her keys in her jeans pocket then carried her to the Jeep and lay her down on the back seat before driving back to the quarry.

AN: I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing... (The second section takes place before the first section and the third section takes place at the same time as the first if anyone was unsure). Chapter 3 is gonna be a lot more interesting than the first two, now that I can finally get into the main story. Please leave a review and let me know if you're enjoying this story so far and if you want to read more!

Thanks for reading! x