Hey everyone! Welcome to the 4th chappie' of Epiphany. I apologize for the extremely late update, but I was VERY busy and kind of disappointed with my lack of reviews and etcetera.
I, however didn't let that get to me because this story got a lot of hits and I'm in love with the new season. I want to hurry up and get chapters out and get this story going where it needs to be!
Daryl is bae as we all know and in this chappie, more WD characters finally appear, especially... NO SPOILERS.
you'll just have to read to find out!
A big thank you to all reviewers and this who favorites and alerted. It made me glad and happy! (Triple D stands for three things in this chappie, as a hint)
Disclaimers: I do not own The Walking Dead. Trust, if I did... Zenora would be real and Daryl would be MINE.
Btw, this story was made to showcase a more racial eccentric side to The Walking Dead. If any terms used are essentially offensive, I mean them in the lightest way possible and no harm is wanted.
(I'm black myself and NOT racist at all.)
Rated T for language, violence and racial slurs, some romantic situations not present yet. (Rating subject to change in later chapters)
Chapter 4: Triple D
"Come on, man!" The dark haired man angrily slammed his fist onto the horn, beeping it. The ongoing traffic of cars crowded the Georgia highways.
Shane Walsh grazed his tongue over his lips, as he tapped his foot on the accelerator, slowly inching the car forward. The sounds of many different car horns beeped, as everyone else was trying to reach the city of Atlanta.
Lori consciously shook her head, clasping her hands together after she tucked a loose stand of brunette behind her ear.
"... Lori, baby... I don't think we should go to Atlanta." Shane finally said, giving a look of concern to the woman. He stared honestly into her widened blue eyes, prepared to hear her protests.
"W-We have to go! The news said it was safe there..."
Before Shane could respond, she interrupted him, "Where else will we go? How will we live? What about my Carl-" The middle aged brunette whipped her head around and reached in the backseat, roaming her fingers through her sleeping son's dark tresses.
A soft smile plastered on her face but as fast as it formed, is as fast as if turned upside down into a frown.
"I just think... that with so many people in the city, it's bad luck, Lor'. We could set up a camp-"
"And sleep in the woods? No, Shane. It's bad enough I don't have Rick with me..." Lori paused, looking down at her trembling hands. "... Just do what you think is right. That's the least I can do to repay you for saving Carl and I."
She felt his fingers interlace with hers and her thin lips curved into a hopeful smile at the tight squeeze he gave to her hand.
"I'm gonna' keep you safe, okay?"
Lori nodded her head. "Okay."
.
.
.
Zenora brought the frying pan down on what was about her sixth kill for the day. Her breaths hitched and the walker let out a final growl, dropping dead.
She wiped the imminent sweat from her forehead, not taking a look back as her journey down the road begun again. Thank God this is a small town close to the highway... She thought to herself, swinging the bloodied frying pan at her side.
It had only been an hour since she left Lori's house and three hours since Shane left her there, himself.
Her eyes widened and she cracked a crooked grin at the sight of a bike crashed into the long blades of grass, coming up ahead of her.
Zenora pushed her tired body to run over to the bike, immediately frowning and scrunching up her nose at the foul smell slapping her cheek and sneaking up her nose.
"Damn, that stinks." She seethed, automatically covering her mouth and nose with the baggy sleeves of the plaid shirt she wore. Zenora slowed her running into a walk and tip-toed over to the discarded bicycle.
She checked the bike's chain, pedals and brakes, smiling to herself when everything was in tact. Her eyes widened at the mess laid out a few feet before her. She slowly walked forward; a bloody carcass of a teenage boy. His insides were torn out and his face portrayed a look of terror. The boy's mouth formed a perfect 'o' and his milky were widened.
"I'm sorry, sweet-pea..." Zenora whispered to the dead boy, picking up his bike and straddling the seat. She frowned a bit when she noticed his eyes blinking and heard a low growl emit from the back of his throat and placed her foot on the pedal, cruising off down the long Georgia road.
Three Days Later
Zenora Brown's POV
I counted three days in my head.
I knew I was lost and probably nowhere near Atlanta. If it wasn't for the large, bright yellow detour sign blocking the only way I knew to get to that damn place, I'd be skipping happily into the city barriers supposed to be set up and I'd be safe. For good.
I ended up peddling down a narrow dirt road and ended up in the middle of nowhere.
Smashed a couple of them peoples I decided to call niggas along the way and then had to cross a large ravine, eventually leaving the bike behind due to a flat on one of the tires.
Damn, Zenora. You seem to find bad luck every where you go... I thought to myself, shaking my head as I pressed on through some underbrush in the wooded area I was crossing through. I had to face the facts that I was lost in my own state of Georgia. I had no idea in hell where I was going and what was even going on in the world.
I wasn't dumb by a long shot though and from the notes I took in my head, I figured them people were zombies... Or something to that effect. The blood, the growls, the clawing, the attempts to bite at me... It all added up.
I started losing hope when I popped the last Tylenol pill I had scavenged from Rick and Lori's house and used up the last of my rubbing alcohol on my wound. The only way I could bandage myself is if I came across a stream or source of clean water and rewash the gauges I had wrapped around previously.
I let out a sigh, sucking in a bit of air at the pain in my lower stomach. Not from my healed wounds... but from hunger. I hadn't eaten, probably since I woke up from that hospital and my stomach was growling. Sounded like one of them niggas, themselves. My insides probably started to eat each itself by now.
I stepped over a discarded log belonging to a tree, but stopped midway at the large pile of shit on the other side. I frowned, scrunching my nose at the smell it gave off. Probably smelled more worse than the walking dead.
It had to belong to a animal of some kind. It ain't take rocket science for me to figure out that it was a deer. I thought about a fairly sized animal prancing through this thick wooded area, not having a care in the world. It didn't have to worry about niggas trying to eat it alive. But the thoughts of it's happiness soon changed when my stomach quenched out a large growl. Hunger was on my mind and... I knew I wasn't no true country bumpkin who ate forest animals but a deer did sound good to me!
Hell, this was Georgia. We should all be used to eating types of animals like that... unless you lived in the city of Atlanta, which I didn't.
Not noticing that I was as still as a block of ice, my attention focused on just what I thought of before.
The light brown deer, large as hell about up to my stomach, thin with fur but thick with meat, came trotting across the underbrush near the log. It stopped halfway, cocking it's bare head to the side at the sight of me.
My grip tightened on the plastic handle of my frying pan and as if time stopped, he froze.
I slowly inched the frying pan up higher, closing one of my eyes to focus my aim on the deer... A clean knock to the head and he'd be down and out. I almost felt as bad as I did before but I couldn't worry about that right now. A girl had to eat.
A couple more seconds passed before I lunged forward, swinging the weapon at the deer.
He was fast.
Mighty fast.
I only managed to bang the pan against his hip, which slowed him down a bit as he dashed over underbrush and through the woods.
I sighed quickly, getting my bearings before pushing my body to run after the animal, in the direction he went.
The deer made it's way into a small clearing, surrounded by lush, green bushes. Using my wits, I did what any smart person would do; hide in a bush.
I let out a quick sigh, pushing a loose strand of my thick, light brown hair that stuck out my ponytail, behind my ear. I had a little hope of relief when the deer seemed to have forgotten about me and trotted over to a patch of the bushes near the one I hid it.
I tensed for a bit, ready to emerge from my hiding place and knock him out clean.
The deer fell to the grassy floor with a thud! as shock washed over me; an arrow was sticking out of his neck. Blood oozed from the wound as he struggled to breath and rise up.
I decided to end his suffering so I walked over to him, bringing my frying pan down on the arrow, to lunge it deeper into his neck and possible severe a major artery.
I have no idea where this arrow came from and it made me tense, just a little. Them walkers couldn't shoot arrows, could they? I crouched down ready to dislodge it but then the bushes started to rustle beside me. I sure as hell didn't want niggas all over my newly found food, so I stood up tall and strong, frying pan raised in a protective and offense stance ready to use if needed.
To my surprise, a tall gruff looking white man crept out slowly with a crossbow pointed at my head. "Who are ya'?" He asked in his heaving southern accent. His blue eyes pieced mine and his grip on his bow tightened.
I was half glad to see another person after the past few days but also annoyed that it had to be some country bumpkin, redneck with a damn crossbow, ready to shoot me dead. "Who is you?" I fired back, making sure my light voice shrilled over his ears and he could hear the southern drawl in my voice, as well.
This man didn't budge, so I didn't either.
Normal POV
Zenora inched a step back when his grip on the crossbow's trigger failed to never move. His eyes were locked, dead set on her. The sharpened arrow was ready to pierce any part of her body he shot once it was released and projected through the still Georgia air.
The back of her combat boots hit the dead carcass of the deer. Zenora whipped her head back to get a good glance at it and then turned back around to face the man in front of her.
Her chocolate brown eyes roamed over his slight muscular build and the one tattoo plaguing over the side of his upper arm. He had short, silky but dingy dark-brown hair matted against the back of his neck and his forehead. The white man wore typical redneck attire, consisting of a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off and baggy jeans, topped off with dark brown boots. His thin, pink lips formed a scowl as he noticed her sizing him from his head to his toes.
It seemed like forever before he lowered his crossbow a little at the same time the light skinned woman lowered her melee weapon.
"... Nice shot." She blankly said, still cautious as his eyes left hers, looking over at the carcass of the deer.
He suddenly brought his crossbow back up and Zenora immediately panicked, throwing her hands up in the air and dropping her metal, frying pan. It hit the ground with a loud thud! and she bit her lips, nervously.
"C-Come on, man! What the hell did I do to-"
"Shut up." He said, closing one eye and peering the other into the scope lens provided on his crossbow. The dark haired man's hand pressed on the trigger and without a sense of hesitation he pulled it back and the arrow shot forward with immense speed.
Zenora expected another wound to be in a random part of her body, but instead, she felt nothing. She quickly opened her eyes that she had snapped shut and patted various areas of her slightly curvy body, laughing nervously when she found no arrow puncture her skin and stick out.
"I ain't and wasn't gonna shoot you, girl." She heard the man say before walking towards her.
Zenora let out a nervous gulp, taking a stride back before tripping over the deer and what was know a dead walker. Her chocolate brown eyes roamed over the black arrow with highlighter yellow tails decorating the tips. It was lodged directly into the side of the walkers head.
He saved me... She thought, watching as he snatched the arrow out of the walker's head, reload it into his crossbow and shoot it in the same spot again.
He spat on the dead walker, taking the arrow out before wiping the bloody residues on it's tattered clothing. "Good riddance, geek. Messing around over ma' food." He shook his head at the sight of Zenora Brown, shaking a bit and then took the arrow out of the deer's neck, repeating his last process.
Her chocolate brown eyes roamed over the blood pouring out of the dead walker's mouth and then to the intestines and guts pried and ripped from the deer's stomach. "Damn that nigga musta' been hungry. He ravaged all the food..." She said in between a frown. "Poor deer. And poor me. No food now..."
"Nigga?" The redneck mumbled, giving her a look of subtle confusion. He rested his crossbow over his shoulder, pointing a suspecting finger at the light skinned female perched on the grassy, dirt grounds. "That there... was my deer."
He kicked the side of the dead walker with the tip of his boot. "And this asshole fucked it up!"
His deer? Zenora thought with a grimace on her face. I'm the one who caught that shit fair and square.
His attention was off of the walker and back to her. "So... talking about your own kind, huh?"
Finally standing up, the light skinned woman's lips formed a scowl and she stood up, letting her hands rest on her hips. She leaned all of her weight on one leg, snapping her head forward like a typical sassy subject. "Is you dumb... or is you stupid?" -
"I ain't neither because I know I ain't blind and my eyes do see the nappy hair and brown skin, nigger." He sneered back, anger laced in his southern tone. "You just called that damn geek a nigger, and ain't that what you is?"
Her hands left her hips and she crossed them over her chest. "Zenora Brown is my birth name and I know for a fact that I ain't no nigga and ain't no dead man who rose up again."
"That don't answer my question, lady." He simply said, crossbow off of his shoulder and back pointed at her.
"What the hell are you doin'? I thought we already established that me and you is on the same side!" - "I told you my name so why don't you put that damn thing down and spit yours out?!" Zenora found herself grabbing her frying pan again, not having a care that she was in his line of fire.
"Daryl Dixon." He quickly said as if venom burned his mouth. "Now shut up and ya' better come with me..."
"To where, cracker. To where?" She bellowed to him, with furrowed eyebrows and raised arms that fell back down to her sides.
Zenora Brown's eyes narrowed into slits as she noticed his finger itch on the bow's trigger. "Watch it girl..." - "And I gotta camp set up. The others will know what to do with you."
That thought raced through her mind. Others... There are others...? With a hopeful smile tugging on her slightly chapped lips, Zenora let her tongue slightly graze over the two pieces of thin flesh, moisturizing them a bit. She didn't hesitate to follow him, even with the crossbow pointed in the direction of her head.
"Lead the way, redneck-nigga!" She beamed, laughing for the first time in so long at the look of disgust yet amusement that flashed on his face.
.
.
"We sent you hunt and you come back with a nigger?" - "I mean I never had dark meat before but I guess it's a start to somethin' new in this fucked up world we now livin' in, huh Daryl?" Daryl's older brother smirked, crossing his arms over his muscular and broad chest at the sight of his younger brother waltzing into camp with the African American woman, Zenora Brown.
"Shut up Merle. Some damn geek started eatin the shit out of the deer I tracked. A real big and juicy one! Meat that coulda lasted us for days, man. And then this one," he spat, pointing to Zenora with his crossbow. "She claimed it was her deer. But last time I checked, I'm the one whose been tracking 'em for the longest! She didn't smell his shit, she didn't scamper for his hoof prints!"
Merle rolled his light blue eyes and nodded his head mockingly at his little brother. "I see, brother. I see." He turned to Zenora. "Now, Chocolate Drop, what are you gonna do to appease me, my brother and all the other hunkies living in this here camp. Hm?"
Zenora had her hands placed on her hips once again. Her eyes roamed over Daryl Dixon, whom she just met in the woods, his other brother Merle Dixon, who was pissing her off and the set up camp surrounding them. Different tents were perched on the ground. A giant RV rested in the middle of the entire camp and she could tell by the way it was all set up in the middle of a large clearing, it was possibly a safe place.
But still.
"I ain't ask to be here in the first place..." She trailed off, shifting uncomfortably at the way both Dixon brothers stared at her as if they could peer right into her soul.
Before another word could be exchanged between the three of them, "What the hell is going on here?" - "Merle? Daryl? Where's the food we sent y'all to huntin'?"
Merle smirked deviously and pointed to Zenora. "Why don't ya ask Chocolate Drops here, Shane?" - "Daryl is the one who came back with that instead of the deer."
As if the wind was knocked right out of her, the light skinned woman nearly collapsed on the ground. Her arms protectively hovered over the side of her stomach where her healed wounds lay. "Sh-Shane?" She managed to get out, through gritted teeth.
At the sound of her light, yet southern and fierce voice, Shane Walsh halted and nearly jumped at seeing her again. His sudden shocked expression turned to pure anger and he dashed over to her, seething in her ear, "Shit. What the hell are you doing here?"
Shane grabbed her arm, yanking her in place to stand in front of him and caughing her to wince and attempted to be released from his tight grasp. "Did you follow us, huh? Because I swear. I won't hesitate to ki-"
"Get them hands off of me, Shane." - "I got here no thanks to you and Lori." She fired back, trying to snatch her arm out of his grasp. Her attempts left him pinning both arms, painfully behind her back. He didn't give a care about any of the ruckus he was causing at the moment as she struggled to be released.
"G-Get off me!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, only to be stifled with a slap to her face from Shane.
"You think I'm letting you walk free and join us? Bitch, you got another thing coming! You and your dumb pals shot my buddy, Rick! Y'all caused him to go in a coma!" Shane angrily retorted, while glaring at the different people who started to gather around where they were.
The situation was fast out of control when Zenora sunk her teeth into his clothed shoulder, as a way of defense. He let out a scream, letting her go and she immediately grasped her frying pan, banging it on his other shoulder.
Shane hit the ground, and instead of getting back up, he swooped a leg under hers, making the light skinned woman drop her melee weapon and hit the ground along with him. He scrambled on top of her, delivering a punch to her lower abdomen, smirking at the sight of her pain.
He raised a fist to punch her again but halted at the sight of a crossbow pointed directly at his head.
"Get off her, man. Ya' don't ever hit no woman unless she one of them geeks we all gonna' have to start killin' to live." Surprisingly Daryl Dixon found himself saying.
"Yes, Shane. Daryl is right. We all sinned but we all have a right to live." A burly old man came, inching forward to the estranged police officer. He slowly raised his hands and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Release the young girl, please."
"This ain't nobody's business but mine, Daryl and Dale. So just mine ya' own!" Shane simply said, seeming to be calm.
"Get off her or I'll shoot, Shane. We ain't got nothing to los-"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Merle stepped forward. He let out a hard cough but then broke out into a long chuckle, startling everyone who watched the scene laid out before them.
"Last time I checked... we all had jobs to do over here. You got my brother standing up for this negro woman and you got me and everybody else up in here starving and craving some damn deer meat." Merle espied, narrowing his eyes at Shane. He gently pushed him off of the trembling Zenora, smiling wistfully as she flinched when he yanked her to her feet.
"Save this teary reunion for later and let's get to feeding these and my hungry mouths." Merle clapped as the sudden tension was dropped and a slightly cheerful mood began to spread once Shane gave a final glare to the light skinned woman and stalked off to some other part of the camp.
"Chocolate drop." He exclaimed, catching the attention of the African American woman. "You owe us for saving yer' ass. So you'll be the one huntin' our next meal. I'll be sure to use your black ass for bait if it comes down to it."
She quickly wiped a tear from her eye and as if nothing never happened before and Shane didn't just try to hurt her, she held her head up high, back to her naturally strong -willed attitude. "My name ain't no Chocolate Drop. Zenora Brown is it, and redneck-nigga's older brother... You is such a pig."
Merle simply smiled at her closing remark. "Oink, oink baby."
A/N:
Okay, finshed.
Was this worth the read? I'd love and I crave to know.
Were either characters in place? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Needs work? Wanna flame me? Enlighten me with your words, praise, criticism and flames/whatnot.
As a writer, we wanna know these things.
So, you all know how some people in The Walking Dead have their own term for walkers, such a geek, and all that good jive?
Zenora has her own, which is "nigga". Not racial slur, nigger, but term that most use as homeboy when it actually means ignorant; nigga. Not nigg-ER, but nigg-AH.
I the first term and despise it being used but nigga an exception for it meaning "ignorant person".
Idk, it just ended up being typed along with the story. I occasionally will change it with something else, so some people don't find it offensive.
Anywho, please review. And I will answer any question needed to be asked in my next update.
Thanks For Reading!
Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan