Disclaimer: I do not own any piece of The Walking Dead franchise. If I did, I would be eating sandwiches with Norman Reedus, not writing fan fiction. The character of Emma Louise Prescott is one hundred percent mine, as she was created by me after watching too many episodes of The Walking Dead.

September

When I was at school I used to pray for silence. I would lock myself away in my room and not answer when the knocks would come, asking if it was okay for a boy to spend the night in a dorm room. That probably didn't make me the best RA in the eyes of the college but in the eyes of the girls I was supervising, I was great. Now that silence surrounds me, my ears are starting to hurt. Sometimes I can't even hear the humid wind when I'm outside.

I've resorted to talking to the chickens and the cows so I don't have to keep talking to myself.

Twice now one of those things that Mama became have made their way onto my land. I turned the lights down low in the house so they couldn't see them from outside the window and just let them roam away. I'm not going to kill anything unless I have to. It's not a moral thing―I think those flew out the window when I stuck a knife into my mama's brain―it's a survival thing. I know I have plenty to live off of but I still don't want to take any chances of a knife breaking or their gurgling noises attracting other things like them.

From my spot on the front porch things seem almost normal. Minus not hearing any noises, it feels like I could be dreaming. A lucid dream, one that I can control my own actions in. Really all that's missing is the sound of gravel cracking due to cars from the road a few yards ahead and the excitement of Daddy coming home from work and telling me all about what he'd done that day. I used to wait for him on this very porch when I was a little girl. I would come home from school, eat my snack and do my homework on the porch until he got home. When he did, he would sit me on his lap and tell me about things like biochemistry and other fancy science things. My Daddy was the coolest Daddy on Earth. The other Daddies of the kids at my school didn't like him very much because he made more money than them and he was a Democrat. There aren't very many "bad words" in our part of Georgia but "Democrat" is at the top of the list. His traits didn't fault me, however: ever since I was little the girls in my class have wanted to be me.

But there's no use in dwelling on that now since they're all likely dead.

I've decided that I'm going to head into town today and see if there's anyone left. I figure that if anyone's alive from this trivial county that's where they'll be. Maybe I can help them with some supplies. I should pack a bag or two incase they need anything.

With a sigh I stand from my perch on the porch. I rub my hands on the front of my jeans and turn to go inside. Hopefully today will bring me someone new to talk to.

-x-

My Ford Focus glides smoothly down the rough surface of the gravel that leads into town. I'm driving slowly as to avoid making too much noise (how funny is it that while I'm so sick of silence I'm scared to make any noise?) and by doing so have started to notice tire marks on the road in front of me. I'm following in their tracks and that gives me new hope that maybe there will be someone in town. Then again it's been two months and the tracks could very well be left from back when things weren't crazy.

Town is only about six miles down the road and I get there quickly. It looks like nobody has been here for awhile―there are no footprints, tire tracks, or any other signs of life―so my hopes of finding someone to talk to are dying by the second. I park my car in the middle of the road and get out quietly, pushing the door closed with my hip. In my hand I'm gripping an axe I grabbed from the garage before leaving, just in case I run into one of the things that Mama became. First, I head in the direction of Milly's General Store. Milly was a woman in her late fifties who inherited the General Store from her great granddaddy's legacy. There's a sign on the door that I read when I approach the handle.

Bell is disabled. Take what you need. May God bless you. -Milly

I open the door and―true to her word―Milly has disabled the bell that once hung above it. A few shelves are knocked over and things have definitely been gone through. It looks like mostly medicine and first-aid supplies are gone. Thankfully I have plenty of those at home. I grab two boxes of tampons and a box of condoms and stick them in my backpack. You never know.

Outside, I see that there is a single "roamer" exploring my car. Swiftly I turn to the side to avoid being seen by it. I take a deep breath, plan out what to do in my head, and before I can turn back around to take care of the situation someone has already done it for me.

A young man in a baseball cap has stuck a screwdriver through the thing's brain and yelled "got it!" for (what I'm presuming is) his group to hear. I stay in my position, my breathing getting more and more erratic as more and more people head to where the young man is standing near my car.

"It has full tank of gas and two backpacks in the backseat," the young man tells a woman with blond hair.

"And you're sure it wasn't here during the first sweep?" she asks, looking around with caution.

"I'm positive. I would have noticed a bright green Ford in the middle of the street."

"There's no need for attitude," the woman scoffs. "They must be around here somewhere. Check and see what's in the backpacks and let's get out of here before they find us. We don't need any more trouble."

Any more trouble? What exactly have these people been through that they don't need any more trouble?

I hear a car door open and peek against the wall I'm behind to see the young man rummage through the backpacks I packed specifically to hand out in case I came across anyone needing help. His eyes go wide as he finds one completely stocked with enough food to last the two of them two weeks and the other packed with water bottles. I tucked away some first aid materials in side pockets but he's too excited about the food to look for them.

"Andrea, look! It's food and water. Maybe Shane was right."

"Who is Shane?" I whisper to myself quietly as I look at them. Of course there has to be more than two of them. Maybe I should have packed more food.

"Looking for me?" a man asks from behind me, and as I turn to look at him I scream based on instinct. My hands are shaking so badly that I drop the axe and before I can bend to pick it up, the man has beat me to it and now holds my weapon out to me. I grab it from him and hold it out in front of me for protection. He laughs at me. "Honey, I don't mean any harm."

"Stay away from me," I warn and push myself as far back against the wall as I can go.

"Shane?" the blond woman calls. "Shane? What's going on?"

"I've found our Ford owner," he calls back, grinning at me in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable. The two come running toward us and another woman appears from behind Shane. "What's your name, sweetheart?" Shane asks me.

"Stay away from me," I repeat, the axe still between us.

Shane laughs loudly and throws his head back. Coming to town was a bad idea. I never should have done this. Leave it to me to get myself killed by something other than a roamer.

"Shane, you're scaring her," the new woman says. She looks to be about my age and as she inches closer to me I keep the axe up. "My name is Maggie," she tells me gently. "We're coming from Atlanta and are just looking for supplies. Is that your car out there on the road?" I nod. "Are you from around here? Are those your only supplies?" I don't reply and instead keep my lips tight and pursed. "We're not going to hurt you. Shane can be a little...intimidating but he means no harm. Promise."

Slowly, very slowly, I lower the axe. With a burst of courage, I explain: "My name is Emma. That is my car, this is my town. I haven't been here since things were normal and I don't know what supplies are left. The backpacks in my car―I packed them incase I came across people who needed them. Are you going to kill me?"

Maggie smiles. "No, we're not going to kill you," she reaches for a backpack that the young man is holding and he hands it to her. She hands it over to me.

"Keep it," I tell her. "You need it more than I do."

"Pardon my asking this," Andrea cuts in, "but if you can afford to give away this much food and water how are you expecting to survive yourself?"

They're all looking at me inquisitively, like I've got something on my face and they're trying to figure out what it is.

"I, um..." Unsure of whether or not I want to tell them about my land, I stop myself short of explaining. "I have enough to go around," I settle on. I'm still telling the truth, just without the details.

"Well we appreciate the help," the young man tells me. "I'm Glenn. This is Maggie," he points to the girl my age who has already introduced herself. "That's Andrea and that's Shane. But I'm sure you figured that out already." I nod. Seemingly all at once, they all take a step backwards to allow me to push myself off the wall. I notice the way Glenn reaches for Maggie's hand. They're obviously together.

"So if you're from here you know your way around, then?" Shane asks after a few seconds of silence.

"Mostly," I tell him. "A few things have changed since I was last here but for the most part things have stayed the same."

"Are there any gas stations near by?" Andrea asks, getting to the point and avoiding small talk.

I shake my head with a frown. "The closest gas station is about twelve miles away to the East. If you're going to try and go there, I suggest doing it before nightfall. You're going to be surrounded by woods and it's better to not be in the dark. Those woods were creepy before things started going bump in the night."

"Damn," she mutters and looks to the sky. "It's probably about one right now. With the amount of gas we've got we can probably get halfway there and need to walk the rest of the way."

Nervously, and out of habit, I begin to bite the inside of my cheek. These people are strangers, I tell myself. They are strangers and five minutes ago you thought they were going to kill you. Do not invite them to your home. Your safe zone. Emma, don't do it.

"Where are you guys coming from?" I ask.

Shane replies, "Fort Benning." At his words, my heart nearly stops. Maybe he knows something about Daddy. Maybe he saw them there and Daddy sent them here for me. "The place was a ghost town," he continues. "Completely gone. Not a soul there."

The excitement I was feeling falls into the pit of my stomach like an apple falls from a tree, never to be seen again. But the hope is still there. The idea that maybe, just maybe, my Daddy is alive and this is a sign from him to let these people into our home. So disregarding all of the bad things that could possibly happen, I look at the group of four in front of me and take a deep breath.

"Would you like a place to stay for the night?"

-x-

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" Maggie asks me in awe as I guide the four strangers into my living room. "You were completely prepared for this. I think you may have been the only people in the world who knew what was coming."

"I knew nothing. It was all my Daddy," I reply and point out a family photo on the mantle above the fireplace. "He was the smartest man I knew. Once he got a hunch...well, I think you can see what happened when Daddy got hunches."

Shane gives me a look and Andrea picks up on it.

"How did he know?" she asks me.

I pause, trying to think of a way to explain my daddy without giving away his secrets. Lucky for me, the Asian boy, Glenn, speaks instead.

"The only thing that would make this place better is a hamburger," he jokes. "With extra cheese!" Maggie laughs at her boyfriend (or whatever she chooses to call him, but they're obviously together) and nods.

"That would be pretty awesome."

I grin and walk to the door leading to the basement. "Well, Glenn, I might just be able to make your dream come true."

As I lead them down the stairs, I can hear a set of footsteps pacing in the living room. I know it's Shane by the heaviness of them―the boots he wears are loud and clunky on the hardwood. I have no idea what it's like in the world outside of my land, and what I came across in town is likely how it is everywhere. By pure chance I found these people who have been through much more than I have. I can do nothing but offer them a warm place to sleep for the night and if they choose not to accept it, well, I will have tried my best to help. I'm even planning on making cheeseburgers for dinner.

"This," I say when my feet hit the ground, "is Daddy's stockpile."

"Holy shit."

"I'm dreaming."

"It's a mirage."

Laughing, I turn to look at the three and notice that Shane has joined them. "Daddy saved food for months. Some summers I would come home from school and help him label and date each item. We would spend hours down here, laughing and concentrating and preparing for what Daddy liked to call 'it'. Never gave me a real name, just said we needed to be ready for 'it'."

Andrea, Glenn, and Maggie move to examine the shelves upon shelves of food. I prop myself onto one of the freezers filled with meat and other perishables like bread, watching them take everything in. Shane follows my moves and copies my behavior.

"What are you hiding?" he asks me quietly so the others don't hear.

"Nothing. I'm not hiding anything."

"You have to be. There ain't nobody left in this world who would be so...kind to people they've never met. Is this some sort of sham to get us into this basement so a buddy of yours can come lock us in and cook us for dinner? Because if it is, sweetheart, we won't go down without a fight."

I give Shane the once-over and take in his appearance for the second time that day. His eyes are dark and cold, untrusting. He reads "serious" and it's obvious that what he says goes for this group. "Listen," I tell him and clear my throat. "I'm not hiding anything from you. Promise. I'm just trying to help y'all out because, no offense, you look like you could use some help."

He laughs dryly. "See, but that's the problem. We do need help. And last time we got help, well..." his eyes move to Maggie. "Last time we got help, things didn't turn out too good."

"If you don't want my help, fine," I told him calmly. "But you should leave before dark. The woods get hard to navigate after sunset."

"We want your help," Andrea cuts in. Shane turns his head to look at her. I think he's annoyed but I haven't known him long enough to tell. "Shane is just...he's just being cautious. It's impossible to take someone's word nowadays, you never know who, or what, you're going to run into out there."

"I wouldn't know."

"You've really been locked away for that long?" asks Maggie. I nod. "A modern day Rapunzel."

"I wouldn't say locked away. I've just kept to myself, that's all. Been waiting for my Daddy to get here."

"Where is he?" Glenn asks, stealing a glace with Shane.

"Last I knew, he was at work." I choose not to go into detail about Fort Benning. They're already weary of me enough, no need to make it worse. "But I know he'll make it back. Daddy knows the back way."

"Are you sure you want to help us?"

The question comes from Maggie who looks so grateful I think she might cry. A good, hot shower will do her good. It will do them all good.

"I'm positive, Maggie. It's the least I can do to thank y'all for not killing me back in town. I've got four bedrooms upstairs, each with their own bathrooms. No hot water limit, we're on our own system. Only thing is I like to keep the lights off at night, just to be safe. Light seems to travel fast these days and I don't want to risk any roamers coming around."

"Hot water?" Glenn asks with wide eyes. "A bed? And cheeseburgers?"

"Yes, and cheeseburgers," I reply with a soft laugh. "Go on up and pick out a room―shower if you'd like. I'll get started on dinner."

The invitation was all he needed to bolt up the stairs and out to their truck to, presumably, get his clothes. Maggie follows him and, after giving a knowing look to Shane, so does Andrea. Shane stands from where he sat on the freezer and I do the same, lifting the cover to reveal at least forty bags of meat and ten loaves of bread. I grab pre-molded hamburger patties, dated 2/17/10, and move to head upstairs. Shane stops me before I can.

"Emma?" he asks.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so hospitable." He stops short, like he wants to say more. He doesn't.

"You're welcome, Shane."

-x-

I notice that they have all showered by the time I get dinner ready. The clothes they wear are dirty and cluttered with holes, and probably the cleanest ones they have at the moment, so I make a mental note to tell them about the washer and dryer out in the garage. Maybe they'll make the time to wash their clothes before they head back out tomorrow. With all of the exciting things to do around the house, though, I'm not too sure that they will.

Carefully, I slice off a third of a stick of butter and place it on top of sweet corn, already in a bowl and ready to be warmed in the microwave. I like to minimize the use of the stove ever since the pilot went out once, a couple weeks ago. It took me a few days to figure out how to fix it―Daddy never prepared me to fix the appliances. The plan was that he would be here to do that sort of thing. Now, as a precaution, I use the microwave when I need something heated up and have begun eating mostly cold meals like sandwiches and vegetables from the garden I've managed not to destroy. I'm down to two a day, skipping breakfast, because I've noticed that sitting around the property and eating all the time isn't doing much for my dancer's figure. Not that I need to worry about my weight, but if it comes to me needing to run, I don't want extra pounds holding me down.

"This smells delicious," Maggie tells me graciously with a smile on her face, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat at the round table Mama insisted on buying two years ago. Previously we had owned a square table large enough to seat four, but Mama wanted to host Christmas with my boyfriend's family of five and decided that the best way to solve the problem was to buy a brand new table. Daddy wasn't too happy when he came home, but got over it because he loved her too much to let her spending habit bug him. I guess he knew there were more important things to worry about.

"Thank you," I reply and hit the number two button, closing the microwave door. I press Start then quickly head to the small Foreman grill I've placed on the countertop to flip the burgers. Four burgers; I'm eating toast with jelly instead, and I figure indoor grilling runs less of a risk than outdoor―this way there won't be a smell to attract any uninvited guests. "When's the last time y'all ate meat? Not to sound rude or anything, but I noticed you and Andrea are kind of frail."

Maggie pauses for a minute to collect her thoughts and then speaks. "It's rough out there, Emma. Real rough. I've seen things I never wanted to see and done things I didn't think I could do in a million years. You do what you need to do to survive and try not to think twice about it. The last time we had a real meal was months ago, at my family farm up North. I still remember it like it was yesterday...but there's no point in dwelling on the past." Her face turns cold as she thinks of what else to say while trying not to cry. "You are very lucky, Emma, that you haven't had to live through what I have." With that, Maggie stands and walks out of the room, leaving me alone with the food. Maybe she had to kill her mama, too.

-x-

"I can't believe I'm eating a cheeseburger!" exclaims Glenn like a child on Christmas who just opened a Red Rider BB Gun. "This is the best day ever!"

The table, minus Maggie, laughs at his enthusiasm. Maggie hasn't spoken a word around me since she stormed out of the kitchen earlier, and I'm beginning to think I said something that struck a nerve. Mama didn't raise me to speak my mind, and it figures that the one time I ever did I managed to offend someone. Daddy was always the one telling me to express my opinions and never let the bastards get you down, but the reality now is that neither Mama or Daddy are here and my mouth, having been unable to open for more than breathing for the last two months, can't seem to stop itself from making a fool out of me.

"I'm glad you like it so much," I tell Glenn with a smile on my face.

"I hate to be a buzz kill," says Shane when things go quiet. "But can I ask why you're all alone? It just seems strange that a young woman like yourself has...survived out here, is all."

Thinking on my feet, I reply.

"For a long time, my daddy had been gettin' hunches that something bad would happen. He started preparing for it years ago, I was maybe in the tenth grade the first time he mentioned stocking up on food." To my surprise, none of their faces turn with disgust when they realize that some food in the basement could possibly be that old. "Let's just say he had a good reason for having hunches. When I went off to Alabama for school, Daddy kept on goin' as if I had never left. Then one day I got a phone call tellin' me it was time, his hunches were right. I came home and Mama was about ready to blow a gasket, she was so scared. Daddy must've called her, too. We got the generators ready to go and then waited for Daddy to come home. But he never did. One day we saw Ms. Adkins from the news get eaten by a roamer and I guess by then Mama had had enough. I woke up a few mornings later and found her hanging from the rafters in the barn. She tried to eat me." My mind goes back to the knife by the sink, the way her head hung from her shoulders like the tear tab on a ketchup packet. I continue. "I...I took care of it, laid her to rest by her petunias. I've been alone ever since, just me and the animals. Waiting for my Daddy."

For the first time since our talk in the kitchen, Maggie looks at me. She has tears in her eyes, but says nothing. Glenn notices the tears and wraps his arms around her for comfort. I think I was right about her having to kill her mama.

"So your mom was bit by a walker, then?" Andrea asks.

"No," I tell her honestly. "Mama never left our land and no...walkers ever got in." It's the first time I've used the term walker to describe the undead and the way it rolls off my tongue entices me. I think I may replace roamer with walker from now on.

Shane and Andrea look at each other and he nods before smirking at me. "Excuse me," he says and pushes his chair away from the table. He heads upstairs and Andrea is not far behind, excusing herself from the table. Maggie and Glenn are next and instead walk out to the back porch.

It seems that even with the best of intentions, I have somehow managed to scare these people away. I won't be surprised if they're gone in the morning, and I'll be even less surprised if half of the food in the basement isn't gone with them.

-x-

I'm on my way to bed when I hear them whispering through the vents. They don't seem to mind being upstairs by themselves, and for the first time in a long time I'm thankful that I'm alone, only because I can hear what they're saying.

"Something just isn't right."

"She has to be hiding something, Shane."

"There's no way this girl has survived for this long by herself. I mean, look at what happened to us and we were part of a group. There's strength in numbers and I think her numbers are hiding in these woods, waiting for the right time."

"Maggie, if that happens we won't go down without a fight. We won't go down at all―I brought the guns into my room."

"But the farm―"

"This isn't your farm, Maggie. This is a whole new territory."

"Did anyone else notice her eyes when Shane mentioned Benning? You think she knows something?"

"Whatever she's hiding, we'll find it. Let's all try to get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow could be a blessing like today or it can be a shit storm. Just gotta be ready for it."

They say goodnight to each other and I hear doors opening and closing, footsteps on the hardwood. After a few seconds of silence, I climb the stairs and head into my bedroom. I close the door, lock it, and change into pajamas before getting into my bed. With a heavy sigh, I roll on to my side to face the window, pulling my blanket over my shoulder and grasping it tightly.

Daddy, this better be worth it.