++++++ I do not own the Walking Dead or any affiliated characters apart from my OC's ++++++

Fifteen

Not much was said at the funeral.

A couple words out of a bible from Herschel about Shawn and Annette, some tears from the both Maggie and Beth but the rest of us were like statues. Ebony had managed to find this skin tight black dress in the clothes we had salvaged and practically forced me into wearing it with my boots and this little red jacket-it wasn't tactically sound but it was a lot cooler. My side arm was strapped to my thigh as always. Even if I didn't have my bow on me at this point, I was never really unarmed.

Once the funeral was over I went back side-by-side with Ebony and Jade, my rabbit skipping and playing around ahead of us with Sophia. My best friend had been in a constant happy mood since we had been asked to stay by Herschel. Although she was sad because Carol wasn't allowed to stay and I think given that their pasts were so similar they had become so close.

"What does Velox mean?" Carl asked, walking behind me with Lori and Rick. "You have it tattooed on your arm."

Rick cleared his throat. "Yeah I noticed it on your dog tags as well. What does it mean?"

"It's my call sign," I answered, looking ahead. "It's Latin for speedy. I'm fast, quick, nimble, my actions are quick but so is my mind. It's a family thing, we all have Latin call signs. It's a bit of a family tradition," I told them. "When we turn eighteen our father gives us our call sign after we enlist. Six generations of my family have been marines-father's, cousins, brothers. I'm actually the first girl to be born to our family line."

"That must have been hard growing up in a family of boys," Lori pointed out.

I shrugged. "Not really. I wasn't treated any differently. There was seven of us. Me, Michael and Matthew. Or Robur and Calculo, Latin for strength and calculator. They're twins but never have you met any two boys that are too different. Then you've got Theo or Caligo which is Latin for darkness. Followed by Kevin-his call sign is Latro, its Latin for Hunter. He was Delta Special Forces-haven't seen him in months. My second eldest brother is Jacob-he's a doctor, dad called him Medicus. First born is my brother John, call sign Rex which is Latin for King."

"That's some tribe you have there," Carol pointed out.

"You should see Christmas," I laughed. There was a sudden pang of sadness in my heart…I missed them terribly. All of them. Even John who was the biggest ass hole of them all. I stopped dead, eyeing Herschel as he lingered around the barn.

"Babe?" Ebony frowned. She knew how close I was with my siblings, I'm pretty sure that there had been something between her and Jacob at some point-he adored Jade like she was his own. They'd even went on a date at one point. If the world hadn't gone to shit, she and Jacob would have had that second date.

"I'm gonna go talk to Herschel, go on," I urged her. I turned and walked over to Herschel. The closer I got, the more it looked like he was up to something. "Heading somewhere?" I asked him.

"You don't miss a thing do you?" he answered.

I shrugged. "I like to think that I'm on the ball," I smirked. "Where are you heading?" I asked him. "To do something stupid I imagine?"

"I'm going into town," he told me. "For a drink. Alone."

"Great," I answered. "I'm coming with you." Herschel stepped away from me but I grabbed his shoulder. "Come on, Herschel, if you're gonna get blithered at least let me keep an eye on you. Plus you should always have a designated driver."

He stared at me. Herschel thought it over and eventually he gave in. "Ok. Fine."

I grinned. "I'll drive."

We headed towards my Jeep and in twenty minutes the two of us were in a nice little bar back in town enjoying a fantastic forty year old Craig with nothing but peace and quiet between the two of us. We stayed there, the two of us, like that for a couple of hours, only a single walker disrupting the peace-I stabbed him in the head with my boot knife. We went back to our whisky. It was just about night time when Rick and Glenn found us at the bar, midway through a second bottle of scotch.

"There you are," Rick sighed, leaning up against the bar. "We've been worried sick about you both. Herschel, we need you back at the farm."

"Why?" Herschel asked him. "I've been safe, PJ was with me the whole time."

I raised my shot glass and saluted Rick before knocking it back. I poured myself another, "take a load off, boys."

"Beth's sick," Rick frowned. "Drowning your sorrows in alcohol won't help. Herschel I understand. You thought there was a cure. You can't blame yourself for holding out for hope."
"Hope?" he laughed. "When I first saw you running across my field with your boy in your arms, I had a little hope he would survive."
"But he did," Rick pointed out.
"He did," Herschel agreed. "Even though we lost Otis. Your man Shane made it back and we saved your boy. That was the miracle that proved to me miracles do exist. Only it was a sham, a bait and switch. I was a fool, Rick, and you people saw that. My daughters deserve better than that."
Rick stared at Herschel. "I promised Maggie that I'd bring you home safe. So what's your plan, Herschel? Finish that bottle? Drink yourself to death and leave your girls alone?"

Rick was baiting him.
"Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm!" Herschel snapped. "You people are like a plague! I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroyed it all!"
"The world was already in bad shape when we met," Rick pointed out.
"And you take responsibility!" he shouted. "You're supposed to be their leader!"
"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Rick asked him.
"Yes," Herschel sighed. "Yes. Yes, you are."
"Now come on," Rick urged. "Your girls need you now, more than ever."

Herschel sighed. He knew that Rick was right but was having a hard time saying it. "I didn't want to believe you. You told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe it. But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I've been. That Annette had been dead long ago and I was feeding a rotten corpse! That's when I knew there was no hope. And when that little girl came out of the barn, the look on your face - I knew you knew it too. Right? There is no hope. And you know it, like I do. Don't you? There is no hope for any of us."

I opened my mouth, ready to suggest that we take this back to the farm when the double doors crashed open, revealing two scruffy looking men-one short and fat, the other tall and skinny. Both were armed and had that glint in their eyes like they had just seen something they liked and were going to do whatever they could to get it. I sat the glass down on the counter and rested my hand on my gun.

"Evening gentlemen," Rick nodded, politely.

"I'm Dave," the tall one declared. He looked at me and licked his lips slightly. "That scrawny-looking douche bag is Tony."

"Eat me, Dave," Tony grumbled.

"Hey," Dave smirked. "Maybe someday I will."

"Aren't you two worried about the walkers?" I asked him, looking at their pitiful excuse for protection.

"Walkers?" Dave laughed. "That what you call them?"

Glenn nodded. "Yeah."

Dave nodded. "That's good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains."

"More succinct," Tony announced. He was trying to act smarter than he was. I didn't like the look he was giving me. Every so often their eyes would return to me making me think today was a bad day to be wearing a dress.

"Ok," Dave laughed. "Tony went to college."

"Two years," Tony smirked.

Want a medal? I asked myself.

"You all look like you could use come company," Dave announced, nodding in my direction. "Especially you, honey."

"Don't call me that," I answered back.

Rick stepped in front of me, putting me out of view. We don't know anything about you."
"No, that's true," Dave nodded. "You don't know anything about us. You don't what we had to go through out there, the things we've had to do. I bet you've had to do some of those things yourself. Am I right? 'Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same."

"Where you from?" Rick asked them. He didn't like anything about them-I could see it in the way he was holding himself.
"Philadelphia," Tony answered.
"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia," Rick pointed out.
"Feels like we're a long way from anywhere," Dave shrugged.
"Well, what drove you south?" Rick asked. Typical cop, trying to grab at any sort of information that he could. It was a good trait and given my buzzed state, it was incredibly hot to say the least.
"Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather," Dave admitted. "I must have dropped thirty pounds in sweat alone down here."
"I wish," Tony laughed.
"No, first it was D.C," Dave continued. "I heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumour about a way out of this thing."
"One guy told us there was a coast guard sending in the gulf, sending ferries to the islands," Tony told us. "The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country, Kansas, Nebraska."
"Nebraska?" Glenn laughed.
"Low population, lots of guns," Tony smirked.
"Kind of makes sense," Glenn shrugged.

Sounded like my family.
"Ever been to Nebraska, kid?" Dave asked Glenn. "There's a reason they call 'em "flyover states."

"Nice gun," Rick frowned, nodding at Dave's gun.
"Not bad, huh?" he smirked. "I got it off a cop."
"I'm a cop," Rick answered, coldly.
"This one was already dead," Dave laughed.

"We should be getting back," Glenn told Rick. "Beth's sick, you promised Maggie you'd get her back to the farm."

A sick smirk appeared on Dave's face. "Well, hang on a second. This-this farm sounds pretty sweet, don't it sound sweet, Tony?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, real sweet."
"Yeah, how about a little Southern hospitality?" Dave asked, moving around the room to get a better view at me. "We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more, we could pool our resources, our manpower. Looks like your friend there needs some more manpower in her life."
"Look, I'm sorry, that's not an option," Rick answered. His whole body tensed up as Dave singled in one me. It's not that I couldn't defend myself, not at all-I'm a one woman army.
"Doesn't sound like it'd be a problem," Dave argued. "What's say you, girly?"

"Go suck a lemon," I replied.

"No," Rick snapped.
"You gotta understand," Dave growled. "We can't stay out there. You know what it's like."
"Yeah, I do," Rick agreed. "But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking."
"Keep looking?" Dave snapped. "Where do you suggest we do that?
"I hear Nebraska's nice," I retorted.
"Nebraska?" Dave laughed. "Listen, bitch…"

Before I could argue with Dave any more, Rick pulled out his gun and shot Tony and Dave straight in the head.

I slipped off my seat and walked over towards the window. "We need to leave," I warned Rick.

"Why?" he asked me.

I turned back to Rick. I could see figures running around outside, all armed. "We're not alone."