Author's Note: Hello world and my wonderful readers! Only one more month to the date until TWD returns! I came up with this idea not too long before the mid-season finale, and with the success of Nights in White Satin, I wanted to delve into this more with a different show and a darker approach, as well as implementing an original character in that plays a big role in the storyline. I was a little reluctant to post this because I hadn't seen the mid-season premiere, but I got caught up in a writing flurry and decided to just go with it! This first chapter may be a little slow, but things definitely pick up in the next chapter, so keep reading! I hope this story is as well received as the others. :)

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NOR HAVE ANY AFFILIATIONS WITH THE WALKING DEAD FRANCHISE. ALL PROPERTIES OWNED BY FRANK DARABONT AND AMC (TELEVISION SERIES), ROBERT KIRKMAN AND TONY MOORE (COMIC BOOK SERIES), RESPECTIVELY. I ONLY OWN MY OWN ORIGINAL IDEAS AND CHARACTERS.

Chapter One: Unknown Barricades

Somewhere in Georgia

They had no idea what the time was or the season they were in, nor could they remember the last time they knew the exact date a day was. The only indication of knowing such things was to judge by the sun, the moon, and the wind. Rick Grimes looked up from his spot on top of a hill in the middle of a suburban street, seeing the moon slowly set and the sun in the eastern part of the pale amethyst sky, meaning it was most likely between six and eight in the morning.

He sighed and hung his head down. It had been a little over a month since The Governor and his troops attacked the prison, causing the group to separate in the midst of the ensuing chaos. Rick had genuinely meant what he said about letting them stay. They would be in different cell blocks, what would be the harm? In tough times, people should put whatever differences they may have aside and stick together. Sadly, that was wishful thinking. Zombie apocalypse or not, it was dog eat dog, survival of the fittest all the way.

The image of a smiling Hershel being beheaded by Phillip still haunted him. Rick remembered learning in his high school history class when The French Revolution was being covered, that when beheaded, the decapitated brain could still properly function from as short as a couple minutes to as long as three hours. Either way, it was too late for poor Hershel, who had really become a loving father figure to the group.

Rick thought back on Maggie and Beth, whom he happened to catch a glance of in his peripheral vision. The girls already had fearful looks on their faces, but they became naturally hysterical after seeing their own father, the last link to their family, murdered. After that, it was all a flurry of fired gunshots as Rick and Phillip brawled. He was sure to be a dead man if Michonne hadn't stabbed The Governor through the heart. He wondered where Michonne had gone off to after rescuing him. Any of them, really. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, Daryl, Tyresse, Sasha, Bob. The last thing Rick told Carl was to not look back, and they didn't. He didn't know if he would ever see any of them again…

Maybe he shouldn't have let Carol go. Killing Karen and David may have been unjust, but did she really have a reason to do it again? Who knows? She was better off and somewhere far away, oblivious to the incident.

"Dad?" Rick turned around to see Carl, his fourteen year old son, walk up behind him. He felt so sorry for him. A fourteen year old boy should be doing normal things, like reading comic books and riding skateboards, not killing zombies. Carl had endured so much in the past two years (or what he assumed was two years). From getting shot to losing Lori and now Judith, Rick could see the cracks in the strong façade his son surrounded himself in. The bright eyed shy boy that Carl used to be was nearly gone, although, Rick would still catch glimpses of his innocence from time to time. All of this made him wonder if things would ever change, for they had long given up hope, if they would ever be truly happy again. All they had was each other now, and they needed to do the best they could at everything possible to make sure it stayed that way.

Shortly after leaving the prison, Carl confessed that he had a perfect shot of Phillip, but that Daryl told him not to fire. Rick could see the guilt was wearing away at him just by the look on his face, even though he tried to hide it. It was just like how he had felt about not killing the zombie on the spot that ultimately ripped Dale apart. Not only guilt, but regret. If he didn't listen to Daryl and fired at Phillip, he could have ended it like he said. Maybe they'd still have Judith. The image of her bloody car seat was forever etched into both of their minds, along with more sorrow that they hadn't been able to grab her before it was too late.

"Yeah, Carl. Did you get rid of them?"

He nodded. "Yep, now we can raid the houses. I checked the last five, they were all empty."

"Good job, son. Let's go."

They walked back to the house that Carl had walked the zombies out of. This was the tenth neighborhood they hit in about a month, for it was an all day job executing the hidden walkers and looking through every nook and cranny of a house to find whatever they may need. They had found some things to last them for a while, but by no means had they come across a surplus of food and supplies.

It was easy to indicate which houses had been properly evacuated and which ones had missed the boat, judging by the bare cabinets for the former and the skull remnants and walkers for the latter, which ended up having more to choose from.

"We should make this quick, we have a long day ahead of us, and you know the time is valuable. I'm getting a bad vibe here." Rick could have sworn he saw a shadow going back and forth between the houses, and although it had been light enough, he couldn't make out a face. Perhaps he was having his hallucinations again, but it couldn't be, could it?

Rick and Carl walked inside. It looked like it could have been a nice house at one point, but now it looked like a tornado swept through it. Furniture ripped apart, holes in the walls, a broken staircase railing and broken windows, stained carpets, and most of the doors were hanging off the hinges. They cautiously walked through what was believed to be the living room into the kitchen. What they didn't know was that there were walkers that Carl hadn't seen.

They immediately went to work, searching all the cabinets and drawers. Carl opened a drawer by the dishwasher to find a handful of large kitchen knives and a sharpening stick. "Whoa! Look at this knife set, Dad!" Carl was pretty excited as Rick walked over to inspect the set.

"What do you know, there's still some good ones in here. Great work, Carl."

They exchanged a smile that was cut short by the sound of rustling upstairs, causing them to look up at the ceiling. "Did you check upstairs?"

"Yes, the whole house. I cleared the walkers out and nobody was here."

The apprehension that Rick had in the back of his mind began to creep up a little, but forced himself to shrug it off. "I'm sure it's probably the sounds of the house. Let's hurry it up, though."

Along with the knives, they found three boxes of macaroni and cheese, pots, and a bunch of soup cans. This was turning out to be one of the better raids they had been on, it would be enough food to last for about a week.

"I think we've found everything non-perishable here, now for upstairs." They grabbed their findings and walked out, but not before coming face to face with three walkers. These walkers must have been basketball stars before turning, not only judging by their uniforms, but also because they were taller than Rick, most likely over 6"2. Ahh, fuck! That's what the sound upstairs was! I knew it! Carl took out a knife and Rick already had his hand on his gun, they were ready to attack when…

SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

The sound emitted loudly, and one by one, the zombies became decapitated instantly. It happened so quickly that neither Rick nor Carl could see what it was that saved them, until they saw something flying back the direction it came from, followed by a snapping noise, which made them turn around. There was a girl on the staircase landing. Rick scrunched up his eyebrows, staring her down, as did Carl. It's that figure I saw earlier! That was who it must have been upstairs!

"Who are you?"

THATS WHEN TWD THEME SCORE STARTS PLAYING ;]

WHO WAS IT THAT SAVED THEM? FIND OUT IN CHAPTER TWO: SALVAGE , COMING SOON! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW AND SPREAD THE WORD! NO FLAMES!