Count Your Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's Note: So this is a rebirth of my old story of Tears in the Veil: Wandering with the Dead. Instead of making it a crossover I just decided to go with an OC character in the Walking Dead. If you've read the story this was based on you will find some similarities so don't be surprised about it.

"Talking"

Thoughts

Some say that there are an infinite amount of universes. That for every decision, for every crossroad we find ourselves upon, there exists another world where one thing went one way or another. Or it could all be bullshit. Either way it wouldn't stop this fucking fist from punching me square in the nose.

I felt two knuckles hit my nose and felt it burst open like an egg. I could have handled more, always could, but I chose to fall down. I felt a foot kick me in the ribs once, then twice, and then a third before the old man got tired.

I heard him huffing and puffing as he walked toward his lazy boy and sat down. I laid there pretending to be unconscious. The beatings were always worse when my "mom" wasn't around. I waited for him to pass out drunk but to my surprise he stood up.

"Fucking son of a bitch." I heard him murmur.

I opened my good eye and watched him go down the hall; however, instead of going to his room he stopped in front of my sister's room. I watched as he licked his lips nervously before opening the door. Whatever restraint he had, I watched as it snapped as he stepped into her room with intent.

"Bastard." I growled out as I pushed my beaten body onto my feet.

I reached for the fire iron and pulled it from its holder near the fire place. I shook my head to clear my double vision before walking unsteadily toward my sister's room.

"Daddy? What are you doing?" I heard my sister ask frightened.

"Shush. Don't worry." I heard him whisper.

I stepped cautiously over the wooden floors as to not make a sound. I almost abandoned all caution as his pants dropped but I was close enough to not have to worry about him touching her. Without making a sound I swung the fire iron right into my father's knee. He squealed in agony as his leg snapped and fell to his left side and onto his chest. Without missing a beat I slammed the body of the fire iron into his neck where his C-7 and C-8 vertebra was and was satisfied as his pathetic writhing stopped.

I was always smarter than what people thought. Irony, I wanted to be a doctor. To heal and help people, but here I am using my knowledge to break a man down.

"Isaac?" My sister whispered in fright but I ignored her.

"Did you hear that father? That was the sound of your spine breaking. Right now you should feel partial if not full paralysis of your entire body. You're a quadriplegic now. " I said vindictively as I dropped the fire iron of the floor as he gasped weakly trying to catch his breath.

"There's a whole list of health problems that come with that. The paralysis you already know. The next is that you'll have weaken breathing which isn't a good thing when you're lying on your chest. Let me help you with that." I said as I pushed his limp body on his back.

"You…little e…fucker…" My father managed to get out in between shallow breaths.

"Yeah I know." I said as I stood up and fetched the belt from his discarded pants.

"We should have had you aborted." My father said as he caught his breath.

"Probably. Lord knows it would have been a slightly different night for you if you had." I acknowledged as I walked over to him with belt in hand.

"Sophia look away and cover your ears. You've already seen too much tonight. You don't have to see what happens next." I ordered and I could hear her whimpering.

"But…Isaac…" She cried out.

"But nothing. Put your head under the blanket and cover your ears. NOW!" I yelled at her and I was happy to see she followed my orders.

"Do it you little shit. I fucking dare you." My father whispered out with what little breath he had.

"I will, don't worry about that." I said as I wrapped the belt around his neck.

I tightened the belt to as far as it would go and took satisfaction in his chocked gasps. I used the belt as a rope and with effort dragged him toward the door.

"You know I would like to say it's been a pleasure but it really hasn't Ed. I mean you were kind of an asshole." I grunted out as I lifted the belt up and shut the door on it so that Ed was dangling from the door in a seated position.

"You couldn't even show your boy how to punch. A good punch is like this." I threw a punch and despite my small and malnourished body I pivoted my hips and lashed out with my right fist straight into Ed's ribs and heard a soft crack.

"The energy comes from the hips you see, but that's okay. You're just a dumb no good son of a bitch that didn't have the brains to go to college nor the athletic ability to get that scholarship you were begging for." I smiled as I watched Ed slowly succumb to the lack of oxygen.

"You couldn't have possibly thought you would have lived longer than I needed you. Admittedly I was going to kill you after I got out of high school but you've outlived your usefulness the moment you stepped into her room with that look on your face." I growled out as I kicked his chest.

"Stupid fucking trash." I whispered as his eyes finally closed and he stopped moving.

I waited for another two minutes before opening the door and letting him fall to the ground. I quickly wrapped the belt around my hand and pulled the useless pile of meat along the floor. It was a good thing he still had his shirt on or it would have been impossible. I pulled him into the hallway and shut Sophia's door.

"Isaac?" I heard my mother whisper in terror.

"I had to. He was going after Sophia." I whispered and watched as she scrambled toward the phone and began calling 911.

"Look at all the trouble you're causing Ed." I said as I looked down at his body one last time.

*****Two Days Later*****

The door opened and a man dressed in a suit with the swagger of someone important walked into the room and sat down across from my lawyer and I. He took a sip from his coffee and finally placed a folder on the desk.

"Ms. Beacher." The man nodded respectfully and the lawyer next to me nodded in acknowledgement.

"Detective." Ms. Beacher said shortly.

"Alright. Before we begin do you need anything else in your…present state?" The detective asked as he began gesturing to my treated wounds and bruises that had been taken care of in the hospital.

"I'm fine Detective. The pain killers help to dull the pain." I said as the Detective nodded, cleared his throat, and then placed a recorder on the table and pushed play.

"This is Detective Christian Camton following up on case number. 356421. The interviewee is the victim's son, Isaac Peletier." The Detective paused as the young boy of ten raised his hand.

"Yes Isaac?" Detective Camton asked.

"Please sir. I'd prefer Isaac Crane. After my mother's maiden name." I explained before calmly lowering my hand back onto the cold metal table.

"Ah. Why would you like to go under your mother's maiden name?" Detective Camton asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"I prefer it sir." I said simply.

"Let's keep the questions to the case Detective." Ms. Beacher insisted.

"Well, you understand why we've brought you in." Detective Camton asked as he took out a note pad.

"Yes. I've been brought in on suspicion of killing my father Ed Peletier." I said calmly and I could almost feel my lawyer stiffen as if to catch me in case I slipped up and incriminated myself.

"Correct. All the forensics put the murder weapon in your hand, place you at the scene and we have your mother on record as having found you dragging the body out of your sister's room." Detective Camton read off his note pad before looking up at me.

"It seems you have all the pieces Detective Camton." I said as I drummed my fingers against the table slowly.

"Yes. Without a doubt we can link you to the murder. Unless you would like to plead not guilty?" The detective asked looking toward Ms. Beacher.

"Against my advice and better judgement, my client…has expressed…a desire to plead guilty." Ms. Beacher said through clenched teeth.

"Really? Usually I don't ask this but why?" Detective Camton looked startled at the news and looked toward me.

"We live in a civilized society. Actions have consequences. I broke Ed Peletier's leg with a Fire Iron and then broke his spine so he couldn't move his body. Then I wrapped his belt around his neck and suffocated him till he died." I explained in order.

"Where did the broken ribs come from?" Detecive Camton asked.

"I may have kicked him a few times." I admitted with a grin.

"I see…" Detective Camton trailed off as he looked down at his notepad and scribbled something in it.

"Detective, may I ask a question?" I asked as the Detective looked up at me.

"Wouldn't you have done the same? If it had been you getting beaten half to death and then having your father walk into your sister's room afterward. You've seen his body. He had his pants off for a reason." I alluded and I saw his face tighten slightly.

"I would have called 911 and let the proper authorities handle it." The detective said robotically.

"In the time it would have taken for the police to arrive he would have raped her. She's only four. I protected my family." I said grimly and I felt my fist tighten and watched as the Detective struggled with what he wanted to say and what his job told him to say.

"In light of the circumstances that were uncovered during our investigations we are offering a deal which you can still choose to accept." Detective Camton stated.

"What's the deal?" Ms. Beacher asked curiously.

"In return for a full written confession and a guilty plea we offer this, eight years in a juvenile detention center with mandatory counselling sessions one day every week. If everything goes well and perhaps on good behavior you will be released when you turn eighteen. If you retract your statement or your confession, all deals will be thrown off the table." Detective Camton finished.

"I want it in writing. Then we will give you everything you need." Ms. Beacher said.

"Fair enough." Detective Camton agreed and handed us the folder he had brought in.

*****Eight Years Later*****

I splashed cold water on my face before looking at the mirror. I had changed in the last eight years. The baby fat was replaced with lean cheeks and sharp features. My hair was cut tightly against my scalp in a flat top and I had a few nicks and scars along my face. My eyes though, my eyes stayed the same. I had grown to an average height and was very strong for my size however it was my stamina that was one of the key aspects of my physique. I could run anyone into the ground given enough time.

"You worried man?" Deacon asked from his corner of the cell.

"No. Not really. The world doesn't change simply because you take the bars off the doors." I said absentmindedly as I turned toward my bunk and began filling my bag with drawings I had made over the years.

"Same old Isaac. Always the philosopher." Deacon smiled and extended his hand toward me.

"Deacon, always the man with big dreams." I joked as I shook his hand.

"Hey! Those dreams are what's going to pay for a house. I'll even be so gracious to let you crash on the couch like the bum you are." Deacon grinned.

"Thanks for the offer." I said simply and we stood like that for a while.

"This place is going to feel different without you buddy." Deacon said sadly as he pulled his hand to his side.

"Yeah, well, it'll probably give the guys more incentive to stay out of trouble. You know how to find me once you're sprung." I said as I turned to face the door.

"Yeah." Deacon said as he sat down.

Suddenly there was a knocking on the door and a guard opened a tiny metal slot.

"Isaac, it's time." The familiar voice of Steve Flonder called out.

"Yes sir." I said respectfully as I put my hands through the slot and felt the feeling of cold steel against my wrists.

I took a step back and the door swung open.

"Let's go Mr. Crane." Steve said with his usual smile.

Without a word I nodded before picking up my ruck and stepped out of my cell. The walls that had held me for eight years were a distant memory and I had no desire to be held there for any longer than I had to. As we walked down the hall I saw boys ranging from thirteen to seventeen looking through the tiny shatter proof windows in their doors watching me go.

"It's sad to see you leave." Steve said.

"Thank you officer Flonder. I hope the boys will remain reasonably calm after I leave." I said politely.

"One can only hope." Steve chuckled as we finally arrived at the out processing center.

I went through the usual regulations and answered every question. At the end of it I was issued a plain white shirt, jeans which fit like a glove but at least I could wear it and a pair of cheap shoes. The last thing I was handed was a wad of ones and five dollar bills. A hundred dollars in total, all that I had saved before I killed Ed.

With a simple nod Steve opened the double doors that led to the exit for the Juvenile center. With purpose I followed him out and walked the path that I had always seen but never walked myself. Each crunch of the gravel felt so liberating and finally I reached the metal doors, the only things barring me from freedom. Steve unlocked the doors and pushed them open to reveal a parking lot.

"There it is Isaac." Steve stepped to the side and I cautiously stepped outside and onto the side walk, it was at this moment the radio on Steve's shoulder beeped.

"There's a fight in cell 191! All officers to cell block C! NOW!" The last part was screamed out.

"So much for keeping calm after you leave." Steve shrugged before closing the doors and locking it.

"Yeah…I guess so." I shook my head and turned to the parking lot. The only cars were the employees.

"Guess I should have known better than to expect anyone." I whispered to myself as I finish scanning the lot.

I looked at my former home, Rockdale Juvenile Corrections, for the last time before turning away. Without any fanfare I began walking. The generic shoes on my feet were a little tight but I could deal with it. I've dealt with a lot worse. I went deep into that hollow space in my head. The place where nothing matter, where subjects, memories, and feelings floated through my mind like leaves on a river. It was my special place when Ed was beating me. Suddenly I stopped and was standing in front of a fast food place somewhere in the city. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and I felt hunger rumble through my belly. I touched the wad of money in my pocket and then walked in.

The moment I stepped through the door the smell of pizza and burgers hit me in the face and the assault was accompanied by the latest song of whatever female pop star was in at the time. Teenagers from fourteen to eighteen were scattered along the Diner. Their loud voices and laughs were completely different from the hushed tones, and stifled chuckles of Rockdale's meal hall. This must have been where the kids hung out after school or…

I looked at the digital clock and realized that it was Friday. Date night. Before I could walk out the door however, a waitress approached me. She was a pretty thing. Brown hair, fresh make up, a smart looking outfit and clearly new as she stumbled slightly on a hidden obstacle. She smiled shyly as she recovered before standing straight up. I looked at her chest and saw her name was written neatly on a cheap plastic name tag.

"You can take a seat at any empty table. We'll be with you as soon as we can." She said politely.

"Thank you Heather." I said automatically and found a small table that was partially isolated and didn't seem to have many people occupying it.

Within a few moments Heather once more appeared at my side and handed me a menu.

"Sorry about the wait." Heather said as she smiled brightly.

"It's not a problem. Thank you." I quickly scanned the front of the menu and pointed to the bowl of hot chili.

"Chili man?" Heather asked as she wrote the order down in her little notebook.

"Whenever I get the chance." I smiled at her and she nodded happily before going toward the kitchen.

By now I began noticing a few of the teenagers looking at me. They whispered and pointed none too subtly at my ruck sack. I had forgotten that stenciled on the side was the word Rockdale J.D. Too late to hide it now so I just sat quietly for a few minutes before Heather came back with my chili.

"Here you go." Heather proclaimed as she placed the steaming bowl of chili in front of me.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I totally forgot to ask if you wanted a drink." Heather exclaimed as her cheeks slightly became flushed in embarrassment.

"Water please." I asked and she nodded before quickly hurrying to get a cup of water for me.

I was barely into a spoonful into my chili when I noticed a shadow loom over me. I paused and looked up to see Hitler's wet dream looming down at me.

Six foot even, 240 pounds of pure muscle, and blonde hair and blue eyes. Could be trouble.

"Yes?" I asked as I looked back at my chili and took another spoonful before blowing on it.

"You from Rockdale Juvenile Detention Center?" The teen asked with a slight edge in his voice.

"Yeah. Just got released this morning." I answered as if we were talking about the weather.

"You're done. Pay and get the hell out of here." He grounded out.

"I'm still eating." I said as I ate the spoonful of chili.

With a causally flick of his wrist he tipped the bowl over, spilling the chili all over the table.

"REX!" The indignant tone of Heather screamed out as she approached with my glass of water.

"What do you think you're doing?!" She continued.

"Nothing. Just telling, the nobody, to get the hell out. Nobody wants him here." The newly named Rex said calmly.

"That was my chili." I said as I clenched the spoon harder.

"Oh and is this your water?" Rex asked as he snatched it from Heather's hand and held it threateningly over my head.

"Don't." I warned as he smirked.

Without a care he dumped the water over my head and I counted the ice cubes that bounced off my head. After the cup was empty Rex set it down with a boisterous thump and looked down with a grin that nearly screamed "What are you going to do?" With a sigh I grabbed my ruck and made to get up only to have Rex roughly shove me back down.

"Rex! That's enough!" Heather screamed.

"Listen to her Rex." I said calmly before attempting to stand back up before feeling Rex clamp a hand on my shoulder.

"What are you going to do about it?" Rex asked before trying to shove me.

I simply turned to the side and without my expected resistance Rex simply fell forward and onto the chili covered table. The resulting crash nearly broke the table into splinters and sent the lone chair flying toward the back wall. The place was deadly quiet, whether that was before Rex fell onto the table or not I had no idea. It didn't matter as Rex stood up and faced me with chili over his shirt. His face was flushed and I see the fury in his eyes.

"Rex…stop. Stop it right now." Heather warned as she raised a hand.

With a roar Rex threw a punch but I had been in brawls before. I pushed Heather to the side as I dodged a stray punch from Rex. I simply stepped backward each time Rex threw his punches. He was angry and his fighting showed it. Anyone in our way quickly removed themselves and I was glad I didn't have anyone to trip over. After what must of have been his fiftieth punch he paused panting.

"It's a lot harder than you would think huh?" I asked as I tucked my hands in my pockets.

"Fuck…you." He said through gasps.

"Alright. Well I'm bored." I said as I moved past him and dodge his weak attempt to grab me.

I pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to Heather as I grabbed my ruck that sat sadly on its side when Rex charged at me. She numbly accepted it and I turned to see two cops, one a nervous stick of a rookie and the other a bloated jaded cop.

"Step away from the girl now and drop your bag!" The jaded cop yelled as his hand unsnapped the band on his holster.

"I did nothing wrong officer." I said calmly as I did as I was instructed.

"Raise your hands!" The fat cop commanded and once more I did as he asked.

Suddenly the familiar sound of a gunshot tore through the scene and I felt pain blossom from my arm. I looked numbly toward the left side of my body and saw a thin bead of blood begin to trail down. I turned to the cops who were completely as stunned as I was. I looked up and saw Rex holding the newly stolen police pistol. I heard a pained whimper and I turned around shocked to see Heather looking shocked at a red circle on her chest which bloomed as she fell to the ground. I was too busy looking at Heather to watch as Rex was tackled by the heavy set police officer. I felt the cold steel on wrist before I knew what was happening.

How did it come to this?

I looked at Rex who sat next to me in the back of a squad car. He seemed intent on looking at his hands and I found myself scoffing.

What a pussy.

I looked back at the fast food joint, Fat Eddy's I read on a sign, and looked away as a pair of EMT's ran into the building. Nobody else was around as the cops had cleared the scene.

"She's dead you know." I told to the back of their skulls as they stopped in front of the two officers in Fat Eddy's.

"Shut up." Rex mumbled.

"Wasn't talking to you." I retorted as suddenly the EMT's and the cops looked toward where the body presumably lied.

I watched as the rookie mouthed something before pulling his gun.

Interesting

I watched with my head cocked to the side as the pale face of Heather appeared from below my eye line. She stood shakenly to her feet and looked dumbly at the officers. The two officers raised their pistols and both hesitated as Heather took a shaky step toward them, and then another as she raised her hands toward them. Both officers together fired their pistols and Heather rocked and shook with each bullet but nothing phased her as she grabbed the fat officer and bit his nose off. The EMT's and the rookie both bolted out the door shortly after. None of them had the decency to open the door to the cop car for me.

"What's happening?" Rex asked as he finally noticed the absence of the cops.

"Shut up and hold still." I ordered as I placed my back against his shoulder and kicked the window as strong as I could and after the third kick the shattered proof glass popped out.

I crawled out of the window as well as I could and fell onto the pavement with a thud. I got to my feet fairly quickly and found an amusing sight as Rex tried to replicate my feat only to be stuck in the car because of his broad shoulders. I scoffed as I walked toward the Fat Eddy's doorway.

"Hey! Where are you going!?" Rex yelled out.

"I don't have the keys, the other police officer ran away when Heather attacked the fat one." I said as I put a shoulder against the door once more annoyed that my hands were cuffed behind my back.

"Well, you better unlock my cuffs too when you come back out." Rex yelled out.

I'll kill you before that happens.

I pushed the door open and I heard something snap and a symphony of sounds that would make anime porn developers blush. I cautiously looked down the aisle and saw Heather elbows deep into the fat policeman's stomach. The keys jingled next to him on the floor with each tug from Heather. I stepped closer and watched as Heather lifted the fat cop's stomach and bit deeply into the pink flesh. Instead of feeling the usual feelings, panic, fear, or nausea I was fascinated.

"Heather." I called out and watched as she turned her bloody face toward me.

She completely ignored the cop as she stood up revealing her engorged stomach which had nearly tripled in sized from her snack. With a snarl she walked in that shambling fashion I had seen before. Without warning I turned to my side, raised my knee and lashed out with my foot. I landed a hard blow against her chest and watched as she flew back and fell into the gore of the police officers stomach. That blow had taken down men comparable to Rex in Juvie. Still I watched impressed as she stood up as if nothing had happened. She came closer and I aimed higher and kicked her in the head. Without any resistance Heather's head was slammed onto the edge of a table before slumping to the ground. I waited for a second but the unending energy was gone from her body as blood leaked slowly from her skull.

"That's a clue." I muttered and paused as I heard the familiar clinking sound of keys hitting the floor.

I looked away from Heather to see the fat police officer wave his arm in futility as he tried to reach for me. The man's eyes were dead and he snarled in a similar fashion as Heather. With a crack I watched as the officer broke his own spine with his energetic movement and tried crawling toward me. I walked to the officer and stomped heavily onto the back of the man's skull. Immediately the officer stopped moving.

So that's what makes you tick. Alright.

I leaned down and felt for the keys with my hands and after a few seconds I found it. With a few deft movements I managed to unlock my handcuffs and sighed happily. I grabbed the cop's pistol and any magazines on his belt which had remained with his lower body.

Time to bounce before the scene becomes worse. What do I know? Hits to the skull kill these things. What I don't know. How did Heather become a monster without being bitten and is everyone else infected?

I looked at the pair on the ground before pocketing the handcuff keys and picking up my ruck sack which laid where it had fallen once more after the cops arrested me. I grabbed the police officer's belt and quickly fastened it around my waist. It was a dozen sizes too big for me but it was better than nothing. I quickly holstered the pistol and reached down the officer's right leg. I smiled as my assumption was correct as I lifted up the officer's pants leg and unfastened a hidden .32 from his ankle. I smiled at the dead officer.

"I never would have expected you to be this prepared." I said as I stood up and walked out of Fat Eddy's.

"Hey! Get me out of here!" Rex yelled at me.

"Yeah sure. Come to the window and stick your hands out." I ordered as Rex turned around and placed his hands outside the window.

I pulled out the multitool that had been on the cop's belt and flicked open the blade.

"Let me out man! Hurry up before more cops come!" Rex said eagerly.

"Okay." I looked up and down the streets and saw no one.

I pushed Rex's head down and slid the sharp blade along his throat. I watched as Rex wiggled around but because he reflexively tried to raise his hands to his throat he only pulled himself against the car door as he bled out. Finally he went slack. I wiped the blade on his shoulder and returned the mutitool on my gun belt. I waited for thirty minutes before I saw it. The first twitch. Rex looked up and I knew.

So it's not just Heather.

I felt tempted to shoot Rex in the back of the head but if this was real I would need every shot. The world was on the precipice of change and I needed to prepare. I had turned the ruck inside out and replaced all my belongings back into it including the gun belt although I kept the .32 on my ankle. I was going to the nearest hardware store. A hammer never ran out of bullets. Without warning the street lights went out and then I heard it. Screams. Then gun fire. Then explosions. This city was in its death throes and I was stuck in the middle of it.

Goodbye Atlanta.

*****Three Weeks Ago*****

"Hey Isaac." Deacon called from his spot in our cell where an aluminum tray held a chess set.

"What?" I asked as I flipped another page of my book.

"Why do you read stuff like that?" Deacon asked as he looked up from his game.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Survival guides and stuff like that. I mean, it's not like you'll need it." Deacon scoffed and moved another pawn off the board.

"When I get out of here I'm going to move out of the city. I can't stand it anymore. The walls. The lights and sounds. I want to be by myself." I answered honestly and Deacon let out a surprised sound.

"What?" I asked as I looked over the pages of my book and at Deacon.

"It's just. I've never heard you speak so passionately about something before." Deacon said simply.

"Well, it's been eight years. Bound to happen sooner or later." I said with a chuckle as I closed the book and set it down, the cover of it read how to suture a wound.

*****Present Day******

In my haste I had forgotten the graze on my left arm. I shakenly tied off the surgeon knot and cut the thread. The wound wasn't particularly deep but it was long and bled a lot. I quickly bagged up what I used to sew myself up and picked up the hammer from the counter. The camping light was bright and it lit up my corner of the store adequately. I had found rope, some makeshift medical supplies, and a reliable weapon with a hammer and a crowbar which I had tucked into a tool belt I had found. It had multiple pockets and the pistol was tucked into one of the open pouches for ease of access. The looting hadn't been as bad on the outskirts of Atlanta and I was lucky to find a well-stocked hardware store. I didn't want to push my luck so I quickly slipped out of the broken store door and with my camp light quickly made my way out of the city as it became a writhing mass of horror and gore.

****A Month Later*****

"That vase…that's something special. 'fess up. You steal it from your Grandma Jean's house? Heh. I hope you left her that spoon collection. Hehehe." The soft chuckle was interrupted by a series of coughs that racked the patient's body.

"Shane? Shane you in the john?" The patient noticed the now dead and dried out flowers at his bed side table and reached out and felt the dry petals crackle under his weak touch.

After thinking for a second he looked at the clock and noticed the hour hand was stuck at two, the minute hand was stuck at seventeen and the second hand was at thirty-two. Fear finally struck his body and he feebly peeled off the various tubes from his body. With a grunt of effort he pulled himself up and grabbed weakly at the I.V stand before pulling himself up only to have his legs collapse from beneath him.

"Nurse! Help! Nurse! Help!" He waited for a few minutes until he was sure help wasn't coming before summoned the strength to stand and hobble to the bathroom door.

Quickly he pushed it open and paused. The man staring back at him was rough. A patchy beard was growing and the gaunt look of someone who had not seen a meal in days or weeks stared back at him. He quickly noticed his midsection was wrapped tightly with gauze that needed a quick change if the smell was any indication. He looked at the sink and suddenly a thirst he had never known before filled him. He clawed at the faucet handle grateful that water flowed quickly out of the spigot. He reached out to the water and greedily drank handfuls before the flow abruptly stopped. Slightly disappointed he turned the handle out of reflex more than anything and exited the bathroom. With his thirst satisfied the urge to investigate took over and he gingerly walked to the door getting more used to walking with each step. Cautiously he pulled the door open and saw a gurney blocking the way. With a weak push he made enough room to walk into the hallway only to discover nothing.

In all the time he was in the hospital there was never a quiet moment. There was always a nurse or two in the hallway, monitors beeping, patients dying, a cry of pain, something but there was only nothing. He noticed that most of the lights still worked although a few flickered or were destroyed. Papers were strewn all over the place. As quickly as he could, he shambled down the hall, his bare feet slapped softly on the linoleum floor. He reached a dark nurses station in a time that seemed to span forever.

With some hesitation he grabbed the phone and held it up to his ear only to grimace as he heard nothing. He rumbled through the counter top to find something of use and found a pack of matches. With great care he held onto the matches and walked down the darkened hallway. When he reached the end he saw a sign that said South Wing Recovery Ward. Cautiously and wary of the various pieces of debris he walked toward the double doors that were closed and peered through the small windows.

Almost immediately he froze as he saw a woman's body on the ground. From the neck down there was nothing but stripped bone and dried blood. The body mesmerized him as he wondered what the hell could do that to a human being. After a few minutes of contemplation he turned away from the scene. He had to get out of here. He looked toward the end of the other hall and began walking toward it. The hallway seemed to have been a warzone as bullet casing, blood, and wasted medical products littered the ground. His blood froze over as he approached the chained doors. The message was clear, Don't Open. Dead Inside. Rick watched as the door opened slightly and the chain strained to keep it closed. A grey hand reached from the darkness and yanked harder on the doors. Suddenly the hand was accompanied by more. All along the edges hands gripped the wooden doors and shook it violently.

Out of instinct he found himself shambling toward the exit stairway. As he closed the door behind him Rick found himself in darkness. Nervously his fingers fumbled with the matchbook and finally was able to light a match to reveal nothing. The images in his mind vanished and he began to make his way down the stairs. It took him two matches to go down two flights of stairs but he made it to the rear entrance to the hospital only to pause at what he saw.

Rick scanned this new world and saw rows and rows of dead bodies. Each one in various stages of decomposition and damaged. The scene made him sick to his stomach as he stumbled past the bodies. After exiting the parking lot he saw a hill and began to climb. To his surprise there was a military helicopter with missing rotator blades. The camp the helicopter was in was surprisingly abandoned with damaged tents and empty crates strewn about. Without warning he felt something heavy land on his shoulder and he saw a sharp edge facing toward his neck.

"Don't move." A male teen's voice stated.

"I-I don't know what you want…but, but I don't have anything." Rick said as calmly as he could.

"Are you bit?" The teen asked.

"Bit?! Look kid, I'm an officer. A deputy." Rick explained only for the teen to chuckle.

"No. You're just another man. Now. Are. You. Bit?" The teen asked and this time Rick felt the blade dig softly into his skin but not puncture it.

"I-" Rick stopped as he felt a press harder against his skin.

"Answer the question or I open your vein." The teen said and this time his tone held a deadly serious tone.

"No. I…I was shot. I think. I've been asleep this whole time. I don't even know what's happening." Rick said and was relieved when the blade left his neck.

"GSW huh? Let me see." The teen said and Rick turned around to see something similar to a stupid show he had seen in passing.

A teenager dressed in combat fatigues and a bullet proof vest with a sword of all things slung over his back was standing in front of him. His face was covered with a camo bandana. He was well armed with a tool belt filled with numerous items. The one that caught Rick's eye was a 9mm pistol. The teen had pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some gauze before looking at him expectantly.

"Where is it?" The teen asked annoyed.

With some pain Rick untied his medical gown and pulled it down to reveal an old piece of gauze caked in dry blood. The smell was noticeable to him and to the teen who worked on pull it off.

"This is going to hurt." The teen warned before ripping the gauze off in one swift pull.

"GAH! Ah! Oh shit! Shit! FUCK! Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Rick said as he fell to one knee and held his side in agony.

"Stop being a baby." The teen said as he moved Rick's hand away from the wound and quickly poured the hydrogen over the wound.

Rick could barely feel it as his vision blurred and blacked out.

*****Three Hours Later*****

Rick woke up in the compartment of the helicopter. The doors were pulled shut and he saw opposite of him the mysterious teen that had found him.

"You're awake." The teen said as he passed a tin with the label spam toward Rick.

"What happened?" Rick groaned as pulled the tin closer and inspected the contents of the can.

"You passed out. Which was actually favorable. I had to cut out some of the dead flesh and sew you up. You took it like a champ." The teen smiled and looked down at the knife in his hands.

I took in the teen's face and was oddly intimidated. Instead of the acne and fat cheeks that seemed to be becoming the norm his face seemed to be etched out of stone. A few scars dotted his face but it only added onto his character. His hair was in a style that seemed to stem from a flat top and his skin was tanned from hours in the sun. His eyes though held a cool concentration as he cleaned his knife.

"I mean what happened to the world?" I asked as I realized I was dressed in combat fatigues as well.

"The rules changed. I know it'll seem strange to you but now when people die, they don't stay dead." The teen said and I found myself chuckling before stopping at the cold stare he sent my way.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" I asked as the gears in my mind seemed to grind to a stop.

"It's some sort of virus. If you get bitten, assuming you don't get eaten and you find a place to hide and stop the bleeding, you'll get a fever. It'll burn you from the inside out within a few hours. You'll suffer hallucinations, dehydration and ultimately death. Then after a time period from a few minutes to a few hours after death, depending on the bite location, you will come back. Except you won't be you. At that point you'll go after other people and try to eat them. Repeating the cycle. I've also found that regular people, people that haven't been bitten. If they die then they come back too." The teen explained as he sheathed his knife.

"This has to be a joke. This is a joke right?" I asked and the teen simple shook his head.

"I've seen it countless times Rick. You saw those bodies out there. This operating base here." The teen urged and I found myself slowly believing.

"How do you know my name?" I asked and the teen looked bemused and pointed to my wrist, on it was a medical band with my name, blood type, and date of admission.

"Oh. Well, what's your name?" I asked.

"Isaac. Isaac Crane." Isaac held out his hand and I shook it.

"Thank you for your help Isaac. As soon as the sunrise hits I'll be out of your hair. I need to find my family." I said and Isaac nodded his head.

"A worthy goal. Drink your stew then. Killed it a few days ago." Isaac said with an air of pride.

"Uh…maybe tomorrow." I said as politely as I could.

"You'll need it Rick. Drink." Isaac said with the same tone as before.

With little choice I lifted the tin and drank its contents. Although it was no five star meal it wasn't bad. After a few mouthful's it was gone and my body seemed to miss it already. I looked from the empty tin to Isaac who shook his head.

"You won't be able to keep it down if you drink more." He said as he pulled out another blade and clicked his tongue as he rubbed a finger over a chipped edge.

"How do you kill them? If the whole world is like that hospital, how do you put them down?" I asked and Isaac tossed the blade to the side in disgust.

"Massive head trauma. Break the skull and make sure you destroy the brain. Use anything you can find. Guns, knives, bats, whatever it takes. Whatever you think they are, they're not anymore. No hesitation. You'll get yourself killed before you can find your family." Isaac explained and I nodded.

"Got any spare weapons lying around?" I asked and Isaac pointed to a wooden bat that leaned against the side of the helicopter.

"Take it." Isaac said and I reached out and took the bat in hand.

The weight was comforting and I found myself nervous at the thoughts of actually using it to Isaac's direction. I began to feel tired and I laid as comfortably as I could in the cramped compartment. I closed my eyes and listened as Isaac rhythmically check his knives and cleaned them. A few minutes in I finally fell asleep.

*****The Next Morning*****

I woke up to the sun shining in my face. The door was opened and a gently breeze was blowing into the compartment and I blearily brought myself into a crouch and walked out of the helicopter with my hand over my eyes to block against the sunlight. As my eyes adjusted I found a man staring at me. He wore an identical hospital gown that I was wearing yesterday but that's where it ended. Half his face was gone as if something had chewed on it and his skin was sickly grey.

"Isaac?!" I yelled out as I stumbled backward and into the compartment.

I fell heavily on my back and got the wind knocked out of me. The sun blinded me and I barely raised my hands as I caught the thing by its shoulders. Its breath stuck of rotten meat and I screamed more in fear than anything as its broken teeth tried to bite me. I propped it up with my left elbow as I reached for the bat handle with my right hand. I felt my arms begin to give out as it growled at me. Miraculously I felt the handle and hit the things face with the pommel of the bat knocking it off me and onto the asphalt. I took a few heavy breaths as I sat up and saw it trying to do the same. I quickly stood up and swung the bat and heard an audible crack as the things head broke open and it limply fell to its side.

"Oh good. You got one." I heard Isaac say from my right.

"Where were you?!" I asked as I tried to get my breath back.

"Watching you. See the collar on its neck?" Isaac pointed and I saw a collar with a rope leading away from the dead person to Isaac's hand.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"You weren't in danger. I had to see if you could handle yourself. And you did. Good job." Isaac congratulated me as he approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder which I shrugged off angrily.

"That was dangerous. I could have died!" I said angrily.

"It had to be done." Isaac said without any sympathy as he jumped into the helicopter and tossed me a light bag with some items in it.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The chances of you making it to where you are going is slim to none. You were half dead when I found you and can barely handle one walker. You won't survive more than a few." Isaac said as he jumped out of the helicopter with a similar bag over his shoulder.

"Then why give me this?" I asked and Isaac placed a hand on the metal body of the helicopter.

"You'll have to pull your weight too. I'm coming with you. I found all I could here. I have no other clear destination in mind and you need someone to watch your back." Isaac explained as he turned toward me.

"I-Thank you." I managed to say.

"Now where does your family live?" Isaac asked.

*****Half a Day Later*****

We finally stopped in front of a quaint house that I assume was Grimes place. I quickly placed a hand on Rick's shoulder and barely dodge a flying fist even though it wouldn't have hurt me any way.

"What the hell are you doing?! My family's in there!" Rick almost swung again before I flicked him between the eyes.

"Shut the fuck up. We don't know who could be in there or what. Now do I have your attention?" I watched as Rick nodded.

"Good. Listen, I know you might not want to hear this but your family...might be one of the walkers. I'll take care of them if they are, a man shouldn't have to put down his family. I'll let you know if it's clear." I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and walked to the door.

A man shouldn't have to put down his family.

I was surprised to find the door unlocked and I quickly pushed it open. I waited for any sign of movement and pounded on the wall three times. After a minute nothing moved and I was convinced there were no walkers inside.

"Rick. Come on." I called out and Rick moved past me and began to frantically search for any clues for where his family had gone.

I quietly opened each cabinet in search of any possible canned food. My search was rewarded with a can of tuna. I quickly pocketed it and found Rick was gone. I sighed before walking outside. I paused as I saw a black kid approach Rick, who sat quietly on his lawn. Without giving my position away I snuck up behind the kid and yanked the shovel out of his hands which prompted a high pitch squeak as he jumped away. The kid looked at me scared and a loud gunshot echoed down the street where a black was running up to us with a .32 raised at us.

"Drop it!" The man yelled as he stopped in front of us.

"Your kid was about to hit my friend over here." I said defensively.

"Duane! I told you not to go out without me!" The man whispered angrily before looking back at me.

"Let him go. We'll go our separate ways and forget this happened." The man offered as he lowered his pistol.

"I didn't plan on doing anything to him. Take your shovel kid." I said and handed Duane his shovel which he took back gingerly.

"Thank you. Duane. Come here." The man ordered and his son obediently ran over to his father.

"Rick come on. We got to find shelter before the night comes. That gunshot will attract any walker in a five mile radius." I said as I looked at the dying sun.

"We have a shelter a few houses down. The gunshot was my fault." The man said and my respect for him rose.

"Sure. What's your name?" I asked.

"Morgan. Now come one." Morgan said with a shrug of his shoulder and walked with his son Duane ahead of us.

"Come on Rick. Maybe he can answer some questions and we can get a lead on where your family went." I said and Rick nodded before standing up and following me.

*****Later On that Night*****

"No one knows where it came from. First we heard a few instances on the news about people biting people, a riot here and there but, before we knew what had happened the whole system shut down. Hospitals were overrun first, then the firefighters, and police, eventually the military tried to step in but by then it was too late between the walkers and the Great Panic they were shredded." Morgan's face got more sullen as the memories of the last few weeks went through his head.

"We managed to get here but, my wife got sick and we got stuck here. We were trying to get to Atlanta. The last we heard on the radio was that there was a call for a regroup at Atlanta and that they would take care of any survivors who made it there." Morgan finished and began to pour some soup into a few plastic bowls.

"Atlanta regrouped for a while from what I heard. They managed to contain the dead. I got out at the start of the epidemic and I've stayed out." I put in my two cents and gratefully ate some soup.

"Then that's where we're going. But first we'll hit the police station. They have an armory there and there's a chance we'll snag more weapons and some supplies. Maybe a car or two." Rick added.

"Sounds like a plan. Any firearm is more than welcomed in times like these." I added and Morgan nodded.

"Where'd you get the wicked sword? It looks like something out of my comic books." Duane asked excitedly.

"This? I found a broken helicopter and managed to pop off one of its rotator blades with a welding torch. I grinded that son of a bitch for two weeks before getting a cutting edge. It's the best weapon I've ever made." I said proudly.

"You made it?" Duane asked.

"Creativity can mean the difference between life and death now. Anything and everything is a weapon. You'd do well to remember it." I stated as I downed the rest of my soup.

"Well, I guess we should get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day." Morgan suggested.

"I'll take first watch." Rick volunteered and none of us argued with him as we all went to our little corner of the house and bunked down for the night.

*****The Next Day*****

I gasped for air as I pulled my head out of the stream of hot water and wiped the remaining droplets away from my eyes. I had waited for the others to finish giving the excuse of checking the rest of the station for supplies and keeping an eye out for walkers. When they had finished and Rick, Duane, and Morgan went to the armory, I quickly took off my armor and shoved myself under a steady stream of water falling from the shower head. After shampooing and washing off my body I reluctantly turned the shower off and began toweling off. For the first time in what had seemed like an eternity I felt good. I felt human. I quickly redressed and felt comforted by the familiar weight of my tool belt and my rotor sword. I was fitting my boots on when Rick showed up in the doorway with a bag of weapons over his shoulder and a cop uniform accompanied with a hat.

"Good haul?" I asked as I finished knotting my laces.

"Could be better. Someone got to it before we did. Probably one of the other deputies or something. Come on. Morgan and Duane are waiting for us in the parking lot." Rick waved with his free hand and began walking down the hallway.

I quickly caught up with him as and followed him through the tiny police station. I didn't bother asking about his outfit as we opened the doors and saw Morgan and Duane waiting next to a jeep. Rick quickly approached them and looked over their gear before turning back toward Morgan.

"Conserve your ammo. It goes faster than you think. Especially during target practice." Rick stated but I could tell they had already been through this.

We all stared at each other awkwardly not sure how to say good bye.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. We'll leave in a couple of days. By then Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty." Morgan looked at a Jeep and then back at us.

Rick reached into his bag and pulled out an old radio and handed it over. "You have one battery. I'll turn mine on every few minutes at dawn if you get up there that's how you'll find me."

"You think ahead." Morgan chuckled and grabbed the radio before handing it to Duane.

"Can't afford not to." Rick grinned a bit before shaking hands with Morgan.

"The only advice I can give you now is that one or two of them might not be much but when they're in a pack riled up and hungry…watch your ass." Morgan stated and I figured it was my turn to say good bye.

"Good luck Morgan. Keep your son safe." We shook hands and nodded at each other but the silence was broken by a soft shuffling noise and as we turned we saw a walker coming toward us dressed in a ripped and bloody police uniform that looked similar to the one Rick had on.

"Leon Bassest-I didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb but-I can't leave him like this." Rick shook his head to rid himself of any doubts as he strode over to the chain link fence that held Leon back.

"They'll hear the shot." I called out.

"Let's not be here when they show up." Rick replied over his shoulder as he raised his pistol and fired.

We watched as the walker formally known as Leon Bassest stiffen then fall down like a doll with its strings cut off.

"Let's go." I said as I calmly walked to the police car and the others followed suit to their respective vehicles.

Morgan pulled out of the parking lot first and honked twice as he drove back into town and Rick set off the sirens twice in return. I didn't look back. After all they would be dead. Maybe not today or tomorrow but the survivalist, the veteran, the killer in me knew they wouldn't make it. I didn't tell Rick because I knew he wouldn't; he couldn't think that way. As we continued down an empty road going out of town Rick turned on the radio and began trying to communicate with anyone who might have a working radio.

"Wake me up when there's something to do." I gently leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes.

"Hello can you hear my voice?" Rick called out.

*****10 Miles Outside of Atlanta*****

"Hello can you hear my voice?" A group of startled people stared at the radio that had been up till now filling the camp with nothing but white noise.

A young blonde, gathered her wits first and ran over to the radio. The blonde picked up the mic and depressed the trigger as she talked into it.

"Hey! Hello?!" She almost screamed into the mic.

"Can anyone hear my voice?" The male voice over the radio repeated.

"Yes, I can hear you. You're coming through, over." The blonde said barely keeping her voice below shouting level.

"Can anyone hear me? Please respond. Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85. If anybody reads please respond." The male voice said calmly.

Instantly a panic took over the camp and the blonde looked anxious as their fears grew.

"We're just outside the city!...Hello?! Hello?!" This time she screamed into the mic.

"Try hailing him again. Come on son you know best how to work this thing." Suggested an older man with a hunting rifle over his shoulder.

Suddenly an ax buried itself right next to the radio and a thirty year old man picked up the mic.

"Hello, hello. Is the person who called still on the air? This is Officer Shane Walsh broadcasting to person unknown. Please respond." After a few seconds he dropped the mic onto the tree stump the radio was on.

"He's gone." He said grimly.

"There are others. Not just us." A brunette this time stated.

"We knew there would be. It's why we left the C.B on." Shane said in a vindicated tone at which the brunette took offense.

"Lot of good it's been doing." She retorted as she continued. "I've been saying for a week we ought to be putting up signs on the highway warning people away from the city." She finished with a gesture.

"Folks have no idea what their getting into." The blonde spoke softly.

"We haven't had time." Shane said as he stood up as the brunette fixed a hard glare on him.

"I think we need to make time." She said as Shane rubbed his chin.

"That's a luxury we can't afford. We are surviving here. We are day to day." Shane defended.

"Who are we supposed to send?" The older man asked.

The brunette thought for a moment before pointing to herself. "I'll go. Give me a vehicle."

"Nobody goes alone, everyone knows that." Shane replied with the ease that comes with saying something many times, finally the brunette sighed and backed down.

"Yes sir." She walked off and the group scattered once more to do their daily duties.

Shane quickly followed behind the brunette into her tent before confronting her once more.

"Listen, I'm not going to put you in danger. Okay? I'm not doing it for anything. Listening you feel like you need to slap me upside the head do it, I'm right here." Both looked at each other silently until Shane started talking again this time calmer.

"Look, you cannot just walk off like that. All halfcocked like you want to do it for my sake or your own. The boy has been through too much to lose his mother too. Okay?" Shane said as he took a step closer.

"Okay." The brunette whispered as they both looked down then back at each other.

The two chuckled as the tension left the room. They grabbed each other with familiarity and pressed their lips together. The moment seemed like it would grow into something else when a voice pierced the air.

"Mom?" A voice outside the tent asked tentively.

The two broke apart and Shane quickly opened the flap and stepped out.

"She's in there." Shane answered the boy and as he walked away the brunette leaned down eye leveled to her boy.

"I'm not going anywhere. Okay?" The boy smiled as he was reassured and hugged his mom.

*****Ten Miles Outside of Atlanta*****

Ricked grabbed a photo from the visor above the driver's seat and smiled at it. It was a picture of him, his wife Lori, and his son Carl in happier times. He quickly folded the photo up and placed it into the gun bag as he stepped out of the car.

"I can't believe you didn't check on the gas before we left." I said as I worked out the kinks in my back.

"You go into a coma for a little while and see what you remember after you wake up." Rick threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and held out the gas can toward me and I scoffed.

"You're the one who forgot the gas." I said as I looked down the highway trying to see any gas stations or anything that could help us.

"But I also got us the guns." Rick stated as he jingled the can once more.

"I saved your life. If it wasn't for me you would have been in septic shock by now from your wound." I retaliated.

"You sicked a walker on me." Rick said rebutted.

"You were never in any real danger." I dismissed.

"Fine. I'll carry the guns AND the gas can." Rick said irritably.

"Good. You'll need to build up some muscle any way. I think I see something five miles down the road. Come on. It's a long walk." I jibed at him before starting to walk.

The walk was pretty mundane and in no time we reached a farmhouse. As we came up the road we both watched, somewhat amazed as a lone horse grazed in its pen.

"You take care of the horse. I'll take the house. If we can't find gas here you'll need some form of transportation. You still haven't healed up enough for a walk to Atlanta." Rick accepted the explanation and sighed before he walked over to the pen and called out softly for the horse.

I turned and walked up the two steps of the porch, pistol ready in case the owners decided to try their luck. I looked through the window to see a classic case of murder suicide. Flies buzzed around the corpses in black masses. Without care I broke the window and slid my way over the window sill. Bodies will be bodies but you can never have enough food. I raided what food I could salvage from the kitchen and carelessly threw them into a potato sack I found. On my way out I picked up the shotgun and a half full box of shells. Happily I made my way to Rick who stood next to the horse.

"Nothing inside but a few cans of peaches and pancake mix. Although I did managed to pick up the gun and a half box of shells. Ready to head out?" I asked as I handed Rick the gun and the ammo which he quickly put into the bag before hopping on the horse.

"Yeah." Rick offered a hand but I declined with a shake of my head.

"I'll keep up just fine. It'll take a little longer to reach Atlanta but we should take our time. Atlanta isn't too far away. Besides I don't think this old girl can handle two people at the same time." I looked to the distance and saw the outskirts of Atlanta.

"Yeah…alright." Rick said hesitantly but he abided by what I said.

With nothing else left to say Rick urged the horse forward and it began to walk leisurely and I kept up pace. Within two hours we had transverse the country side and come onto a major highway leading into Atlanta. We both looked at the outbound lane and saw nothing but derelict cars which clogged up the lanes. Maybe it was just me but I could almost hear the screams and chaos from the scene and I shook my head to clear the images I had conjured in my head.

"Makes me glad I got out of here early." I said and Rick looked back at me.

"Was it bad?" Rick asked.

"It was the Great Panic. People fighting people. People fighting walkers. And the Military killing everyone they found." I recounted and Rick seemed hesitant to enter the City before nodding.

"My family could be at the C.D.C. You don't have to come with me." Rick looked down at me and I sighed.

"You'll need someone to watch your back. Besides, I might get some good loot out of the deal." I said with a grin.

"Well thanks." Rick said appreciatively as he tapped the horse's sides and the horse and I began walking into the City.

Well I hope you all enjoyed the beginning of this story. I'm feeling good about it.