Episode One: Priorities

Three months later…

Slowly but surely, spring had come around in Washington state. The bitter, early morning frost was a thing of the past, now replaced by a damp dew scattered across a bed of grass and dead leaves. Above, the trees were sprouting new ones, and the fresh greenery they brought was a nice change of scenery from the unpleasant mixture of crisp white snow and rotten brown foliage.

There was still a satisfying crunch of twigs and leaves beneath Rowan's feet as she marched through the forest with her older brother, Luke. Her once white sneakers were caked in the dirt, though fashion meant little to anyone anymore.

"Could you get any slower?" Luke called back, his muscular physique allowing him to stride with ease across the forest floor. "Or at least hurry up and grow so I don't have to always slow down for you."

Luke, the elder of the pair, was in his mid-twenties. His light brown eyes, although soft, had a calculative look and a sense of a wisdom beyond his years.

Rowan rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the nagging nature of her big brother, even if he was just saying it to provoke her to snap back. It worked, as it always did. At fifteen years old, she was a full ten years younger than her sibling and was constantly reminded of that fact. Her grey eyes were more youthful and seemed to twinkle with mischievous thoughts constantly.

"You didn't even give me time to wipe the sleep from my eyes before you were dragging me out here!" she yelled back, breaking into a short jog until she was closer to the older boy.

Despite their contrasting personalities, the fact Rowan and Luke were siblings was unmistakable. Their skin was lightly caramel from being of Middle-Eastern and Caucasian descent and both had thick black locks, with Rowan's much longer hair tied back in a ponytail and Luke's being short at the sides and longer on top, along with having layer of stubble across his strong jawline.

"I don't see why I have to be the one to help you get water at like, what, 6am?" she added as she shoved some branches out of her face, hitting them with the metal bucket she used to collect water.

"Hey, I'm gonna be heading out on a run soon," Luke reminded her. "You should be happy to spend some time with me before I have to go. You never know what could happen out there."

"Don't joke about that kinda stuff," she quickly warned him, pausing in her tracks before catching up again. Although serious, her voice was a childish whine.

"Why not?" Luke said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "You love jokes I thought?"

"You know why," Rowan replied with a low mumble.

Stopping for a second, she sighed, happy to have some chunks of dark hair hiding his rosy cheeks. She knew damn well she was one of the lucky ones in this world to have someone she cared about.

Luke stopped in his tracks too, turning back to see his sister standing there.

"Does it scare ya?" he asked teasingly as he approached her, seeing she was getting embarrassed. His tone quickly changed to one of sympathy. "You know I'm gonna be fine. I always am."

"That's why I'm worried." Rowan's energy jolted back up like a spark of electricity as she told off the older boy. Storming on ahead, she began ranting. It was obvious to Luke that it had been bottled inside for a short while. "It's always you risking your life out there. You're the one nearly dying every week. And you're the one who has to watch when someone does get hurt out there. Or worse…" She sighed, slowing back down again.

"Why can't it be someone else for a change."

"'Cause I'm the best at it," he replied after a moment of consideration, resting his hands on her shoulders from behind.

It was no lie. Luke's powerful physique, determined attitude and planning skills meant he was easily one of the best options as a runner. He was also very much a people person, fantastic at raising spirits and rallying others. Amos and Anne, the unofficial leaders of the camp, were quick to recruit him as their lead runner.

"Hey, look at me." Luke spun Rowan around and tilted her head upwards, their eyes meeting. "I'm gonna be fine, Ro. Got it?"

Rowan rolled her eyes once again. She knew he was good at what he did, she didn't need this mini lecture. "I got it."

"Good."

The pair marched onward, the sounds of the forest coming to life providing a much more settling atmosphere than the dead silence of winter. Birds were chirping, leaves rattled in the wind. The only downside was it made the dead ones harder to hear.

"Shh, wait a second," Luke said, alarming Rowan.

Both froze like statues as they listened. Another pair of footsteps joined them, nearby too. The trees were clumped together heavily, disguising whatever was moving, and both listened patiently to hear the direction they were coming from.

"Where is-" Rowan began but Luke silenced her with a gesture.

It grew closer by the minute. A walker no doubt, camouflaged by the dying colours of the post-winter landscape. The groans came soon after, gasping for flesh, a voice to send chills down anyone's spine.

"I got it!" Rowan said, dropping the metal bucket with a heavy clatter against a stone and pointing to the walking corpse coming from their left. She eagerly pulled out her hunting blade from her belt and was about to bound over to show off her skills.

"No." Luke didn't need to stop her physically, his stern voice was enough for his sister to comply.

He moved toward the creature. It was a woman, or at least it used to be, with heavy hair matted in blood and grime. Her clothing was torn and undistinguishable from the amount of blood and tears it had suffered. Luke's motion was quick and swift. Slipping a machete from his belt he delivered a swift swipe down the female's skull. The walker stopped moving instantly, falling to the ground with a thump as Luke tore the blade from her damaged brain.

He sighed. Even he, an experienced killer of these things, felt a horrid rush of fear each time he had to deal with them. Killing something that was once human, even if it wasn't anymore, was an unsettling thought.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Rowan told him. She looked disappointed at the lack of trust.

A flickering of guilt rumbled in Luke's chest. "I know you're not, Ro."

"I'm gonna have to start killing them eventually, I've done it before," she argued back, even though Luke wasn't looking for a fight.

"I'm your big brother, it's my job to protect you. So let me do my job, alright?" he told her as he cleaned the remaining brain matter off of his blade with an old handkerchief.

Rowan reluctantly nodded and picked up her bucket. Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her in close as they neared the pond.

"And when I'm gone, don't cause Anne or Amos any trouble. If they ask you to do something, you do it. That goes for Iris too."

"I swear if Iris makes me wash one more shirt I'm gonna throw a walker in her camper," Rowan mumbled under her breath. Luke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'll be good. You act like I never am."

Merrick was another member of the camp up early, mainly due to her father, Amos, waking up sharp in his military-like routine and doing a few push-ups against the creaky wooden floor boards of cabin four. After waiting for him to head out and go about his business, the twenty-one year old raised from her bed.

She quickly changed into some comfortable clothes and a pair of heavy-duty boots she'd found while on the move, and headed for the door with a few art supplies in hand. Her passion for creativity was evident by the splattered bursts of paint on her skinny jeans, and she expressed her other love – music – through a tee with her favourite band on it under a long-sleeved shirt.

She left her hair down as usual, just skimming her shoulder blades. What was once a beautiful rainbow of ethereal blue and silver hues was now faded into her chestnut roots, untouched with the lack of dye in this world, or the need for it.

She was one of few camp members less happy about the changing seasons. She liked it chilly, and although still pleasantly cool, the thought of summer coming along soon was unappealing.

Merrick paused to look around. The camp had always had a rather grave atmosphere considering what the world had come to, but the group were particularly anxious today. Located in the Wenatchee National Forest, the twenty-six survivors had formed a base at what was once known as the Blackwood Cabins, a collection of half a dozen small, wooden cabins that was once a popular tourist spot for those wanting to escape into the quaint countryside. Now it was a camp for those wishing to escape the horrors of the modern world.

The cabins were for sleeping in, though a caravan owned by an older woman named Iris was also on site (however she rarely let anyone inside). There was also a main building that was a hub of sorts for the community of survivors, storing all their supplies and weaponry inside, as well as housing a small office for the resident doctor, TJ, which was once some kind of staff room. There was only so much you could do with basic med kits.

The last building was smaller than the rest; a shower room with a handful of cubicles. The water was sourced from a local lake for campers to use as told through a rota. It lacked hot water after the boiler was broken beyond repair but being able to wash was a luxury most were grateful for.

The camp had been formed in the early days of the outbreak. Very few of the original survivors remained though, most having escaped elsewhere, or worse. Now less and less survivors had been arriving, even seeing one a month would be a surprise to the group. The remaining survivors had grown closer over the months, friendships had been made and roles had been dished out, though there was still some glaringly obvious tensions between them.

As Merrick left cabin four, she began her short walk. The cabins were scattered around the forest, all within sight of the others, and all connected by rock paths to the main building. In front of the building was a small parking lot where Iris stayed in her caravan, as well as a few other vehicles the survivors had found or arrived in. The area in front of the hub was where most activity happened. Survivors had clothes strung up to dry, fires for cooking, seats for relaxing and tables for working on, all set around this area. At this time in the morning, it was pretty dead.

Arriving at cabin two, Merrick gave the door a quiet knock, cautious about waking the residents. A young girl's voice called from inside, excited.

"I'll get it!" Merrick heard from within before a small girl of around eight pulled the door open. Like Merrick's father, the girl was Hispanic, with tanned skin and pretty dark hair in a braid. "Merrick!"

"Good morning, Sara," Merrick said with a happy smile as the little girl pulled her in for a hug.

The college aged girl had become a big sister to the youngest member of the camp. Her big, expressive grey eyes were always welcoming to the girl and Sara was fascinated by her hair. Being a mixture of her father's Hispanic heritage and her mother's Caucasian heritage, Merrick's skin was a blend of the two; a light tan colour. She was skinny unlike her buff father, though there was some distinct tone in her body that had mainly developed in recent months of running and hiding.

"Daddy's just getting his stuff together, come inside!" Sara said, grabbing Merrick's hand and pulling the older girl into the cabin. Like her own, it was pretty standard, with wooden furniture and not many decorations. "Miss Paula and Miss Heather are out doing chores so it's just daddy and me home." It was common for strangers to share the cabins, after all there wasn't room for a place each.

"Merrick?" The voice came from a figure crouched in the corner over a bag, filling it with some supplies.

The man stood up, showing off a rather intimidating frame. His shoulders were broad and he looked very athletic. Unmistakably of Hispanic descent with tan skin and dark features like his daughter, however unlike the little girl he had a much less welcoming presence. His face was stern and scarred and Merrick thought if she didn't know the man he wouldn't be the kind of guy she'd want to run into on the street.

"Thanks for coming, I'm extremely grateful for you doing this," he said. His voice had a gruff, heavy nature.

Merrick was familiar enough with Michael and his daughter now to know looks were deceiving. She too had a father and knew how stubborn they could be. She knew Michael would do anything to help his little girl. In fact, it was one of the reasons he was one of the more reluctant members to go on runs, despite being one of the more skilled people around. He preferred to hunt around camp and Merrick had a funny feeling it was because he liked to be close to Sara.

"You know I'm more than happy to help," she replied with a delicate smile. "Me and this little one are gonna have a blast, huh?" she said, fixing Sara's braided hair.

"She doesn't stop talking about you after she sees you. Always going on about how she's gonna grow up to be like you."

"I am, Daddy!" Sara said with a proud grin, looking up to Merrick.

"Or she'll talk about how pretty you are," he continued, rolling his eyes and even chuckling a little. A rare occurrence.

"She is pretty Daddy, you should definitely marry her," Sara blurted out innocently.

"Okay, that's enough now." Michael looked a little embarrassed. He was a young father, only in his early thirties. Merrick was impressed how well he'd raised his daughter on his own. Not many people gave props to single fathers in her opinion.

Leaning down, he turned the young girl around and wrapped his buff arms around her, holding tight. It was one of the few times Merrick seen affection from the quiet man.

"You be good, you hear me?" His voice didn't hide any concern. "Don't leave Merrick's sight even for a second and make sure you behave for everyone. Understand?"

"Yes Daddy," little Sara replied with puppy-dog eyes, pulling the grizzly looking man in for one more hug.

Letting go was hard for the both of them, but it eventually happened. Merrick took Sara's hand, showing her the art supplies she brought along in her other

"I thought we could do some drawing today, wouldn't that be fun?" she asked enthusiastically to raise the little girl's spirits.

As Sara's bubbliness returned, Merrick looked up at Michael. They didn't need to say anything to each other. The pair, though different, respected each other's roles in their makeshift community. Michael simply nodded his head before breaking the contact and going back to sorting out his supplies.

Merrick squeezed Sara's hand and led her to the door. "Let's go get this all set up, grab some breakfast and then we can go say goodbye to your daddy and everyone else, yeah?"

Runs were one of the few times where there was a real hustle and bustle about the camp. Most chores were dropped for ten minutes as the survivors gathered around the parking lot to say their goodbyes to friends and loved one. The runners would be back by the evening, but it seemed like a life time to family members. They'd lost others before and Amos in particular was determined not to allow it to happen again.

At forty-four, he was the prime age for taking on a leadership role in the Blackwood community. His age had brought him wisdom, but he was still strong enough to show he could kick ass if he needed to. His military background made him a natural leader, and his fatherly instincts also helped in controlling the younger members of the group.

The main reason he was in charge though wasn't his skills; it was the fact that there was no way in hell anyone else was gonna tell him what to do, especially someone half his age. Anne got away with telling him off occasionally, but he respected her despite their differences. And Iris occasionally got her way too, but then who the hell wasn't scared of that woman?

With an athletic build and strong facial features, as well as having ruggedly handsome good looks, he wasn't someone you'd want to cross. His steely grey eyes, harsher than those of his daughter, were almost always trying to decipher things cautiously.

Hanging around the navy-coloured Jeep in the parking lot, Amos was ensuring the vehicle was properly stocked up as others said their goodbyes.

Merrick stood patiently behind little Sara as Michael leaned into his daughter and pulled her in tight for one last hug. The male reminded Amos a lot of himself with Merrick. It could be difficult to let go. Luke and Rowan were a little less solemn, the siblings trying to lighten each other up and make each other laugh. Luke was usually pretty serious and mature, a reason Amos respected him so much, but he knew that humour would comfort his sister. The last of the runners had no-one to say goodbye to. Rebecca stood by the Jeep talking to a few of the other campers.

Rebecca was in her twenties but could have passed for younger. She was a very pretty woman will pale, doll-like features and soft blonde locks tied into a side ponytail. But the trauma of world ending had left her looking tired, bags finding a permanent residence under her haunted green eyes. She was the newest arrival at the camp, having stumbled upon them only a couple of weeks ago. Rebecca had since been a mystery to the camp members, showing only brief signs of life beneath her cold exterior, but quickly hiding them whenever she felt she was warming up too much. She had nearly instantly volunteered for a role as a runner and no one objected. Her agile frame made her a good asset to the team. Unlike the men though, she was less willing to say goodbyes, though a few dragged her into a hug anyway.

Turning away, the blonde woman approached Amos at the rear of the vehicle to drop off her bag. It was almost as if he wasn't there, the way she blanked him.

"Feeling nervous?" Amos asked, less concerned and more probing in order to understand the woman more.

"Not really. It's my fifth run now," Rebecca replied bluntly.

"Really?" Amos continued, taking a step closer to the woman. Not even a flinch. "I always think it's good to have some nerves before this kinda thing. Keeps you on your toes. We need that."

"It's not like I'm gonna let my guard down. I'm ready," she said defensively.

The two stubborn individuals looked each other down for a moment before Amos half-smiled at her.

"You said when you got here you wouldn't be staying… What ever happened to that?" The older man was genuinely curious.

"Priorities. I'm just preparing, I guess," Rebecca said, fixing her ponytail as she watched Michael and Luke climb into the front seats of the vehicle. "It's pretty tiring running all the time."

Rebecca walked away, ending the conversation as she hopped in the back alone, as always. As much as he liked to solve problems, Rebecca was one Amos just couldn't work out.

"Look after yourselves," he called out as the Jeep began to pull away. It was directed to all of them, but part of him felt it especially important for Rebecca to remember this. With the car disappearing away in the distance, the campers quickly disappeared back to their lives and Amos was left alone.

With it being April, spring had just arrived, though it was still cool and rain was always likely in Washington. It was a gorgeous location in the deep forests of the state, but the dampness caused by the weather made it difficult to be cosy. Everyone had exchanged their thick winter coats for light waterproof parkas and leather jackets more appropriate for the weather.

It was no problem for the likes of Anne Marie. She was always a practical woman from her looks down to her clothes. Short and slim, she kept fit even at the age of fifty. She was what you would call a handsome woman with sharp, prominent features and pronounced cheekbones, being of Italian descent.

Wearing comfortable jeans and a brown leather coat, she kept herself warm enough without being too hot in the early spring weather. Getting too cold wasn't often a problem as the trees seemed to block a lot of the heavier winds. Her black boots were perfect for the forest floor though, especially after the recent rainfall that left the bark and dead leaves damp.

If Amos was the leader of security in the camp, Anne Marie could be considered the leader of foraging supplies and maintaining a healthy environment. A motherly figure by nature, the older woman always had the best intentions in mind and being a social worker meant communicating with others came naturally to her. She managed the food supplies, the chore rotas, and her knowledge of flora came in handy when picking plants in the forest for food or even medicine.

With a basket in hand, she walked beside another new member of camp, Savannah Cortez. Another Hispanic member of the camp, Savannah was a gorgeous woman. Her hair, though messily chopped from an walker-related incident, was thick and dark, passing her shoulders and matching her warm, glowing skin and soft brown eyes. She was short and skinny, aside from signs of a growing bump in her belly.

The topic of Savannah's child was a hot one in the camp, mostly taking place behind her back. Some were concerned for how difficult it could be to have a pregnant woman to look after. It also meant, despite being strangers Savannah, they were protective over her.

Savannah was grateful to be part of a community where she could actually relax. Like everyone else, she had people she wanted to look for, but after being on the run for months her hope had dwindled away and she had grown exhausted of searching.

Being in a well stocked camp also meant she felt useful for the first time she'd discovered she was pregnant. Being a registered nurse, she assisted TJ in looking after their makeshift medical bay and he was thankful to be given a break every now and then. It also meant she had a doctor to keep an eye on her pregnancy.

"How's the, uh, bump doing?" Anne asked as she trotted along side Savannah, feeling extremely unfeminine in comparison to the naturally elegant looking Hispanic woman.

"Oh, it's fine. I'm only a couple of months I think so it's far from being a nuisance just yet," Savannah said calmly. She had her concerns about it, same as everyone else, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Oh, I know that, but all these men don't know crap. So if they start to get on your nerves, especially that Amos, just let me know and I'll tell them off." Anne was too the point, but had a motherly nature to her. She was a people person and to many, her best trait was that she treated everyone equally to herself. It made her a voice of reason in the camp.

Savannah was relieved at the answer. It was a nice change to have another mature female to relate to, despite being in her mid-thirties, compared to the fifty year-old Anne.

"Do you mind if I ask if you ever had any children, Anne? It would be nice to get some kind of reference from someone who doesn't have a penis," Savannah said with a laugh.

"Hell no. Never had a man in my life. Spent my youth as a nun-"

"You were a nun?" Savannah interrupted, a heavy tone of disbelief in her voice as she let out a small laugh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, it's just... You never struck me as the type."

"Neither did I," Anne-Marie replied, prompting both women to laugh a little as they continued their walk. "No, I thought it was the right path for me. I was young and naive. The boys didn't think I was pretty and neither did my own mother. God, the amount of times I was told off for cursing as a nun. I'm not an angry person but I swear the patience of some of those nuns is some kind of super power, I was surprised I was the only one who broke at times."

"Did you ever want kids?" Savannah probed some more.

There was a little sigh as she finished, perhaps one of regret? Even she wasn't sure. "I think I would have liked kids... I'm not sure. I guess the thought of finding a man was scary enough in itself though, let alone giving birth... No offence."

Savannah grinned at that. "None taken, I can't say it's the part I'm most looking forward to myself."

"Hey, see those?" Anna said as she stopped, pointing to a plant by her feet near a small pond of water. Savannah nodded. "Cattails. You've probably seen them before around lakes. One of the most useful plants you can find." She began to tug a few out of the dark water and place them in the basket she was carrying.

"It's just a normal reed though?" Savannah said with an equal measure of confusion and curiosity.

"It's not just any reed." Anne Marie picked another from the water and snapped it at the lower part of the stem. From it leaked a sticky, amber liquid she rubbed between her fingers. "It's got antiseptic properties. Nothing major but it can help with scars, rashes, even burns."

"That could definitely come in handy. TJ and I are pretty worried about the stock of meds we have. I mean, people are coming to us with scrapes and bruises asking for stuff and we need something expendable to give them.

Anne Marie nodded in agreement and the two began collecting the cattails until their baskets were full. They continued their journey around the body of water in peace, the atmosphere between them quiet but still comfortable. They met back at the other side of the large pond.

"Not a bad haul, huh?" Savannah said, showing off her basket, having gathered a few edible mushrooms Anne had shown her a few days prior. "Did you used to camp when you were younger? You seem to have a pretty good knowledge of this kind of stuff."

"No, no, my parents hated the outdoors. I just love gardening. It's the best way to unwind. I always..." Anne trailed off, looking to the distance behind Savannah. "Hold up. Walker."

It was unusual for Anne Marie to be so serious when speaking, but her whole body looked alert and tensed up as she heard a faint rustling nearby. Savannah heard it too and spun around.

The two scanned the area but the major issue with being in the forest meant walkers had a lot more places blend into and stay out of sight. The pair's heartbeats increased in sync as Anne Marie removed a hunting knife first. Keeping silent, she motioned Savannah to stay close and follow her. Not one to want to be left out, the younger woman slid a slightly smaller kitchen knife from her belt as adrenaline pumped through her body.

Moving through the thick greenery of the forest, the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs got even louder until they finally spotted the culprit. The walker, an old man, with grey hair thick with dirt and blood. Flesh around his jaw had been chewed on leaving his dirty teeth exposed. His skin was also grey, peeling and rotting away, crawling with dozens of bugs, the very definition of decay. His clothes were torn to the point where she was nearly naked aside from ripped fabric twisted around his torso. A knife in his stomach suggested someone had tried and failed to stop him as he moved forward at a menacingly slow pace. It was the first walker Savannah had seen in a week.

To their surprise, as they crept toward the creature, the decaying male instead dropped to his knees, moving in another direction despite the noise the women were making. Instead of a inhuman groan, they heard one that was very much alive, a man grunting aloud.

"Two of them?" Savannah asked in confusion as the pair moved closer. It wasn't a threat, but they liked to remove any walkers from the area as soon as possible. The last thing they needed was a crowd.

"Stay close." Anne bounded ahead, watching as the walker climbed on to what looked like a corpse on the ground. But the thing it was on was fighting back, wrestling the dead-thing off of it.

Anne-Marie raised her knife and plunged it into the back of the walker's head with an unpleasant crunch. Wiggling it free, she heard the sound of a person panting frantically and quickly rolled the corpse over to see what or who it was attacking.

Another figure was lying with it's head against a tree. This was a male. Greasy brown hair fell from his head and an unkempt, bushy beard grew from his chin. Any skin that wasn't caked in mud or the fresh blood of the walker was pale and cold looking, and his eyes were heavy and dark as he mumbled some inaudible words. The man looked dead, passing out with exhaustion, but he was no walker.

"We gotta get this one back to camp."

Next episode: The new arrival is questioned by the camp members but struggles to receive a warm welcome from all of the survivors. Meanwhile, Luke, Rebecca and Michael find themselves in trouble in town as they try to tackle their most challenging run yet.

There we have it folks! Hope you enjoy and please drop a review! Even a simple 'Update soon!' is always encouraging to know you're reading :)

I would like to apologise to those who are returning to the story but I hope you're enjoying it all over again. There are some similarities with this chapter and the old first chapter, but I tried to keep it different.

I'd also just like to say a massive thanks for everyone who submitted (newcomers and old)! I received a crazy amount of characters and it was very difficult to choose so please don't feel bad if yours didn't make it to the starting group. It's the Walking Dead after all - no character is safe and any of them could be gone at any time. As such, submissions will always remain open for those wanting to submit (that includes people with character's in the story already!) as we'll always be coming across new survivors, though it's unlikely any I haven't accepted already will be making an appearance in the first few chapters.

It's been a busy couple of days with lots of spread sheets, collages and photo hunting for this story. As some of you know, I'm big on visuals and very OCD so have documented all kinds of information and put together a variety of pictures to help with my creating. A character list is now available on my page with basic information on the current recurring characters that have been mentioned. It'll be updated each time a major character is introduced!

As I'm very visual with characters (as I mentioned) I included pictures of those who gave me face claims on my profile (apologies for having to copy and paste as links don't work on the site!) I've even found some pictures for those who didn't send in face claims but haven't yet posted them in case you disagree with my choice - if you want to see who I had in mind just message me! None of the face claims are perfect representations, but it's the general look of the character. Subtle things like exact eye colour, scarring, etc. may differentiate.

Finally, if you're ever not happy with the way I'm portraying your character, please let me know and I'll do my best to amend it!

Catch you next time - hopefully soon!

-Soulless Fantasy