AN: New OC for my newest TV obsession, The Walking Dead. Special thanks to my beta gameovaries :)

Chapter 1: Back To Atlanta

Jordyn knew they could always use more guns.

She sat in the back of the truck across from T-Dog and next to Glenn. Daryl was sitting in the passenger's seat, seething. The Dixon brothers were most definitely not well-liked around camp to say the least. Merle was the worst kind of human being Jordyn had ever met. He was an unhinged racist, a sexist pig who prayed on all the women at camp, and everything bad about humanity rolled into one guy who always carried a loaded rifle. So by default, his brother was just as much an outcast as Merle. They mostly kept to themselves and everyone preferred to leave them alone. Now it was Merle that had unexpectedly brought them all together.

Rick hadn't wanted to take Jordyn along. He didn't say why, but the pitying looks she got from him said enough. He didn't think she could handle it. She didn't care; it wouldn't be long before she proved him wrong. He wasn't the first person to make the wrong assumption about her. Jordyn was on the shorter side, at twenty-seven most people towered over her, but it had never really bothered her. Small statures ran in her family, her mother was one of the few people shorter than Jordyn. Her hair had always been dark chocolate in colour (another family trait), thin and often worn in a ponytail because of her job. Her tawny eyes stood out on her round face and her willowy frame gave her a very placid appearance, often leading to the assumption that she was approachable and friendly.

Before the Walkers showed up, that assumption would have been accurate. She didn't like to think about how much all of this had changed her.

Glenn had a unique knowledge of Atlanta and called out turns to Rick to get them to the department store that had become a relatively safe place for them. Glenn had managed to find a way in and out through access tunnels and fire escapes that kept them all clear off the ground away from the Walkers. The group had been travelling to the department store for canned foods, medicines, even clothes. It was a huge, multi-level structure relatively untouched by the drama that had massacred the streets. So far the Walkers hadn't managed to infiltrate many of the well protected department stores and supermarkets. It was possibly the only good thing about the bulk of society being undead; they didn't eat or need medication.

From what Jordyn had been told, Glenn's rescue of Rick had severely compromised their department hideout. This would be the last time they travelled there and hopefully Merle was still chained up on the roof.

The van slid over a pothole, making Jordyn cling tighter to her rifle. When the world had ended, Jordyn had been one of the many regular citizens who had to quickly become knowledgeable about weapons. Before everything went to hell, she'd worked in a bar and had basic training using the ancient shotgun her boss kept under the counter. There was only one occasion that she actually had to use it but even then the mere image of the gun had sent the thief running before she'd fired it.

It was a strange feeling to have just been trained with a weapon that she rarely had opportunity to use and to now never leave her tent without her rifle and ammo. She'd shot and killed more people in the past few months than she ever imagined she'd need to. The fact that they were Walkers (the undead, zombies, monsters, etc) eased her guilt over time. She wasn't murdering people; she was gunning down flesh-hungry shells of humanity who wanted to rip her throat out and turn her into one of them. It made pulling the trigger easier.

"Stop by the railroad." Glenn called out to Rick as he pulled off the main road. "We'll have to walk from here."

They were all well aware that noise drew the Walkers out, so the five of them were silent as they exited the van and headed up the train tracks towards the city.

A couple of months ago, Jordyn would be looking for signs of life, other survivors or people who needed help. Now, they were either dead, undead, or had cleared out and headed for one of the rumoured evacuation camps. Rick was the first living survivor Jordyn had seen in weeks. She'd stopped looking for people who needed help.

Rick and Glenn lead the way as they made their way over a chain link fence. In the distance, Jordyn could see some Walkers swaggering back and forth in the street; simply existing and doing nothing more.

The department store was two blocks into the city; Jordyn could see it from where they were, but it wasn't as simple as going through the entrance. Glenn's way in was through an alleyway, up a fire escape and in through an air conditioning vent on the roof. Jordyn had been this way a few times before with Glenn and Shane, and whoever else dared to make the trip from camp. But there was a different feeling about it this time. Their safe department store wasn't safe anymore. Walkers were dumb, but they could crash through glass and keep stumbling on. If nothing more; they were resilient.

Bringing up the rear of the group was Jordyn along with T-Dog. She admired him for coming; he was still nursing wounds from his last visit with Merle who had unleashed verbal, racial and physical assault on him. Andrea had relayed the fight for her younger sister, Amy, and Jordyn the night before. She'd said Merle was threatening all of them and Rick saved the day. Jordyn supposed that was one of the reasons why T-Dog was accompanying them. Glenn knew the streets and was there at Rick's request.

Jordyn had come for her own reasons. Rick was new; she didn't fully trust him. And she felt better following him around and making sure he was the kind of guy he claimed to be rather than patrolling the camp perimeter in the sun waiting to see if any Walkers would make the trek up the mountain. Plus, she liked Glenn and T-Dog. She was interested in keeping them around; even if it did mean rescuing Merle and suffering through his rants.

First up the fire escape was Glenn, followed by Rick and then Daryl. T-Dog made Jordyn go next and waited until she was a few rungs up before he followed her. They quickly sprinted across the roof and were in the depths of the department store's air conditioning unit minutes later.

Rick had Daryl nearby with his crossbow; it was a quieter weapon than either Rick or Jordyn's guns. T-Dog was nursing a probably broken rib and Glenn carried nothing more than his backpack.

Clicking his fingers at Daryl, Rick pointed out a female Walker stumbling near the register.

"You're one ugly skank..." Daryl muttered as he lined up an arrow and fired it right into her skull. She collapsed in a heap before she seemed to register that they were all there.

Jordyn couldn't shake the creepy feeling that she was being watched as she carefully followed Daryl down the aisles as they headed for the stairs to the roof. The double glass entrance doors were completely smashed through and the abhorred stench of the undead was still in the air. The bulk of them were gone, unable to find anything to eat.

That was unless they'd managed to get to Merle.

If she was thinking it, Jordyn was sure everyone else was. That they'd get to the roof and Merle would be half-eaten or perhaps already a Walker. Jordyn was prepared for death; it was an inevitable consequence of her life now. But she was yet to get used to seeing someone she knew as a zombie; even if it was a man she most definitely wouldn't miss.

Even with all she was expecting, Jordyn didn't know how to react to what they did find on the roof.

Merle was nowhere to be seen. His hand, however, was lying in a puddle of blood underneath a pair of broken handcuffs and a bloody hacksaw.

"No..." Daryl's eyes darted around the roof; searching for his brother. "No!" He yelled out to the sky. "No! No! No!"

Jordyn wasn't sure what to do. If it had been anyone else she might have known what to say, but the Dixon guys were not ones for conversation at the best of times. Anything she said was likely to be retaliated with an insult. She found it strange; she'd seen more emotion in Daryl in the past two hours than in the whole time she'd known him. But then again, she'd been alone from the start of all this. Daryl had always had his brother.

His anger quickly escalated to furious grief. He spun around and aimed his crossbow directly between T-Dog's eyes making him flinch but not stand down. T-Dog remained collected even with a weapon to his head.

Just as fast, Rick had his pistol at Daryl's forehead. On instinct, Jordyn aimed her gun at Daryl, too. The sound of her aiming it incited a dark glare from her target; his piercing blue eyes were cold and made her uncomfortable, but she didn't break her gaze.

"I won't hesitate." Rick threatened. "I don't care if every damn Walker in the city hears."

Daryl looked away from Jordyn, eyes squinting back tears and swallowing hard. He lowered his crossbow, and turned back somewhat apologetically to T-Dog. "You got a do-rag or somethin'?" He asked.

Clenching his jaw, T-Dog reached into his pocket, pulled out a patterned rag and handed it to Daryl who proceeded to carefully kneel before his brother's hand and gently wrap it up in the rag. He was mumbling that the blade must have been too blunt to cut through the cuffs, so instead Merle had sliced off his hand.

"Must have used a tourniquet." He said. "Maybe his belt..." Much to Glenn's obvious disgust, Daryl stored his brother's hand in Glenn's backpack. "There'd be much more blood if he didn't."

Having seen a lot of people die, Jordyn knew he was right. There was a small pool of blood under the cuffs where the hand had been but other than that, there were just drops smattered across the rooftop towards a door behind the air vents. Daryl started to follow the drops.

T-Dog stayed behind to gather up the tools while the rest of the group followed Merle's path. The door led to a stairwell, thankfully empty. The nearest fire escape led them inside the building, some sort of office complex that seemed eerily like a ghost town. A place like this would be bustling during a normal day, lights on, printers running, phones ringing, but now it was just dead. As dead as the Walker who was ambling back and forth in the corner office Jordyn passed. She assumed he had once worked here. His suit seemed to match the surroundings. Maybe there was a memory of this place in his mind, Jordyn wondered as she raised her rifle to the Walker. Or maybe he was just stuck.

The Walker's head split open and he fell in a heap beside the window, but Jordyn hadn't pulled her trigger yet.

"Don't be stupid." Daryl grunted, pushing past her and retrieving his arrow from the corporate zombie's skull. "The echo would bring out every Walker in this building."

Jordyn didn't reply. She wasn't sure if he was insulting her or just making a comment, but she didn't care to find out. As she edged into the hallway she saw that T-Dog had joined up with them again with the hefty case of tools in his hand. The group made their way into what appeared to be a lobby and were confronted by two Walkers; already dead with a spanner lying between their bodies.

"He had enough in him to take these two out," Daryl said with nervous optimism as he reloaded his crossbow. "Toughest sonuvabitch I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer and he'd crap out nails."

"Any man can pass out from blood loss." Rick pointed out. "No matter how tough he is."

They kept going, deeper into the building towards what appeared to be a kitchen. A flickering light drew them in. One of the burners on the stove to the right was switched on; a small flame was still alight. There were blood drops all over the floor and a burnt swatch of leather that looked to Jordyn like a belt. There was some sort of flat iron next to the stove with something black and sticky all over it.

"What is that? That burnt stuff?" Jordyn asked as Rick picked up the iron, trying to ignore the flips her stomach was doing.

"Skin." Rick said, blanching. "He cauterized his stump."

Glenn turned a sickly shade of pale and looked away.

"Told you he was tough," Daryl said. "Ain't nobody who can kill Merle but Merle."

"He's lost a lot of blood." Rick set the iron back down.

Something at the window caught Daryl's eye. "Didn't stop him from bustin' out of this death trap." He led them to a pile of broken glass and a hole where the window pane would have been. There was also a towel soaked red with blood.

"He left the building?" Glenn, still pale, managed to find his voice. "Why would he do that?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Daryl retorted. "He thinks he's alone. He is alone. Doing what he's gotta do. Survivin'."

"You call that surviving?" T-Dog spoke up. "Wandering out in the streets and passing out? What are his chances out there?"

"No worse than being left here to rot by you sorry pricks!" Daryl flared up again, going nose to nose with Rick this time. "You couldn't kill him. I ain't much worried about some dumb dead bastard."

"What about a thousand dumb, dead bastards?" Rick asked coolly. "Different story?"

Daryl didn't press the matter. "Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want; I'm gonna get him."

Now it was Rick's turn to get angry. "Daryl, wait!" He pushed him against his chest.

"Get your hands off me!" Daryl hollered, shoving Rick backwards. "You can't stop me!"

"I don't blame you." Rick suddenly sounded calm and sincere. "He's family. I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." He sighed. "He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head."

Daryl tensed, but didn't react. Instead he nodded. "I can do that."

"We get the guns first." T-Dog spoke up. "I ain't wanderin' around the city with just my good intentions."

"Agreed." Jordyn said. "We could split up; two groups?" She suggested. "Those of us with weapons could go out and get the guns, bring them back here?"

"And what do we do if those things grab you?" T-Dog raised his eyebrows. "No, I don't think we should split up."

"I can go." Glenn suddenly piped up. "I know the streets. I could navigate my way to the guns and back."

"That's too dangerous." Rick said firmly.

"I got you out of that tank." Glenn reminded him.

Jordyn shook her head, she liked Glenn too much to lose him on such an inept plan. "You're not doing that."

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl added.

"It's a good idea." Glenn assured them, setting his bag down and grabbing a handful of items of a desk nearby. "Hear me out."

One of the items he took was a pen, he started to draw a map on the linoleum floor. "If we go up there in a group; we're slow. We'd draw attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast. Look," He placed a large bulldog clip in the centre of his map. "That's the tank." He set a small scrunched up piece of paper next to it. "That's the bag of guns." He pointed to the street beside the tank. "This is the alley where we first met. That's where Daryl, Jordyn and I will go."

Daryl looked puzzled. "Why me?"

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun."

"It's quieter than mine, too." Jordyn admitted.

"You give yours to T-Dog," Glenn instructed her. "I'll need you to stand guard at the gate, make sure nothing crosses my path on the way back. And I'll need help with the guns. You're fast, too." He used a pen cap as her marker on the map. "You wait here, Daryl," A paperclip. "You'll be in the alley."

Jordyn wasn't happy with the idea of handing over her rifle; she'd had it since the second day of all this crap. But if belligerent Darryl could play nice, and T-Dog could put aside his hate for Merle, then she could adapt for one trip without her gun. Slowly, she nodded in agreement to Glenn.

"And what about us?" Rick motioned to himself and T-Dog.

"You'll be here." Glenn placed an eraser a couple of blocks from the bulldog-tank.

"Two blocks away?" Rick looked puzzled. "Why?"

"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off." Glenn explained. "If that happens I won't go back to Daryl, I'll go forward instead. All the way to the alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I've got you in both places to cover me. Afterwards we'll all meet back here."

"Hey kid," Daryl spoke up. "What you do before all this?"

"Delivered pizzas." He answered. "Why?"

If Jordyn had been in a better mood; she would have laughed.