#glenn rhee imagnes

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead || CHAPTER TWO.

‘You have to trust that every friendship has no end, that a communion of saints exists among all those, living and dead, who have truly loved God and one another.

You know from experience how real this is.  Those you have loved deeply and who have died live on in you,  not just as memories but as real presences.’

HENRI NOUWEN

                       The Walking Dead.

      Season 1-?

                                       FEM OC! and ?

Hope you like it :)) and here is the link to CHAPTER ONE!

My home is nothing but radiant. It's a place that is constantly filled with smiles and laughter and sometimes the occasional tear, but no matter what we get through it because we are a family. It's filled with so many memories; like when Corey and I tried to make mom a cake for her birthday and ended up spending her birthday at the hospital because Corey somehow got a teaspoon stuck up her left nostril, or when I came home from school claiming to have a new pet. My mom thought it would have been a snail or a worm, like something normal, but no I was a bit of a weird kid and brought home a skunk. I don't know how I found it or how I managed to get it to rest peacefully in my school backpack all day, but what I do know is that we all had to spend a week at a motel whitest our house got deep cleaned.

I had my first heartbreak in this house, my room filling up with tears like that one scene from Alice in Wonderland, only difference was I was 6 years old and claimed I had already met the love of my life.

This house has blessed me with so many things. One of those things being a chance. A chance at a normal upbringing in a comfortable home. It also blessed me with 2 sisters at the age of 4 and the most amazing mother I could have ever asked for. At the end of the day, my home, 76 Baden Way, Mormont, is the one consistent happiness in my life.

That's why I'm confused.

The drive up the all too familiar street was oddly unsettling. It didn't feel right. To be fair I didn't grow up in a white picket community with neighbours that give you cookies every fortnight or invite you to their weekly barbecues in their freshly mowed lawns, but it wasn't a bad place. 

Was I gone for too long, it's only been a couple of days.

The houses that once stood tall, the house that once signified homeliness, now appear to be on there last leg. The once standing, chipped fences are now nonexistent, flattened into the ground. The once curtained windows, with the occasional flower pot on the window sill, are now completely bored up, no light being shown into the what I assume darkened houses.

Normally finding parking in my street is a nightmare, it's always something for somebody. Whether it be a birthday or a family get together, there is never any space for me to park my car relatively close to my own house. Of course, I complain, it's annoying, but for some reason being able to just drive straight into my own driveway is sickening to me. Where's mom's car?

My car whistles to a stop as I cut the engine. Neither I or Cora dare to move as we look upon what we once called home. The once fully in season apple tree is now snapped basically in half, rotten apples scattered around the dying grass. As for the house itself, it's not doing so hot either, the garage door is now covered with large indents in the shapes of fists, the odd splatter of blood causing bile to gather in my mouth. The usually crystal clear windows are now dust-ridden and black with ash, unable to see what's within the once homely home.

"What it like this when you left for school this morning?" I question Cora, the unsettling feeling that our home is giving me makes my voice lose all strength. 

Shaking her head timidly, "No," she replies, "Everything was normal."

'Now is as good a time as any', I thought as I reach over into the passages seat pocket, grabbing my Cloy Python. Looking my scared sister in the eye I said, "You can stay in the car if you want. I'll scoop the place out, make sure it's safe."

Shaking her head vigorously at my suggesting, gripping onto my arm, prohibiting me from leaving the car alone, "I'd feel a lot safer with you." If it wasn't for the situation I would have poked fun at her for needing her big sister but honestly, I'd feel safer with her too.

Nodding my head, I exit the car and make my way around the front of our house. With shaky legs, Cora stands as tall as she could beside me. Not knowing what we're about to walk into, I detach my baton from my belt and hand it to my timid sister. With trembling but understanding hands she clutched it tightly, white-knuckled.

Mom normal locks the door, no matter what, it's always locked. That's the first sign that somethings wrong. The front down just swung open. I keep my gun raised as I slowly step into my house, the sound of glass crunching under my combat boots, the side window had been smashed. Would explain why the doors unlocked.

"Someone else could be here, be careful, stay alert," I whisper to my sister how had barely moved an inch into our house, my baton still stuck to her right hand.

The dark wood cabinet, where all our favourite captured memories were framed, is now broken, laying on its fronts, surrounded by glass and water from the Fine China flower vase. 

Bending down to flip over one of the pictures scattered on the floor, only to be met with the smiling faces of my family. We went to the Grand Canyon a few years ago, we were all so excited but we didn't check the weather. Who knew the Grand Canyon, y'know that big dry place, had flash floods, beats me, but that didn't stop out Mom from forcing us to still have a picnic on the waterlogged grass. 'It's all part of the experience' she said. If the experience was having a cold for weeks after the trip then we nailed it. I couldn't help but smile it the silly but fond memory, but I guess with the way the world is headed moments of endearment and reminiscing don't last very long.

A subtly whistle from my sister causes me to raise to my feet slowly, turning to see her pointing quietly into the family room. Standing still for a minute or so, the loud silence is broken by the soft sound of pattering feet. Signalling for my sister to stay behind me, I stalk my way into the room. Expecting to see one of those things in our living room, I flip the safety of my revolver, taking aim. As though glued to the spot, my legs for some reason forgetting how to work as my eyes settle on a figure standing, back towards us, facing the bookshelf. Not moving like any of those things from before, or making any similar noises, I come to the conclusion that's there is a person in our house. A person I don't know.

"Stay where you are and don't move," my once shaky voice now filled nothing but authority as I order the person before us to halt. Getting the picture, the person raised their hands slowly not daring to move another inch, "Who are you and why are you in my house?" I question, my aim on the back of their head never flatters.

"Ain't no need for that now little missy" their thick Geogiran accent breaking through the tense air in the room, "what happened to a little common southern hospitality?" He asks laughing clearly not taking any of this seriously.

"You broke into my house and you expect what, a welcome party. Oh wait and I'll fetch the balloons," the sarcasm rolls of my tongue like venom. The nerve of this guy.

"Correction I didn't break-in, I was pleasantly granted access," he corrects cocking his head to the side. Even though I can't see his face I already know that's there's a shit-eating grin.

"Granted access by who?" Perks up Cora, her voice not as protruding towards the figure but her point still stands.

Seeing the man nodding his head in acknowledgement, clicking his tongue in the roof of his mouth, "ah you're the sisters. The cop and the college chick," he laughed, his hands no longer held up but instead on his knees as he leans over slightly in laughter. Not understanding what's so funny, I cock my gun causing him to shot back up to attention, any signs of joking no completely evaporated into thin air.

Turning his head slightly despite my order to not move, his stubbly side profile coming into view, half a smirk lazily dancing along his face, "I take it you're the bad cop," he attempts to joke again, but it falls short, in a situation like this, one that has my moms safety on the line, is not the time to be Mr Comedian.

"Where's my mom" I rolled my eyes at the man, asking the serious question at hand. If he as much laid a single finger on her, I swear, if he thinks I'm the bad cop now, he's got another thing coming.

"Well if that's what you wanted this whole time you should have just asked little missy," he exclaims turning round to fully face us. He's a shaggy looking man, looking to be in his early 40s. His short blond hair sitting a mess on the top of his head. He has a few scars here and there and eyes that sent an uneasy shiver down my spine. His attire, clad in an old button-down shirt and a dirty wife-beater that looks to be stained with sweat from the Atlanta heat.

I already knew he was armed, spotting the gun that was tucked tightly into the back pocket of his cargo pants. Based on looks alone I already know what type of man I'm dealing with here. A stereotypical, boorish, southern redneck. Most of these men are ticking time bombs and the fact that one has found there way into my home, the place where my mother is, doesn't sit right with me.

"Come on out now Charlotte," He called out of the broken-down door, leading to the stairs, "I think it was a bird," he mutters, kicking this right leg quickly. Looking down at the ground, aside from the broken glass and wood chips, there are also feathers. Must have been the bird he was talking about.

The sound of light feet pattering down the stairs causes my ear to twitch, almost cat-like, but I don't flatter my aim on the man, "are you sure, I thought I heard-" the voice of my mother echos through the room from behind me. Mom. As subtly as possible I attempted to flip the safety back on my gun, not want to catch the attention of the man before me, but the silence fails me yet again, the soft clicking of my gun makes the man look at me, a knowing grin on his face. Cocky bastard.

"Cora, Macy," relieves mom, as she rushes over the glittering glass, skidding with friction, pulling both of us into a bone-crushing hug, "you're okay?" She asks as she separated from us, holding us at an arms distance, looking us over for signs of injury.

"Mom, Mom! We're fine," Cora reassures our panicking mother, holding her ageing face between her hands, looking her seriously in the eye, "we're okay." 

Yeah, we might be but what about her.

My mom is a colourful woman. She always said 'the world is simply in black and white, but that doesn't mean we can't add our own colours'. Whether it is a bold pair of earrings or an eyesore of a scarf, she is always surrounded by colour, but not today. She clad in a shirt that appears to big for her petite frame, baggy jeans and hiking boots. No colour, just black and white, not like our mother at all. Her hair resembling that of a birds nest and her glasses sitting at a slant. She doesn't look put together.

"This is Merle," my mom waves her hand in the direction of the man whose eyes have not left mine, not so subtly looking me up and down with a look that makes me feel sick to my stomach, "He and his brother saved me from those people, brought me back here safely."

"That we did Charlotte," this Merle character near enough shouts in reply. 'What is this man so damn loud for?', "Just a bit of Southern hospitality. Something your daughter here could learn about," he says clearly not liking the fact that I still have my gun pointed in his direction.

"Macy put the gun down," the stern voice of my mother caused me to holster my gun against my thigh, but I refuse to let my guard down. I don't trust this Merle, whether he saved my mom or not, something just doesn't sit right with me.

"That's more like it girly," he says sounding assertive as if he has just won. It pretty clear that the man has some military experience. I can feel it in the air. The way he thinks he can control the room and the people in it, "My baby brother should be back soon, but I say we meet him halfway."

Is this some kind of joke?

"Look thanks for help our mom," I eventually cave into thanking the man, "But no way in hell are we going anywhere with you."

"Now I think your mommy over there would disagree with that?"

I turn to look at my mother who has a reluctant look in her eye, but not at the sketchy man in our living room, but at me. Is she really thinking about leaving with this man? Everything about him screams red flags and that's not just because I'm a cop but from just general observation. This is the type of man you would not want to meet alone at night.

"He and his brother have plans to head for Fort Benning," My mom starts slowly, clearly trying to find the right words, "I thought we could go with them."

I'm already shaking my head as my mom is speaking and I can hear her breath getting quicker and quicker, panicking, "Please," she begs, her voice cracking as I notice the tears building up in her eyes, "Please Macy, I want us to be safe."

Safe.

With the way things are going, I don't know how much longer we can be safe. I’ve always seen my home as the safest place on earth. It's where I live. It's where I grew up. My whole life started here in this very house, surrounded by people that I love. I always swore to protect my family. I didn't know what I would have to protect them from but seems as though the time has come to prove this more than ever.

"Ah, now Macy, baby," Merle begins to taunt, starting to walk closer but stops when he sees my hand rest on my gun again, "What kind of daughter would you be to deny your mom of safety."

"Why don't you just stay the fuck out of this?" I snapped at the man how held his hands up in defence and walked over to our couch bending down to pick up the rifle that I failed to notice resting on the table.

"Macy," I hear Cora whisper from behind me and when I turn to look at her the look in her eye tells it all. She's scared.

She's scared.

Mom's scared.

I'm scared.

"Where's this brother of yours?" I sigh turning to face Merle who is looking out of the window, his eyes darting from left to right.

"Away hunting," he shrugs, "should be back in an hour or two, but we're losing light. I say we meet him halfway."

For some reason, my mom just agrees with this and turns to Cora, telling her to pack a bag for her and me. My mom wonders off to wait outside, but I stay put. I don't trust this man, and I sure as hell don't trust him wandering around my house where both my mom and sister are. I stand my ground and clear my throat causing merle to turn in my direction, "Try anything, and I won't hesitate to put one between your eyes."

"I'd like to see you try," he lets out a burly laugh before pushing his way past me and out of the front door.

'What have I gotten myself into?' I thought as the sound of a car door slamming shut snaps me from my own world.

Call it wishful thinking, I already knew the answers to the question that was spinning around in my head. She wasn't back, and she was never going to come back. But there was no harm in checking. Right?

Bare. Empty. Any trance of anybody living in this room had been completely erased. It's hard to believe two people I held so dearly to my heart lived here. The once painted black walls which were covered with the typical posters of any rebellious teenager are now newly painted white, hiding all the scratches or chips that were previously there. I kind of glad about the change of walls, in my opinion, once you reach the age of 30 it's maybe time to let go of your rebellion.

All that is left is a set of drawers, a double mattress on the floor with no covers and a small single mattress on the other side of the room. Moving over to the dust-ridden drawers, I pulled open the first one and to no avail, it's completely empty. What was I expecting? She's been gone for years and she was never coming back. Especially not now.

It might sound dumb but every night after she left, I would leave her bedroom light on hoping that it would encourage her to come back home. But she never did. Mom eventually got annoyed about finding me asleep outside of Ally's bedroom door every night and had to have a word with me. Sure I stopped leaving a light on for her, but that didn't mean that I missed her any less.

Without Ally being around I had to step up and fill in the gap that she had left in our family. Ally was always the hardass. The tough one. If you were in a fight you'd want Ally in your corner. Despite anything that she says, she did love her family at one point. She was always on our side. In our corner.

Then one moment that all changed. We had a new addition to the family.

Little DeeDee.

DeeDee, my sweet little niece. Such a sweet kid, not a bad bone in her body. It's almost hard to believe that she's my sister's daughter. What they lacked in a shared personality they make up for in identical looks, they look the spits of each other, a true carbon copy.

When my sister found out she was pregnant she ran away. Telling not a soul why. Except for me.

I found out on my own, we have always told her to clean up after her self or something might happen. Well hi, I'm that something. She never kept me updated through the duration of her pregnancy, not like I expected her too, she just up and left. Until DeeDee turned 3. It's only been a year since she came home and she's was more disconnected than ever, especially with mom.

The rattle of an all too familiar engine interrupts my conversation with mom. Giving each other a knowing look with flickers of uncertainty as though maybe we heard wrong.

We didn't hear wrong.

The pounding of her heavy-duty boots slapping against the hardwood floor, echoing through the entire house. The house was so silent you could probably hear a pin drop.

Mom went to 'greet' her first, myself in tail, just in case this all goes south which it most likely will. We haven't seen or even heard from her for well over 3 years now, it got to the point where we all just assumed that she was never coming back. It explains the shock towards her arrival. Well, half of her arrival.

"Ally... your home," mom squeaks out unable to hide the overwhelming shock in her voice. It's awkward, so awkward that it makes me want to itch. The passing eye contact between one another speaks more than their unspoken words. 

The reunion of a mother and her absent daughter.

The shock must have gotten to mom's head because she failed to notice the new soul in the room with us. A person we have never had the pleasure to meet. Standing behind her mother, not tall enough to reach her hip yet, is a little girl. All wrapped in a cosy jacket despite the Atlanta heat is the reason why I haven't seen my sister in 3 years.

Moving forward to where Ally can fully see me, making brief eye contact before kneeling down before the little girl. Hands tugging tightly on her mother's leg as she hides her face from mine. It's understandable, I'm an unknown face, so I decided to introduce myself, "Hello," I said gentle, just looking at the innocent girl softly not wanting to overstep my boundaries, "I'm Macy."

I'm oblivious to my surroundings, so much so that I didn't hear the stampede of feet rocketing down the stairs. The only thing I'm focusing on is this little girl. She just looks at me in what I'm assuming is confusion because she's never seen me before and I her. It's new for all of us.

"What's your name?"

I honestly didn't expect an answer, she looked like such a delicate flower, but a genuine smile covered my face when she said "Lydia" in the quietest voice I've ever heard.

"Nice to meet you, Lydia," I say as I reached my hand forward for her to take in her own, and she did. Slowly but surely her hand was in mine, her tiny hand. Smiling softly at Lydia hoping to have her mirror my actions, she does, but it's short-lived as I'm sucked back into the reality that is the rest of my family.

"So you run off, get knocked up and have the audacity to come back here 3 years later begging for a place to stay," laughed Cora at the mentality of her older sister. I can't help but shake my head as I let go of Lydia's hand, her smile falling behind my back, "Cora, she had a kid," I said to my sister hoping to get her to understand, but it seems as though I don't understand either.

"Oh no the kid can stay, but her," she laughed at the thought, "no chance, not again," shaking her head at the idea of us welcoming Ally back into our home, into our family again. Cora is strong-minded, no doubt about it, but when it comes to her family, if anyone stands in between them and happiness, even if it's our family themselves, they best hope they don't cross Cora. 

Cora and Ally have never gotten along. I've always blamed it on the fact that they are too much alike. Cora may be extremely vocal about everything, but Ally is too, just minus the vocal part. You can tell a lot about Ally and how she's feeling just by looking at her. And right now she looks vulnerable. She has a child and I don't know where she has been staying for the last few years but right now she's homeless and what type of family would we be if we shunned out our own.

A terrible one that's what.

"Corrina, if she wants to stay she can stay. If she wants to go she can go. This is just as much her home as it is yours," mom ushered out all in one breath, still baffled that her daughter and newly found granddaughter are standing before her.

I really feel for our mother, ever since Ally vanished she hasn't been the same. It was a drastic change, not enough for the people she sees on her daily shop, but us, her family have noticed that a little light behind our mother's eyes has been duller than usual. Looking at her right now, the light is still flickering but instead with hope. Hope at a new beginning with her daughter and her granddaughter.

"If you ever leave my mother like that again, after everything she has done for us, especially you, it'll be the last thing you do," threatens Cora, never breaking her eyes from Ally who is doing the same.

Coming back to her senses, Ally snaps out of the trance that is Cora's eyes, clicking her fingers like a royal pain in the ass, "Lydia, come," she orders the little girl as she readies herself for the March up the stairs.

Noticing that her mother is no longer standing in front of her, hiding her from the picture that is her family, she rushes to her mother not before looking at me though and I can't help but feel bad, "Lydia if you want you can stay down here, I can make you something to eat," I said trying my best to convince the little girl that she doesn't have to do everything her mother says, but little Lydia shakes her head in rejection. 

Maybe it's because she genuinely just wants to stay with her mom in a foreign place or it could be that her mom is staring at her, as though waiting for Lydia to make the wrong choice. P.S I'm the wrong choice in this situation, according to her.

Stomping her away up the stairs like an angry teenager, she leaves her daughter behind assuming that she will just follow her like a helpless puppy. Unable to hide my pity for the little girl, I attempt to cheer her up a bit, "see you soon DeeDee," I promised as a subtle smile appeared on the 3-year-olds face before running after her mother's tail.

The hallway is left in silence, not an awkward silence but just a thoughtful one. The same thoughts and feelings are running through all our minds; Ally's back, with a child. She was bad enough on her own, but now with a daughter, I fear not only for us but for that little girl.

Rubbing my eyes, as the only thought that is running through my mind behind 'this is not my fault', 'there was nothing I could have done to make her stay', no matter what, if she left for a reason or not, I just hope she keeps DeeDee safe because God knows she never done that when she was here anyway.

Just as I  had enough of the energy to leave he room, a pile of papers tucked under Ally's mattress caught my attention. Behind down to pull them out, I'm shocked at what she had hidden. It as a collection of loose picture. My curiosity getting the better of me, I start to flick through them, she not here to tell me otherwise.

There are ones from her senior year of high school and her only 2 friends, who I've only had the pleasure of meeting once. On was called Barrett from what I remember, I don't remember the other name, all I know is that the unknown friend mysteriously disappeared a few years after they left high school.

The rest of the picture where weird but oddly boring, snaps of her smoking and drinking, kicking a few gravestones, y'know typical Ally behaviour. It's the last picture that struck me, made my blood run cold but in a comforting way. It's a picture of Ally and I for that time I shaved my head. I briefly remember mom taking it after me begging for hours, trying to convince her and Ally that this was a moment the was worth capturing. 

There I stood, tall and proud, both hands on my head with a cheeky grin plastering on my beetroot face, my eyes holding a sheen of water from laughing. It's a contrasting picture. Ally slouched beside me, well a wingspan away from me, because I'm was an embarrassment to her. Her eyes deadly staring into the camera, making no effort to show any emotion.

I remember being disappointed with her lack of effort in the picture, but looking at it now it's perfect. It really shows how we were and are. I always wondered where this picture went. Mom got it reluctantly developed for me and even framed it for my bedside table. I only had it for a few days before it went missing. At first, I blamed mom, believe she wanted to erase the memory from her brain, but all this time Ally had it, and that oddly warms my heart. Sure it was hidden under her bed, but she still had it and kept it. Now I'm deciding to take it back because if the world continues the way it going, I don't know when the next time I'll see my sister will be.

"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" the sudden voice breaking through the air causing me to jump, and I spin around to find Cora leaning on the door frame, looking around the room in wonder just as I had moments before.

"If you asked me a week ago I would have said yes," I replied looking down at the picture in my hand before folding it and putting it into my back pocket, "Now I don't know."

The thought of Ally coming home was always a distant one. I wanted to believe that the day would come where she would be back and our family would be whole again. That was when the world was normal and even then she still showed no signs of ever coming back.

It seems to me as though the world as we know it is changing, coming to an end if you will. The though of Ally coming home was a longshot before but now more than ever.

A redneck just apparently saved my mom life for crying out loud and now I'm having to drive with said redneck to find his brother.

The worlds went mad.

It's changed and I don't know if I like it.

But it seems like I have no choice.

And thats chapter two done. Its going to be an interesting ride thats for sure. 

You got to learn some more about Ally and we also met the lovely man that it Merle Dixon.

If you want to be tagged when I post for this AU just ask and I will for sure do that.

But anyways, yeah, I hope you liked it.

DAISY.

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead AU

‘You have to trust that every friendship has no end, that a communion of saints exists among all those, living and dead, who have truly loved God and one another.

You know from experience how real this is. Those you have loved deeply and who have died live on in you, not just as memories but as real presences.’

HENRI NOUWEN

                         The Walking Dead.

        Season 1-?

                                         FEM OC! and ?

This is the prologue for a Walking dead AU that I wrote ages ago, and I feel like its too good to waste. So here it is :))

‘Now to John, who's live at the scene. John, what's happening there?'

'I'm here at Central Atlanta Hospital where there has been a reported disturbance within the wards. Patients allegedly have gone rogue, biting and scratching the doctors and each other.'

'If we pan to our left here, you can see the hallways are overflowing with newly found patients from the attacks.'

Glancing up at the ancient box TV perched in the top corner of the room, eyebrows frowned as I take another bite of my bland chicken sandwich.

The screen displays a lit yellow Hospital hallway with beds and chairs cluttering the space. With no room to breathe, the patients packed together like a tin of sardines.

The camera zooms into one patient in particular, who judging by their attire is a nurse themselves. A sickly colour of unnatural grey washed over their face, a layer of sweat glistening under the cheap lights and her veins protruding from her neck as though she's struggling to keep herself calm.

'Miss, would you be able to explain how your feeling?'

I can't help but scoff at the reporter's request. She is clearly in no condition to answer any of his questions and it's downright ignorant to shove a microphone in the face of a woman who has clearly seen better days.

The women slowly turned to face the reporter, her eyes appearing to lack any colour with bags drooping down to her jaw, and glares with all she can muster. Despite clearly being exhausted from whatever is happening to her body, she has no problem expressing her aggravation towards the man.

'Not responsive I see. Well no mind, as the viewers at home can see, Central Hospital is in desperate need of doctors and nurses. So I'm here to announce that if there is anyone-'

I don't know how to describe what I just saw. Just know that it was revolting enough to put me off chicken sandwiches forever.

In the midst of the reporter's announcement, a pair of hands slowly made their way around his body. Their nails were bitten down to stumps, their fingers a troubled colour of blue as though clogged with blood. The sickly hands, lazily but purposefully, claw at the reports button-up shirt from behind. Tugging on the attachments like grips, the women who the reporter was previously questioning is now sinking her teeth into the man's neck. Trails of blood dripping from her lips as she pulls her jaw roughly away from his neck taking a clump of him with her.

The look of pure horror wash over the man's faces, and mines in probably mimicking his. I've never seen anyone's eyes pop so far from their head. The face of sheer panic and terror covering his visuals as he opens his mouth to let out what I can only assume to be a deafening scream but before a sound is made the camera quickly cuts back to the studio, where the two anchors are now shaking at the sight they just witnessed live.

'We'll be back after this quick intermission,' squeaked out the anchor, eyes still wide, never leaving the screen off camera.

'Were you recently involved in an accident?',  the convenient ad was interrupted by the television being turned off. Snapping my head to my right, only to be met by the sheepish face of Darcy, the department receptionist. Smiling weakly at me from her desk, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about. "Were we just watching the same clip," I breathe baffled at the idea of not worrying about what we just witnessed, "That man just had his neck bitten into but some Wednesday Adams looking women," I laughed, struggling myself to understand what just happened.

"I'm sure he's fine," she waves her hand in my direction before quickly standing up as I did seconds before, " What are you doing?" She questions as I grab my hat off my peg.

Rolling my eyes as I make the reach for my keys, "My job," my fingers scraping the keys before they are snatched out of my reach. Looking up at the elderly women with bored eyes, I hold my hands out waiting for her to cave.

"No, half the department is already helping the city, we need you here in Kings County," she argues quickly running back to her desk, sliding into her roller chair. Out of my vision but not hearing, I hear the clashing of keys, the slamming of metal and the sound of a lock.

She locked my keys in her desk.

"Darcy- " I begin only to be interrupted.

"No" she heaves, hands crossed over her chest tightly, "It's bad enough those two are God knows where doing God knows what, I can't allow the only deputy left in the building to leave."

I would be annoyed and honestly, I am, the woman isn't not letting me do my job, but with just a simple look in her eyes I can see why she doesn't want me to leave, "You're scared," I point out pulling my chair over to the front of her desk, sitting my hat on the table.

Refusing to meet my eyes answered my assumption. She was scared and she had every right to be. What we just watched on the news isn't normal but it's not the first we've heard of this 'infection'. It's been going on for weeks, especially in the city. Residents reporting sights of people staggering through the streets, grabbing and biting anything they can get their hands on. Honestly sounds like a typical weekend in the city in my opinion, after a couple of drinks, you'd be surprised what some people turn into. I haven't seen any of these things personally but that news clip just made everything people have been bustling about all too real.

"These things are apparently migrating. It's not just a city virus, they're making their away out into places like this," her hands brushing the nonexistent lint off the top of my hat, her voice so soft, if you didn't listen closely enough you'd miss it.

"I'm not going to fill you with false hope because honestly, I have no idea what is happening but I will say this if I know you at all, something like a little virus isn't going to be the end to the bombshell that is Darcy Peters."

A small smile begins to creep onto her face, "You should have seen me in my youth," flipping her white shoulder-length hair.  Shaking my head with a giggle, I lean over her desk and turn her desktop towards me looking at the set back of work left for her to complete. Moving the mouse to the bottom of the screen I log her off, " Take the rest of the day off."

Knowing fine well she would say no, I left her no room for arguments as I hastily grabbed her coat passing it to her, "Don't tell me no Peters, Deputies orders," I said with authority behind my voice but eventually broke out into a smile at the delightful women before me.

"But what about-" she points at the computer addressing the work she still had to do. Grabbing the women's hands as I begin to drag her out the door, "Don't worry I'll handle it but you need to go home and chill out," snatching her car keys as I begin walking with her hand in hand to her beloved mustard Ford Fiesta.

Opening the driver's door, "M'lady," I bow holding the door. Shaking her head at my act, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, brings me in for a hug, slightly shocked but I hug her back none less, "Thank you, Macy," she laughs in my ear before pulling away, cupping my face like an affectionate grandmother.

Slapping my cheeks lightly she points her finger timidly at my face, "Now no running off play superhero, you're needed here," her eyes never leaving mine as though to challenge me to say otherwise. Well, I like a challenge, "No promises."

A dead look in her eyes causes me to laugh once more, "Okay, I promise I won't run off, I'll stay put. Now beat it, tell Richard I say hi," closing the door behind the women before stepping away from her car.

Just before she was about to drive off, she rolls down her window, "Oh before I forget, here's the key to the desk. Also there's something for Officer Friendly in there you won't miss it," see spoke throwing the flimsy key my way. Nodding my head towards the women, I mockingly salute her off, catching a glimpse of her rolling her eyes smiling.

Tossing the small, rusted key between my hands, I make my way back to Darcy's desk. After a couple of shakes and jiggles, the lock to the drawer eventually clicks. Pulling open the drawer, I grab my car keys stuffing them in my back pocket. That's when my eyes catch a shine reflecting out of the space. Reaching my hand in my finger brush across metal embroidery.

A Sheriff badge.

Unable to help the smile that made its way to my face as I stare down at the achievement of my friend. 'Officer Friendly's going to flip. So will someone else but for a different reason.' Shaking the thought from my head, I quickly run round to the desk of the newly found Sheriff. Going to place the shining badge on the desk, a note stops me;

Gone for a quick lapse of the county. If I'm not back by finish, I'll see you tomorrow, Officer Friendly.

Still sitting the badge on his desk, hoping that he at least makes it back in an hour, his face will be priceless. Snatching the remote from the floor, I flick the television back on, wanting to see if there are any updates on the situation.

'Government officials have requested that everyone stays inside their homes, only leaving unless extremely necessary. Until this is contained, please be cautious. This has been channel 5's news.'

Drowning out the rambling of the adverts, I absorb myself I'm my phone. 7 texts, damn I'm popular.

From Corey. Hey, can you drop me off :) Sent 07:39

From Corey. Oft okay never mind then I know I broke 3 of your car window, but that doesn't forbid access does it?? Fine two can play at that game, I'll walk. Ummmm that's when you're supposed to be the super big sister and say 'no sweet little sister, don't walk and ruin your BRAND NEW BOOTS, I'll happily drop you off' Boo you, you suck :(( Sent at 07:57

From Corey. Hey, can you pick me up ;) Sent at 17:12

This girl, I swear.

To Corey. I'll think about it :)) Sent Now.

Collecting my things, preparing myself for my leave. All too quickly trying to rush out the door, I skid to a halt and turn round to a certain desk in particular. Contemplating my options, I decided to take the newly found badge with me. For one; it is past shift time and I really want to witness his face when he gets promoted.' I'll just give it to him tomorrow when everyone's here', I thought.

Now I'm well aware that my car isn't exactly the best site for sore eyes, I'll be the first to admit that, but it was my dream car and it was the first real big purchase I ever made as an adult. My glorious, yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She's seen better days that for sure, but she means a lot to me and a couple of bumps and scratches isn't going to make me trade her in. Ever.

I grew up in Mormont, Georgia. A small county that no one has heard of and when people ask where I'm from I'm always met with the same look. In Mormont everybody knows everybody. It's a tight-knit community with no secrets. When word got out the resident widow had adopted 3 girls from the now shut down orphanage, the community was sent into a frenzy.

The same woman who was framed for burning down her old farmhouse that her husband happened to be still asleep in, was now going to be a mother of 3 very different daughters.

Without my mom I wouldn't even be here today, I would be how I am today. Mom adopted me when I was 4 years old, and even at a young age, I know that something about me was different from the other kids at kindergarten. Kids would come and leave joyfully holding the hands of their parents whitest they rambled on about what we did that day. I would leave on a bus with a woman who didn't really care enough to remember my name, looking after me in the centre was just a 9 to 5 for her and she got to go home to her family without a care in the world. I will never forget the day I was called down to the main office.

Believing that I had done something wrong, I reluctantly climbed down the creaking bunk beds steps. Looking around the room, I'm met with many stares, some glaring, some shaking their heads. I was in a room surround by judgemental toddlers.

I've never been called down to the office before. I've seen others been called down and they never come back. Tommy told me that Glenda, the houses mistress, feeds them to the two-headed man in the attic. I never believed him, knowing that he only wanted to scare me but now I'm not so sure. 'I don't want to be eaten', I thought.

One step at a time, I slowly make my way down the wooden steps that despite my lightweight still shriek under my shoes. Before I reach the bottom of the stairs, I'm met by the glorious Glenda. Her lopsided, spectacles clawed eyes boring down at me, 'Come,' she said before spinning around and heading to the room she just walked out from, 'There's someone here to see you."

'Someones here to see me? But I don't know anybody' I thought to myself as I follow behind the women with a newfound spring in my step.

"Mason this is Charlotte, she'd like to adopt you."

I guess you could say that's when I knew. When I first land my eyes on hers, I felt something that then in my short 4 years of life had never felt before, safe. Fast forward 22 years and that feeling had never left. Like the light of an eternal flame, that shine behind my mom's eyes never left, never even flickered. It's a constant reminder, I knew it when I was 4 years old and I still know it now at 26, that home isn't found in a physical building but instead found in those you surround yourself with.

No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to fully express my gratitude towards my mother. She gave me a chance and took me into her home with open arms. She says 'Thats what mothers do' and that might be true but she didn't have too. That's just the type of person she is. A heart of gold, a heart that is far too big for this world. She might not be my birth mother but in my opinion no one could do better, I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve the right to call her my mother, all I know is that I'm forever thankful for that.

Cora, or Corey, my sweet baby sister. The best way to describe her would be prissy. A real drama queen but strong-minded. When it comes to Corey no mountain is too high. Basically it's Corey's world and we're all just live in it. I take deep pride in telling her that she was an ugly baby and I'm not telling any lies. One look at her baby pictures sends a shiver down your spine.

She's your basic stressed college student who believes that the world will end if she fails to hand in one essay on time, but has no problem with partying the night before a big exam. Beginning to understand what type of person Corey is?

Then there's Ally. The big sister, my big sister. I remember growing up and always wanting to be like her when I grew up, I thought she was the coolest person in the world. She shaved off her hair when she was 18 and me and my 8-year-old self desired to do the same. Mom was mortified and kids at school did laugh at me for a while but I didn't care, I wanted to be like my sister, buzz cut and all.

As I grew up however I realised something, Ally had a darkness inside her. When I was younger I never noticed, I always saw her acts for rebellion as inspiration for my own mischief but as I got older and matured, she never. She always stayed the same. It some cases that's a good thing if you're a good person that is. I never believed my sister to be a bad person, more troubled than anything. I think why you get to the age of 36 and still rebel against your mother like an edgy teenager somethings not right.

Ally thinks the world is constantly against her, that the whole world is testing her, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I was the first to know she was pregnant, she didn't tell me herself but the positive stick sitting in the bathroom bunker was a big give away. I've seen her anger a handful of times and more often than not it consumes her, her anger is her own worse enemy and that day I meet the worst of it. There was a lot of screaming and hitting, and things being thrown in my direction. Luckily enough no one else was home when all this happened, but it was quite hard to explain why I had a black eye and Ally had burst knuckles. I lied, that's what I did.

'I got jumped,' it was the best I could come up with at the time. I made up a story of me being mugged and Ally saving the day. Mom barked up a storm, ask question after question, and I was slowly running out of ideas for my action sequence. That was until Ally spoke up,

'I'm going away for a while,' she said placing her fork down on her barely touched the plate, 'Work,' she replied to the looks that were sent her way. I refused to meet her eyes but I knew fine well that she was staring at me in particular, that didn't stop me from listening though.

'Oh, well for how long?,' Mom asked swirling around her glass of wine, 'A couple of months.'

'And what work relate thing causes you to be away for a couple of months?' Corey spoke up, her eyes never leaving Ally's as though to challenge her, 'The companies looking for a new manager, I thought I would try and run for it. It is more money,' she spoke trying to convince not only Cora but our reluctant mother too. Reluctant and our mom isn't two words that I would put together, she's a keen believer of 'if you want it, go and get it', but not when it comes to Ally.

'It seems like a good opportunity,' mother said honestly, nodding her head at her oldest daughter, 'seems like bullshit,' I muttered under my breath causing my mom to kick my shin from under the table, only to be faced with the stern stare of my mom.

'Language Mason' sternly spoke our mom making Cora laugh slightly at the use of my full real name.

'I'm just saying, she seems to go on a lot of these trips and comes back empty-handed every time, sorry for having some doubt.'

'That's enough Cora,' Mom said not breaking eye contact with her youngest who is sitting across the dinner table from her, 'yeah whatever, can I be excused?' Before she could get an answer she was already on her feet marching out the room.

Nodding sadly, mom looked around the table at the remaining 2, 'Macy, darling,  you've barely touched your dinner.'

Meeting her eyes, 'I had a big lunch,' the lies pouring out my mouth at this point.

The rest of the dinner that night was filled with awkward silence. The sound of the chair next to me scraping against the old hardwood floor breaks my concentrated gaze on my plate. Ally's hard duty boots marching out of the room and storming up the stairs.

My mom let out a sigh and placed her fork on her now empty plate, looking up at the only remaining daughter at the table. Flashing my mom a small smile, taking a sip of my now lukewarm water, "You make good spaghetti mom"

"Go check on her for me please," she practical begged, her voice suggesting nothing but defeat, "She never talks to me anymore."

'I'm probably the last person she wants to see," is what I wanted to say to my mom, but looking at my mother with her head in her hands at the thought of my troubled older sister broke my heart.

Before taking the dreaded walk up the stairs and to the door at the end of the hall, I placed a hand on my mom's shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.

'Everything will be okay.' I thought to myself.

Knocking on the door, only to receive no reply, 'I know you're in there,' I said continuously knocking on the oak door. Getting bored with being ignored, I did the brave and open the forbidden door, Ally's bedroom door.

Ally's bedroom is something, I don't know what that something is but it screams Ally. It's dishevelled yet bland, perfect for Ally I guess. Nothing but a set of drawers with half the handles missing, piles of dirty washing sitting in the corner of her room that will probably stay there for weeks, and a chipped dark wood bed. And then there's Ally, who is currently packing a bag.

'There is no business trip is there?' I asked even though I fine well knew the answer already. Throwing the last of her clothes in the bag, she stares me dead in the eye from her position at the bottom of her bed, 'I have to get out of here.'

Walking further into her room as she walks back to her drawers closing them loudly, 'Promise me one thing,' I asked looking out the window at the deserted street. Hearing no noise for behind me I continued, 'That we'll get to meet them one day,'

'I can't promise you that,' turning round to stare at her in confusion, 'what you're never coming back?' I asked softly shaking my head at the idea of her leave and never returning. Ally goes away a lot but she always comes back. We might not be as close as we use to be when I was younger but it's a comfort to know that she's here with us.

She just looked at me not speaking yet her glances spoke a thousand words. I didn't know silence could get any quieter but I was proven wrong in that moment. It was as though the whole world stopped spinning, it was like the world ended right and then. Shaking my head at my sister mentality, my heartbreaking even at the thought of what she wanted to do, 'Oh,' was the only response I muster up as I move to sit at the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly feeling like jello.

Rubbing my hands over my eyes and tugging at my hair, trying to get all my thoughts to settle down. The feel of a hand softly holding my shoulder caught my attention. Looking down at me was my sister, my big sister, that I wanted with every fibre of my being to be like when I grew up. But people change, and Ally surely did. That moment made me realise something, Ally never changed. No, she was always the same. It was me who changed, I was just too young to realise.

The day that Ally left, a part of myself left with her, and that necessarily wasn't a bad thing. No, she took the naive part with her. The sense that everything was okay now, that everything was perfect now because I had a family. Sometimes families go through rough patches and for some reason ours was never-ending.

Shaking my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts, focussing once more on my journey home. I love county lanes, there the best to drive on. You can go as fast as you want and when you go over a little hill you get those silly butterflies in the pit of your stomach. My family hates driving with me on these roads. Apparently I'm too careless when it comes to driving, I argue that I'm not careless I'm just used to acting like I'm in the Fast and Furious movies.

Speaking of radical driving, I hit the breaks slowly once I spot what's up ahead. A car parked sporadically in the middle of the lane, but that's not what's got me confused. There are people, a headcount of about ten, all banging their hands lazily on the windows of the car, smearing their faces over the glass.

Cutting the engine, leaning over to the car pocket reaching for my emergency gun, I slowly stalk my way out of the car. Holding the gun with both hands at the ground, the safety still on as I make my way closer but not too close.

"Hey, what are you guys doing, what's the problem-" my voice slowly losing its confidence as the figures around the car turn to face me and begin to walk drunkenly towards me. The noise they make doesn't sound too good, the air now filled with grunts and groans, the sounds of pain. I noticed a couple not paying me any mind, to busy eating something. Oh.

Realising exactly what I'm witnessing. Those are the sick people that has the world on edge. A group of them a coming right towards me. Raising my gun and flipping the safety off, I take aim, "Don't come any closer, I'll shoot," I announce not really wanting to have to shoot them. I might as well not have spoken, they just keep pushing, stumbling over one another as they inch closer.

Lining up, setting my sights on one, in particular, a middle-aged man, a civilian, I shoot one shot into his left leg. Nothing. A slight knockback at most but he's still alive. Trying again, I aim for his chest and the same happened again. Lastly shooting the head, that's what does it. He's down.

That one alone took up to much time, I have another 8 headed my way and I only have a limited amount of bullets. The odds were not in my favour, that much was clear. Making a dash for my car, hastily ripping my keys from my pocket. Silence.

"Come on don't fail me now!" I said through gritted teeth. Shoving the keys into the engine once more and twisting. Sounds of my struggle echo throughout the car as I feel the nonexistent sweat beginning to build as my breath becomes hot with frustration. Now as good a point as any to point out that I have 3 broken windows, no thanks to Cora. Not broken as in they don't go down, oh no, they don't go up. I mean how one single girl breaks 3 windows is beyond me. Honestly, it didn't bother me that much to begin with, it gives my car character. Right now though it's a different story.

If my internal panic with my car not starts wasn't enough, then maybe those things reaching their grimy hands in my car are. Before I knew it my car was surrounded by the creatures, some toppling over the bonnet of my car, others pushing their hands through my half-cracked down windows. I feel the lazy touch of the fingers brushing against my shoulders and hair causing my entire body to shiver.

"Please" I beg over the sounds of the deathly groans and screams. Turning the key again with my sweaty hands, my body shaking in fear of what's to come. As though Jumpstarted, my car roars to life. The sound of my own engine has never sounded so delightful and I should honestly appreciate it more.

Not caring for speed limits, I push the pedal to the metal. The shrieking of my tires scraping on the hard concrete leaving evidence of my wheels spinning. Pushing through the moss pit of things before my car wasn't as hard as it sounds, even though they look like dead weight, they are quite easy to redirect.

Speeding my car a distance away for the scene, next to the car they were previously attacking, before I slow to a stop again, looking in my rearview mirror. They're following me. Looking to my left, I see the beaten car. Curdling blood dripping from the passenger seat window with loose pieces of straggling hair stuck to the wing mirror. Leaning over slightly I see a few fingers laying on the ground. Holding back my gag, I look back up into the car, only to be met with a figure. A hard to distinguish figure. Completely devoured and unrecognisable. Those rabid animals shredded these poor souls face to shreds with any features now ruined.

Shaking my head at the sounds of the things coming closer to my car again, I slowing start moving, only to hit the breaks instantly as a thought came to my head. Looking in my rearview mirror again at the car, tears begin to build in my eyes. A mustard Ford Fiesta. That's the car. That's her car. My cheeks slightly soaked, my hands shaking once again as I roughly grab the roots of my hair. Having enough, I swat away the tears that are trailing down my cheeks, nose scrunched up as I try my hardest not to look back again. I didn't.

Driving down that road, the road that usually fills me with overwhelming joy, felt different this time around. It felt darker. The road that I knew ultimately leads me to home is beginning to feel like a drag. It's a road that I never want to drive down again because the only thought that I can think of now is: it's my fault.

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead || MASTERPOST

PROLOGUE

SEASON 1: CHAPTER ONE, TWO,