Losing sight of someone and not knowing whether or not they were gone hurt more than knowing that they were. When you know they're gone, the grieving period sets in immediately. Whether you know it or not, acknowledging their death is the first step...
AN: I've revised the opening chapters countless times, learning through trial and error which direction to take the story. The first season has been a motivational roadblock, causing writer's block for over a year, but I'm confident this new approach will break through it. This story holds great significance for me, and it's crucial to begin at a point that satisfies me to move forward as desired. Deviating from the script until Jaylyn and Daryl's reunion seems the best course—it frees me from the constraints of the show's plot, allows for a stronger start, and introduces Cooper and Alex much sooner than planned, which is exciting.
Okay that's it, hope you enjoy!
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[ 001. paths of perseverance ]
The abrupt shift in existence brought on by the apocalypse proved too much for some to bear; the sheer number of lives lost overwhelmed them—fear and anger seized the minds of the innocent, morphing them into the very monsters they feared. For others, such as Jaylyn Dixon, the challenge lay not in adapting to the new reality, but in coming to terms with it. At the onset of the outbreak, people diverged onto two paths: some dismissed it as a severe flu variant, neglecting precautions in the belief that a vaccine would resolve the crisis.
Despite the scant information provided by the government, Jaylyn grasped why the public remained unconcerned. They believed that if there were cause for alarm, the authorities would inform them. However, they would soon realize that the authorities were self-serving, leaving them to face terror alone. Regrettably, as Jaylyn loathed to admit, the end of road one was marked by a queue of creepers poised for their next victim.
Road Two signified reality, the survival of the fittest, and the initial step towards thriving in a post-apocalyptic existence. Jaylyn, thanks to her brother, was among those who had a fighting chance. Yet, the day she was torn from Daryl and Merle, she was engulfed by fear. How could she possibly survive without them? Would their paths ever cross again? Nevertheless, she held her head high, for she was a Dixon, and she'd be damned if she didn't survive long enough to confront Merle and declare, "I told you so, I can make it on my own, you jerk." That was the truth; Merle's absence was nothing new. But Daryl was different. He had always been there, guiding her, teaching her the skills that she now relied on. It was his absence that she found most challenging to endure.
"Hey! Ready to head upstream? Got all your gear?" Cooper McKinney located Jaylyn a few days following her brothers' abrupt departure. Perched high in a towering tree, she had escaped a band of creepers too perilous to confront solo. Astride a stout limb, her bag swung below her, secured by a rope. Wary from life's trials, trust didn't come easily, yet reliance on Daryl had been her crutch; now, she pondered if relying on Cooper to bridge the gap was her path back to him—she needed an ally. Cooper wasn't solitary; Alex Moore, a twenty-year-old he'd stumbled upon in a ransacked gas station while foraging, was with him.
She became less guarded around Alex. His proximity in age and his unexpectedly lively disposition made it easier for her to place her trust in him.
Rising from the fallen trunk she had been resting on, Jaylyn slung her bag over her shoulder and secured the hunting knife Daryl had given her the previous Christmas into its sheath at her hip. "Yeah, I'm coming." The sound of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot accompanied her as she approached the men by the stream. Alex, noticing the light beads of sweat on her dirt-streaked forehead, offered her some fresh water. She declined with a shake of her head, "Save it, it's still early, the heat has hardly hit us."
