Broken (A Walking Dead/Daryl fanfiction)

Chapter One- Now

I stuck the shovel in the ground again and again. A pile of dirt grew to my left, and I didn't stop until I knew I wouldn't be able to get out if I continued. I pushed the shovel in the ground and used it as a sort of step stool, reaching out of the hole and grabbing the tool after me. The wind blew the sheet off my best friend slightly, and I shivered. Her nails were black, her skin turning to a sick pale. I fought back the urge to throw up what little food I had eaten. I sighed and lifted her legs, dragging her to the edge of the body sized hole. The top of the sheet was red from the wound in her head.

"I'm alone now. How dare you leave me alone. You knew I lost everyone. My mother, my sister...even my shit head of a father." I looked at my feet, thinking hard. I gave out a yell that shook my body and hurt my throat, and kicked the remain's of my companion. She fell in the hole, making a sickening crunch as she landed on the bottom. The walkers growled against the fence a little louder. I breathed in heavily for a few seconds before I began heaving the dirt pile back into the ground.

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I finished the last of it, my shirt wet with sweat and my head drenched. I whipped off my shirt and wiped my forehead and neck with it. I only had my bra on, but I didn't really care what the walkers saw. There wasn't anyone else around to look. I picked up the shovel and the rifle I brought out with me and headed back for the prison, my shirt tossed over my shoulder. Lara and I had found this place a little while back. It took us forever to clear the walkers out, but it was worth it. The food supply we found was enough to keep us running for months if we rationed it correctly. I figured if we found some kind of farm store or something we could start a garden, but everything I touch tends to die nowadays. We kept a few guns outside in case of an emergency, and I was glad for it. A walker found the opening we cut to get in here, though we tied it up, and made its way across the courtyard. We were inside and didn't see it. Lara wanted some air...and I heard her scream. She didn't see it coming. Didn't know the danger just on the other side of the door.

She begged me to shoot her before she turned. I cried, but I did it. I had no choice; it was her dying wish. I decided to bury her next to her brother, who we found shot dead in the compound when we arrived. He was sentenced for murder, though she tells me he didn't commit it. I was skeptical, but I didn't argue with her. She wanted to bury him, even though he was rotting and made me want to throw up. Bitch always got what she wanted.

So now I was alone. Of course I had my two dogs, but no matter how hard I tried they couldn't talk. I figured, hey, if zombies were real, maybe dogs could talk. 

I hear a gunshot ring out behind me. I look up and turn around to face the field. I was almost at the gate, and was tempted to just go inside, but then I see figures come out of the forest to the right of the entrance, running. Walkers don't run unless there's food. These were people, breathing, thinking, people. I turn around to the gate that leads into the prison yard. My dogs sit there, silently wagging their tails. I think about leaving the small group out there and returning to the safety of the concrete prison to live out the rest of my days alone with my dogs. Like a post-apocalyptic spinster. But a voice at the back of my head made me think again. 

Maybe you don't have to be alone. 

The tiny sliver of hope had been enough to make me drop the shovel and turn around to sprint back down the field towards the gate, swinging the rifle off my shoulder as I run. The figures are closer now, and I confirm that these are, in fact, living people.  I reach the end of the gate quick enough, and see even more people than I thought. I was easily outnumbered, very easily, but I raised my gun anyway. The group was clearly in panic mode. They huddled together as they made their way down the road. As they came closer I could see how thin and sickly they all looked. I counted 8 people, including a kid. As they approach the fence, they finally see me, and a few raised their guns.