"The looters hit the pharmacies first, then gun shops, then liquor stores. The less you go out, the less chance you get exposed." -Tobias; Fear the Walking Dead

When Charlotte first heard news of the virus, she had been in Virginia, visiting family. She didn't think too much of it; hell, she thought it'd blow over in a couple weeks. The way it was being described made people believe it was just some cold, something that could be handled with some medicine you'd get at a pharmacy. But then it started changing. The news started saying that whoever contracted the virus would die—it was unavoidable. Specialists who would work with diseases and other illnesses refused to release any information; the people started panicking.

But then the news started getting weirder. The people who were supposedly "dead" suddenly weren't. They were coming back and they were violent. News of cannibalization spread quickly, and soon there was a nationwide panic.

The virus had spread quickly, hitting big cities the hardest. Alerts were being sent out, telling anyone who was listening to go to a designated safe-zone or, if they were near big cities that seemed unaffected, to go there.

The military showed up.

Not even that worked.

In the end, those who were confined to the big cities didn't last long. Those who were in the mercy of the military were left for dead. The soldiers ended up abandoning them.

Power had gone out, the radios stopped broadcasting. Everyone was isolated. They were alone.

Then the second wave of panic hit. Whatever hadn't been looted the first time around was hit again. Houses were broken into; people—families—were torn apart or turned on each other.

That was when everything had really gone to hell.

—Us Against the World—

Charlotte let out a sigh. She looked around, squinting against the sun overhead. She'd been walking for hours, hoping she'd come across something, but she hadn't. Any cars she saw were so overheated by the sun they were useless; the batteries were fried or dead; there was no gas in it; it was infested with rotters—the list went on. She hit all the small towns she came across, getting all the necessary materials she'd need, but that didn't mean it was easy. Charlotte had to keep an eye out for rotters and survivors.

The dead, sure, they could be avoided or killed.

Survivors on the other hand weren't so simple. They'd do anything to get what they think belongs to them. The living were just as dangerous as the dead.

Charlotte let out another sigh. At this point in her journey, after so much time had passed, she wasn't really sure where she was. She'd been visiting her family in Virginia when news of the virus broke out; that only lasted two weeks. At the time, Charlotte lived in Tennessee with her boyfriend, Gavin. When time came for Charlotte to go back home, her mother, Alondra, was worried.

"What if you get infected?" Alondra had exclaimed.

"Ma, I'll be fine." That had been what Charlotte told her mother for the remainder of her stay. I'll be fine.

Swallowing thickly, Charlotte looked down. She tried forcing the thought from her mind. That had been the last time she saw her family before things went to hell. Were they alive? Had they turned? She should've called them before the power went out.

Shaking her head, Charlotte took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had to keep herself clear-minded. Taking in one more breath before letting it out, Charlotte started walking.

—Us Against the World—

Even though memories of before were a reminder of what the world used to be, there was also dangerous factors to it. There was nostalgia; it distracted people, made them vulnerable. People who thrived on their nostalgia were easy targets. Charlotte didn't want to be one of those people. Occasionally she'd have a thought or a memory of before, but she wouldn't dwell on it any longer than necessary. If a rotter showed up and she was too busy thinking about the old world, she'd be dead. If a survivor showed up and she was too busy reminiscing, she'd be dead. Memories were a distraction. Distractions were dangerous.

Instead, Charlotte made herself think up a list of things she needed before the day came to an end. It kept her sane.

Food. Water. Shelter. Weapons. Medicine. There were days where the list had more than just that, but those were still included; they were more important than anything else. Sometimes the small towns had a few of the things on Charlotte's list and it would have to do, other days she couldn't find any of them and it would frustrate her to no end, knowing she wasted an entire day.

Charlotte made sure to avoid big cities, though. While smaller or more average sized towns had a number of rotters in them, the cities had at least double the amount. And since Charlotte was travelling alone, she couldn't afford to go into a city and get bit. She knew that if she gave at least one city a chance, there might be a possibility of finding what she needed, but she just couldn't do it.

You can't risk doing something like that on your own, she'd remind herself. You don't have anyone else with you. Not anymore. Play it safe, but still do what you need to do.

Play it safe, but still do what you need to do.

A deep frown settled on Charlotte's face.

She was trying. She really was.

(A/N):

I don't think this chapter was really good or not, but hopefully you guys found some kind of enjoyment out of it. Let me know what you think, OK?

Sadly, I do not own anything in TWD universe.

The first episode of season 7 comes out today! Maybe we'll know who Negan kills. I'm kind of scared on who it might be, since I don't want any of them to be killed off; but I think it's a tie between Glenn and Abraham. Or, if the producers and/or writers decided to have Negan kill two people, I'm sticking with it being Glenn and Abraham. Only 'cause Abraham's already dead in the comics and (also in the comics, but I know a lot of you already know this) Negan kills Glenn. But that's just me being an overanalyzing nerd.

Leave a thought on anything I can improve on.

Sincerely,

Alek Haydn