Authors Note: I'm a 21 year old Aussie kid who adores the Walking Dead and the characters. I have no rights to these characters, Alice is my own creation however the setting and other characters are not my own. This is set somewhere just after the second episode of season 2 of the Walking Dead, I have no rights to the plot line and am not privey to any of the plot lines from here. This is my own work and the journey that these characters go on is my own creation. Most of all this is intended to be a bit of fun, something to keep me distracted and entertained. As always feedback is more than welcome and in fact encouraged. So read, enjoy and hopefully I'll talk to some of you as you read!

CHAPTER ONE

I was sitting on the back porch when Rick came up holding Carl, blood soaked and panting heavily that day. Things changed from there, everything changed, there wasn't really much that was the same about this world any more but I never would have thought that this group of ragtag survivors would ever be sitting in the living room across from me.

"His blood pressure is droppin' again," Hershel looked as exhausted and shattered as Rick did.

"Do it, just do it," Rick exclaimed brandishing his arm towards Hershel, his face was pale as anything and it was taking all of his focus to simply stand in front of the old man.

"You can't afford to be giving more blood Rick, you're already low as it is," Lori was holding onto his arm, fear and stress evident on her face. This whole ordeal looked like it had aged her ten years in ten minutes.

"Drink this," Maggie came out holding a glass of orange juice and forced Rick to drink more than half of the glass before taking him into the other room and sat down with him by Carl's bed.

"Otis knows his way better than anyone around that school, his nieces and nephew went there and he was looking after them for a long time, they should be in and out in no time," Patricia said trying to reassure Lori who was sitting on the couch across from her with her head in her hands staring at her feet. Being Otis' ex-girlfriend Patricia almost had to defend him, though given the recent circumstances I think the two of them will end up dropping the 'ex' pretty soon.

"Alice, sweetie, could you grab Lori a glass of water and an apple that we have in the fridge, please?" Maggie gave me a smile and nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

"Sure," I obediently got up and walked into the kitchen to grab the things she had requested. I hadn't been at Hershel's much longer than a few weeks. Things were strange for me before all of this happened. I only managed to stumble upon this place by chance, though I'm not so sure how I would have gone if I hadn't found Hershel and his family here, they saved my life and I was forever in debt to them for that. Though things had hit a bit of a stalemate since I had gotten here.

"Here you go," I handed Lori the glass of water which she took with a soft 'thank you' and took a sip. I left the apple on the table in front of her. Food was sort of a luxury to most people these days and I could see she didn't want to scoff it all at once.

"They'll be back with them supplies sooner than you know, it's gonna work out just fine," Patricia said as Lori took a bite out of the apple and chewed it slowly.

"I'm real sorry, can you excuse me for a moment," I spoke quietly enough as to not upset anyone and before I got an answer I stood up and headed outside to get a little bit of air.

"Where in good Lords name do you think you're going?" Billy, Hershel's son, was standing at the porch doorway.

"Gettin' some air," I replied without looking at him or even acknowledging he was there.

"Ya can't be out here with all these dang walkers around, c'mon girl, use your brain would ya?" Billy snapped.

"Back off hick, I'm fine, I'll be in soon," and without so much as another word he slammed the front door and went back inside.

"Grumpy son of a..." I never got to finish my insult because the dust kicking up from the front of the driveway caught my attention.

I pushed myself out of the little lounge setting and walked to the edge of the porch. The closer the vehicle got I realized that it was the RV that Rick had told us about, I watched it casually and before long it came to a skidding halt right in front of the house. I leaned against the wooden rail and folded my arms.

"Is this Hershel's farm?" an elderly man stepped out of the front cabin section of the RV and walked over to where I was standing,

"Who are you?" I asked, I knew it was rude to respond to a question with a question but still.

"I'm Dale, this is Glenn," he pointed towards the RV as a small Asian man jumped down and gave me a half hearted nod, "and our friend T-Dog is in the back, he's hurt his arm real bad and he's in desperate need of some antibiotics, he's got a nasty infection," I nodded and watched as Glenn helped the other man painfully from the back of the RV.

"Sure, y'all are friends of Rick and Lori's right? Come in, I'm sure Hershel has some pain killers and stuff inside," I said walking down the steps and over to where Dale was standing.

"Thank you," Glenn half mumbled as he shuffled passed helping T-Dog to walk.

Hershel re-patched T-Dogs bandage, gave him some pretty heavy pain killers and antibiotics and he was sleeping it off on the couch in the main room.

"Weren't there meant to be more of y'all?" I said after everyone had something to drink and were sitting down in the living room.

"There are more of us, normally," Lori said looking to Glenn expectantly.

"Carol's daughter Sophia was lost in the woods," Dale began softly from his position in the arm chair across from me.

"She got chased by a few walkers that passed us by on the highway, Rick went off after her and she ended up wandering off because she was scared or something. That's sort of how we got into this whole mess, Rick, Shane and Carl stayed back to look for her some more and that's when Carl got shot, you know the story from there," Glenn finished, looking over at Dale and then back at the empty glass in his hand.

"I'll get you some more water," Maggie said softly and without a moments' hesitation, gently took Glenn's glass from between his fingertips and headed out of the room. There was something about him, the way his eyes followed her right out of the room and didn't move from the doorway for a good few moments.

"How's Carl doing?" Dale asked after a pause.

"He's stable, for now," came Billy's response from the seat that was sitting at the edge of the doorway leading into Carl's makeshift surgery room.

"He's going to pull through though right?" Glenn asked; his face was full of fear and concern.

"Hershel is a wonderful doctor, he was the best in his field before this mess started," Maggie stated handing Glenn his now full cup back and smiled.

"Yeah, for a veterinarian," came Lori's defeated tone.

"He's a damned good doctor and you should be counting your blessings that your son is here with him and not out there dying in the back of that dang RV," Billy was sort of notorious for being overly protective of his father and his choices.

"Easy Bill," Patricia said holding her hand up to him slightly. He was about to say something more but caught the look in Maggie's eyes and thought better of it.

The rest of the evening was spent playing 'get to know you' with each other, there was a lot that seemed to come out over the course of a few hours, Glenn opened up some about what he used to do before the walkers took over and Dale was telling us about his wife and children back at home. Lori tended to say little and spent a lot of her time tending to both Rick and Carl. Rick had given a lot of blood and was in no fit state to even be talking, yet he was adamant that he would go and help Shane and Otis as soon as he could. Arguments flared up about the sanity of that idea and that was around about the time I decided to take my first watch outside. It was nothing to be freaked out about. Walkers hadn't really infected the farm, except for the odd one or two that had popped up when I first arrived a few weeks back. It was a pretty secluded area and as far as I could see there wasn't much in the way of civilization any closer than maybe five to ten miles away from the farm house.

"So," I heard the familiar creaking of the front door as Dale stepped out onto the porch and took a seat in the arm chair. I had sat myself up onto the railing and positioned myself with my back against one of the posts, my left leg sitting up on the handrail and my right leg dangling over the edge.

"So?" I said quietly giving him a sideways glance and adjusting the sniper rifle I held in my arm.

"You don't say much, I couldn't help but notice that you don't seem like you're from around these parts?" Dale had an interesting way of approaching things. He was softly spoken yet seemed like the kind of person that if he chastised you, you'd feel guilty for months on end. Much like my father had once been like.

"I'm not," I replied gently giving him a slight smile then going back to looking out over the paddocks.

"Where are ya from originally then?" he at least had the decency to wait a few moments before asking.

"I was born down here, moved to Boston when I was eighteen though," I responded searching the darkening yard before me for any signs of movement.

"You're telling me you came all the way out here from Boston?" the disbelief in his voice was enough to tell me what his facial expression would look like.

"Well why on earth would you come all the way down here to Atlanta?" I was subconsciously aware of him sliding forwards a little in the seat. I shifted a little, he made me uncomfortable. I didn't like people prying into my own life, if I wanted to talk I'd damn well talk.

"I don't mean to pry, I just find it admirable that you managed to make it all the way from Boston to Atlanta without so much as a scratch," his voice was low and full of something I could only describe as admiration.

"Look," I slid around so I was facing him and both of my legs were hanging just above the decking.

"I'm here 'cause my lil' brother went to school at the high school near here, he was sixteen years old, I had to come and find him. Don't you get me wrong here old man, I've been through my fair share of trials and the like, but it's what I had to do, this world ain't nothing like it once were, it ain't ever gonna be the same again and if there was some flicker of a chance that he was alive then I had to make sure he was," I gave him a small, sad smile then turned back around to look out over the paddocks again.

"Well, for all it's worth, I think it's an incredible feat for such a young girl to make it all the way from Boston to here and actually survive," he said after a long pause and with that he headed back inside. I looked over my shoulder slightly and relaxed into my little perch and went back to scanning the yard.

By the time change over came around I was so wired that I could barely even play with the idea of sleep. There were more people out there now lookin for some poor little girl lost in the woods, a young boy down stairs dying from a bullet wound and a group of stragglers that looked like they all needed a damn good feed and some solid sleep. I had suffered through my fair share of incidents over the course of my travels so I knew how much of a sanctuary Hershel's farm was. I holed up in the upstairs bedroom on the armchair next to the window for the remainder of the night. I couldn't help it but I spent the time staring out of the glass overlooking the open fields below. How the hell did the world get to this? How did it go from being so calm and full of seemingly menial problems to this? How the hell did I go from wanting to kill my family to trying to protect the very person that once took a knife to my arm and attempted to kill me?

How things change.

Sleep never came easy for me. I was always on edge for as long as I could remember. By the time the sun was up casting long golden yellow streams of light over the open fields I was already out of the front door and heading towards the woods. There was definitely more than enough food out there and we needed some sort of sustenance for the onslaught of people that had found their way into Hershel's home. I holstered my pistol into its case on my thigh, grabbed my crossbow and arrows and made my way quietly out down the stairs and across the wooden floorboards to the back door.

"Where you headed?" Hershel was standing on the back porch as I made my way silently out of the back door.

"We need to eat Hersh, Otis is gone and I'm not doin' much around here but gettin' in the way of everyone in there, I gotta do somethin' useful and right now I feel like slinging this here crossbow around is the only thing I got goin' for me," I turned on the last step and looked up at him, "please don't stop me," I said softly.

"Be careful," was all he said before turning back to look out over the fields he had so lovingly tended to once upon a time. I nodded slightly then began to trudge my way out through the open fields.

The grass was around my chest as I wandered towards the thickened line of trees. Maggie had asked me if I was afraid to be out there alone, my answer hadn't been quick but I had eventually told her that for the first two weeks I was perpetually scared, blind fear that almost paralyzed me in some cases. As time went on though, I adjusted to it all, I began to block out anything, killing became almost like a game to me, I stopped seeing them as people and started seeing them as animals, threats on me and mine. It wasn't something I was proud of but it was the only way I knew to survive. And let's face it, when hell opens up you got two choices, stand and fight till the bastard drags you under or lay down on your back and let him consume you whole. The bastard hadn't gotten me yet. I edged my way quietly through the shrubs and foliage, took out a few squirrels and a rabbit but that was about it. That's when I saw her. I was tracking, what I could only hope was, a decent sized buck when I saw the hint of flesh under some of the greenery next to me. I slid over the tree trunk I was hiding behind and moved the grass back.

"Oh shit," I was staring down at a pale little face, almost angelic. Her features were soft and her short dirty blonde hair was matted and tangled, dirt and blood smeared her forehead and her clothes were sullied beyond recognition. I bent forwards, set my crossbow down beside me and began checking her over. There was no visible bite marks or wounds, I rested my head to her chest, there was a feint heart beat that emerged after a moment. She was alive. But only just. This kid needed help and she needed it yesterday.

I was about to pick her up when I heard the rustle behind me. Without making too much of a scene I narrowed my eyebrows and reached for my crossbow, just as my hand hit the cold steel there was a searing pain that burst through the back of my skull and resonated right through to the inner part of my eye socket. I let out a groan and fell to the side.

"She ain't no damn walker!" was the last thing I heard as a pair of brown leather boots appeared in front of my eyes...

...and everything went black.