...Hey. So this is a little crazy, but I wrote this story years ago, and I've been looking back on everything, and I remember how much love and joy I had for writing this. I am at a totally different place in my life right now, but I thought it might be fun to start typing and see what I can produce. I have so much appreciation for anyone who ever read my stories and gave their time to leave a review. It provided me with confidence and creativity that I have carried with me for the past few years. So, without holding it back any longer, here comes another chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD.

Crackles of white light appeared in the sky. I can feel the chill of the night air coming through the cracks of the window. From across the street, I could see the light from a distant house, where Carl, Lori, and Rick were.

God knows what they were talking about. Only hours ago we had found out about Lori's pregnancy. I wonder about what her pregnancy will be like without Doctors, hospital visits, and whatever medicines and vitamins pregnant women have to worry about. I wonder about the baby, and whether it will be a boy or a girl. Who will it look like? Rick? Or Shane?

A shudder rips through my spine. It's getting colder at night, and I have to start thinking about winter. These guys have to start thinking about winter. It's going to be harder to hunt, and to find shelter. I had, up until this point, planned to leave the group when it felt right. Every time I come close, something goes wrong. I know deep down I have no obligation to stay with the group. But I couldn't escape the cold hard truth that even though I didn't need to stay with them, there was a small voice in the back of my head, asking 'But what if you want to?'

I know I don't need them to find food and shelter. I could do that on my own just fine.

However, there was the matter of company. I began to grow an affection for them. For Andrea, Rick...Carl.

And Daryl.

A small flutter in my stomach appeared. Daryl. I knew by now that we were friends. Partners.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The front door echos throughout the house. I turn, making my way down the stairs. I knew that Daryl would probably want to drink again. It was becoming a semi-ritual of ours.

I reach the front door, unlock it, and pull it open.

Oddly, it isn't Daryl that occupies the front door. It's Shane.

"Oh. Hey," I sigh.

He leans against the door frame, looking inside.

"Expecting someone else?" he asks.

"No. Just not you."

He lets out a small laugh, and makes his way inside. His shoulder brushes mine as he enters.

I can't help but frown. "Come on in, then."

Without responding, he comes into the middle of the front hall and stops, turning to face me. We stare off for a moment or so, before I shrug.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask, poorly hiding the irritation in my voice. He shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Not particularly. Just thought you might be feeling lonely."

"I'm alone most of the time, Shane. What makes you think I'm suddenly feeling lonely?"

He starts to move, slowly through the hall, taking time to stop and look at the family pictures of the people who probably once lived here. I keep my eyes firmly on his movements. I'm not scared of Shane. Irritated? Definitely.

"Just with everythin' that's happened today," he contemplated. "Seems like a lot of group drama, y'know? Doesn't it make you feel...like an outsider?"

I roll my eyes. "I don't play house. I know I'm an outsider. Drama does't bother me."

He stops and meets my eyes. One foot at a time, he starts to make his way closer to me. I stand my ground.

"No, it doesn't," he says. "...Nothin' seems to get to you at all, now that I think about it. What's that about?"

As he gets closer, I try to keep one step ahead of him.

"I just try to not get attached."

He chuckles. "Now that...that ain't right. Don't you like everybody here? Haven't we shared our food with you? Our bullets? Our shelter?"

"Shane-"

"No. Lemme finish." The smile starts to fade from his face. "I don't get you. You might have won them over. Hell, you may even have that redneck Dixon on your side. But you don't fool me."

My back makes contact with the door. He's arms length from me now. I reach to my back pocket for my knife, but it's not there. Only my handgun, and I wasn't about to shoot this guy.

"I'm not trying to fool anyone," I retort. "I just wanna-"

"Wanna what? Bide your time? Until you find a better group? Better weapons? What are you waiting for?"

He's close enough now that I can see the sweat on his forehead.

"You don't even wanna seem to get to know us," he continued. "Is that so you don't get attached? Makes it easier to turn on us later? Come on, there must be somethin' you wanna know about us. About me."

I straighten my back. Lock eyes with him.

"There is something I wanna know, Shane."

The smile on his face returns.

"Go ahead."

I gather a small breath of air.

"...Is it your baby?"

He stills. Like a deer in headlights. His face doesn't flicker, and it's unnerving. So much so, that I brace myself, ready to defend my face if he tries to punch it. Instead, he does something much more unexpected.

He laughs.

It's not a happy laugh, just the laugh of an amused man who doesn't know what else to do. He steps back, and I relish in the new space between us. He looks me up and down.

"You're full of shit," he chuckles. "Listen, you got something to drink around here? We're gonna talk some more..."

I nod my head forward. "In the kitchen."

He slowly turns, and walks away, still wearing a smile on his face. Once he disappears from view, I wait a second, before quickly opening the door and slipping outside.

There's no way in hell I'm staying to have a drink with this guy.

As I step outside into the dark, a few drops of rain begin to fall. It's nice. Refreshing on my skin. Soon, it turns to heavier rainfall, and I embrace in the chilliness of the air, trying to assess what just happened. I get the strong feeling Shane is trying to play games with me. Trying to find out if I have some sort of alternative motive. He'll be sorely disappointed when he finds out that I have no other intentions. Just another boring end-of-the-world survivor.

I walk down the path and contemplate going to see Daryl. Something inside me decides against it. There have been some shifts between us in the past few days - shifts I can't explain. Small glances, touches...all of them equally exciting and terrifying. Maybe it's having someone to talk to for the first time in a long time, or perhaps just the want for some sort of physical connection. I thought about his sexual comment earlier. Was he interested in me for some sort of sexual proposition? Or does he just see me as a partner? Maybe it was both. Maybe it was something more.

Either way, it wouldn't be the best idea to find out. Not now. Not ever.

Thunder crackled from overhead. Rain started to come down heavier. I thought about turning back, but I knew Shane would still be back there.

As I rounded a corner, I saw T-Dog loading some stuff onto the front porch of his house.

"Lyla," he called once he spotted me. "What are you doing out in the rain?"

"Just going for a walk. What are you doing?"

He held up some cans in his hands. "I found a whole box of these in the basement. Thought I would take them to the main house in the morning."

"Need a hand?"

"Sure, there's a couple more downstairs. Mind grabbing them?"

I nodded and wondered inside. As I walked down the stairs to the basement, I heard more crackles of thunder. The rain would clear the air tomorrow. The basement was full of old exercise equipment, old tool boxes, and other shit that rich people buy but don't use. I take a moment to look around. For all the money in the world, these people still couldn't buy their way into safety. I thought about all the people I once knew. People I worked with. How many people were there out there? Surviving? In the grand scheme of things, was there a bigger network of people? Or just small fragments of society like us?

I grabbed a handful of cans and cradled them in my arms as I walked back upstairs and towards the front door.

I stepped outside the front door, into the pounding rain.

"T, there might be some more in those boxes up top-" I looked up. A rippled scream that I didn't even know I was capable of rippled from my throat. "LOOK OUT!"

T-Dog looked up, but it was too late. He didn't see it. He didn't see the walker coming up behind him, it's growls and feet disguised by the sound of the rain and thunder. He turned his head just in time to see it's jaws open and make contact with his neck. Dark red blood spewed from his neck as he cried out - a horrific sound- and fell to the ground.

Without thinking, I dropped the cans to the ground, and whipped out my gun from behind me. Three sharp shots fired into the walker, that was now on top of him. It collapsed onto his bloody, groaning body. I stepped forward, shaking, to help him. That's when I saw them.

In front of me, I saw more. A whole crowd of walkers. Lighting stuck the sky again, illuminating them in flashes of horror. I realised the chaos my shots would bring as they looked in my direction, and changed their pace.

I stumbled back from the porch, and looked down at T-Dog. I couldn't leave him.

He glanced up at me, his eyes desperate and scared.

"Run..." he pleaded.

And so I did just that. I ran.