A rewrite of Among the Dead. Plot is mostly the same but things will go on differently from the original. For returning readers, I'm sorry this took so long. I announced a rewrite a LONG time ago. I just got so busy with school that I completely forgot about it. I hope this can make up for some of the lost time.

I still can't promise that this story will be updated quickly or frequently. I'm at the end of my junior year in high school but now it's just preparation for final exams and last minute projects-I hope you guys can understand.

For new readers, hi! Thanks for stopping by and checking this out. I originally had the beginning a lot like the first episode of The Walking Dead. Not only is that just not creative on my part, it's also plagiarism. I kept some from the original verse (which has been deleted) and now, I hope it's not so similar to TWD. I hope you enjoy this story and that you stick around for the ride!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Maximum Ride series. They belong to J.P.

Chapter 1 - Opening You're Eyes to a Whole New World

She awoke gradually.

In the beginning, there was complete darkness. She was barely aware, barely able to create a single conscious thought. There was a stillness, a lulling silence that surrounded her. Slowly, she was made aware that she possessed a body though her limbs were numb to her, heavy and weak. The sense of touch returned to her fingertips and her toes and soon she felt cold. Oh, how she missed the warmth of that darkness she had waded in before. There was suddenly muffled sounds of... birds, perhaps. It was much too loud, far too piercing in her poor eardrums. Oh, how she missed the comforting silence of the darkness she had waded in before. There was suddenly a scent-strong and almost nauseating. She could barely identify the stench, though, let alone her own name. Oh, how she missed the numbing of her senses of that darkness she had waded in before.

She was beginning to wake up and she didn't like it. She wanted nothing more than to return to the world of utter blackness, where she could rest and feel nothing at all. Where she could sleep and think nothing at all.

Her muscles began to obey. Her fingers began to twitch, out of her own curiosity. Her eyes rolled behind her closed eye lids as she fought to cling onto the darkness she had resided in before. She did not want to wake up, not yet. But, something blinding, something hot was pulling her away.

Brown eyes suddenly squinted open reluctantly. Oh, but something sent a sudden and frightening shock of pain through her skull. Almost by instinct, she turned her head the opposite way and slowly allowed her eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion. She stared at the off-white wall beside her, her mind slowly registering that what had woken her was sunlight. It was warm against the chilled skin of her neck and cheek, but it was still too bright for her dilated pupils.

While she stared blankly at the wall, she began to think consciously. She was most definitely a girl, or perhaps an older woman. Judging by the golden strands that pressed against her cheek, she had blonde hair. She wasn't sure if her skin was pale or tanned and she was much too tired to look. What color were her eyes? A boring color, she thought sluggishly. Brown or black, she continued. After a long moment of contemplating, she was able to remember that, yes, she had her mother's brown eyes.

What was her name? The letter M was first to come to mind. Mable? No. Madeline? No. Maya? No. Maxine? It sounded right but something told her that was wrong as well. She was slow, her mind suddenly working after laying nearly dormant for so long. Max, she realized. It was a nickname, but for what? Maxine was not it. She remembered that it was odd, though. Maximum? Yes. That was it. It sounded just right. And her last name? Ah, yes. Martinez. Her name was Max Martinez.

Though it almost felt as though she were trudging through mud in her attempted to recollect her lost memories, her lost knowledge, she was beginning to gather the information much faster.

She had a mother, naturally. Valencia Martinez. Did she have a father? ... Yes, she did. Jeb Batchelder-but they weren't close. He had left long ago, yet still kept in touch to pay for child support. She had a sister... or a half-sister. Ella Martinez. A sweet girl who looked much like her father. Then there was her brother, also a half-sibling... Ar... Ari? Ari Batchelder. He was older than her and born to Jeb's first wife who unfortunately passed during childbirth. He was a rather introverted kid, she remembered. But, he adored Max.

Did she have any friends? Her mind racked it's memories for the faces of those she spent her time with outside of the family. There was... a girl who often complained about her legal name. Something Joy. J.J was her nickname, she remembered. A thin girl with pale skin and a bright smile. Glasses, perhaps? ... No, actually, no glasses. They were good friends. Then, there was another girl, a bit younger. She had mocha skin and wide eyes. She... loved to talk. A lot. Monique? It wasn't wrong but... Oh. Nudge. The girl was named Nudge simply because it took such to tell her to stop chatting away.

That was all she could remember for the time being.

Blinking, she realized that the sun had moved. The ray of sunshine that had lit the wall had shifted farther left. How long had she been laying there lost in her memories? Gently, Max turned her head and stared at the ceiling. Where tiles usually that worn? Why were the lights off? There were so many dead bugs inside, she noticed. Where was she?

Her neck hurt when she moved too suddenly. A hiss of pain sounded almost like a jackhammer in the silence of the room. She had attempted to turn to her right side to examine what may or may not be there when a sudden pulling sensation in her neck forced her to stop. Once the pain had subsided, she turned once again, but slowly. There was... an IV stand, she believed. The bag that hung at the top was empty, though. Her eyes traced the tube connected to the bag to her own arm. Ah, so she wasn't tanned. Instead, she was rather pallid. Now looking at her body, she realized she was in a hospital. But why? She couldn't remember...

All too quickly, her body began to work and all too quickly it let Max know just how deprived of food and water she was. Her stomach churned painfully with hunger and her tongue dry as sand. She needed to call for a nurse and demand what she wanted. Perhaps, complain about the lack of care she received as a patient once she felt healthier. There was a button, she remembered. Just behind her head.

She lifted herself up onto her elbows and promptly fell back against the pillow. A pounding headache had prevented her from moving any further and the near violent shaking of her shoulders had frightened her. The headache came as no surprise to Max, considering her state of health, but the realization of how much muscle mass she was missing had her questioning once again. How long had she been laying in the hospital bed?

Tilting her head back, she searched among the technology and found her desired button. With a shaking effort, she lifted her arms and struggled to reach back and press the button. When she did she finally relaxed and attempted to catch her breath. Such a simple task as pushing a button had suddenly become strenuous, much to her humiliation.

Minutes ticked by and not a single nurse waltz through the closed door of her hospital room. Even longer, Max waiting, and still not a one. Frowning, she decided to reach back and press the button once more. Still no one.

Where were the staff nurses?

It seemed that she would have to care for herself. Though it was the last thing on her mind, especially knowing exactly how weak she was physically, she decided that the sooner she gave her body what it desired then the faster she'll heal.

Slowly, she sat up, frowning against the trembling of her shoulders and arms. Naturally, her body suddenly protested against the movement after laying so still. Everything ached and stretched uncomfortably. Turning her attention to the tubed attached to her arms, she decided that empty IV bags were useless. A minute of removing the needles as best as she could with her quivering hand brought perspiration to her forehead. How pitiful, she thought. She could only image how walking would go along.

That was her next challenge. Spotting another closed door just across the room, she assumed it was a bathroom. Where there was a bathroom there was a sink that spewed water, which she needed desperately. Max pushed aside the blanket that covered her legs and began to mentally plot out how she would manage to make it to the door without collapsing and possibly breaking herself. Her legs looked gaunt from the lack of activity they experienced for who knew how long. No doubt if she tried to stand without support, her knees would give out on her. She'd only bruise herself or possibly break her hip.

With a sigh, she realized that was the kind of thought process an eighty year old woman went through. Judging simply by what she knew, she was most definitely not eighty years old. Though she couldn't remember exactly how old she was, she was most likely in her late teens or early twenties.

Inhaling, she decided that crawling would have to do. It would be safer than attempting to walk. Just as she was about to drag her legs over the side of the hospital bed, there was a loud crack that rocked through Max's thin frame. Her body's immediate reaction was to tense every muscle in her body and jerk suddenly, nearly toppling her over in a wave of pain. Still, her heart galloped in her chest as fear crashed through her with the realization that the deafening noise was the sound of a gunshot.

Had her body been able to produce saliva, she would have swallowed thick as her stomach flipped with her sudden rise in anxiety. There was a dangerous, armed man in the hospital and they had just shot someone by the sounds of it. Max did know what to do. She was left completely vulnerable and unable to hide or protect herself. If the man managed to find her, she would be doomed.

Adrenaline shot through her veins, she could feel it in the heightening of her senses and the sudden urge to jump out of bed and press herself as far as she could get under the hospital bed was demanding. Still, she couldn't move. Despite the adrenaline in her system, the fear she experience paralyzed her. Not a single muscle moved from her tensed position as she listened carefully.

The sound of rushing blood and her beating heart rang in her ears, but she could still hear the sound of thumping footsteps. Wait... there were more than one pair. There were two intruders? Max breathing began to shorten and she felt her fear rise. Why were there no screaming, no shouts, no panicked voices of the hospital staff and patients while they fled the area? There was nothing, she realized. Nothing but the found of those two prowling men with weapons in hand.

Then, there was muffled talking. Max strained her ears to listen, hoping to pick up any words. Still, she could barely make out a syllable. The door and the walls were too thick.

The door knob suddenly began to turn.

Max began to panic. Her breath wasn't coming in fast enough and her heart felt as though it would rip itself from her chest. She hyperventilated, too panicked, too scared to keep herself quiet. She felt dizzy as the door slowly began to open and she fell back against the pillow. She only glimpsed the barrel of a gun before Max found her voice.

"NO!" she shrieked, her voice hoarse and cracking from it's dehydration and lack of use. "Don't shoot me! Please! No! Dear Lord, no!"

Her frenzied mind could only register a sudden cursing before there was someone speaking rapidly. She didn't understand a word of it. Was it English? She didn't know. She was too busy trying to breathe, trying to gather oxygen into her deprived lungs. Each drag she took, though, was inhaled sharply. She could never take enough. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Oh, she couldn't breathe!

Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar face hovering over her. He looked to be an older man, worn and dirty with wrinkles lining his face.

She couldn't breathe. Her heart was racing and it hurt her with every palpitation. Was she having a heart attack? Oh dear, no... She was shaking, despite her form had curled in on itself. She felt as though everything had suddenly been taken from her control.

"Hey," the man spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay." He held his hands out in front of him but not once did he touch her for which Max was grateful. Even through her panicked state, though, she felt confusion. Why help her and not kill her? "Look, we're not going to shoot you, I promise. Look, I'm setting my gun on the floor, okay?"

Max, still gasping desperately, watched the man reach behind him and retrieve a semi-automatic handgun from his belt. He held it up to show her and then slowly placed it down on the ground. "See? No more gun. I promise I won't pick it up, okay? My buddy," he jerked his chin to the side and she shifted her gaze to another man who was much younger. "is going to do the same thing ok? Manny, do it." The younger man, Manny, obeyed and did the same.

Though she was still scared by the presence of the two men-they shot and killed someone!-she felt just a little reassure that they did not have their weapons ready to kill her.

"Now," the older man spoke, drawing Max's wide eyed, panicked gaze to him once more. "I want you to breathe with me, okay? Just watch me breathe and do the same. Can you do that?" Max nodded jerkily. He inhaled slowly, drawing in a deep breath before exhaling just as slow. Max mimicked him, focusing her attention fully on his breathing pattern, despite it's difficulty.

The man continued to do this with her for several more minutes, reassuring her that 'everything was okay' during the same. Soon, Max found it easier to breathe steadily again. She began to relax suddenly, feeling her adrenaline ebb away and her body feeling heavy with exhaustion. It was far too much excitement for her to go through after just awaking from a coma.

Her lids felt heavy, but she didn't trust these men so far as to fall asleep. But, her body had different plans. Just before Max closed her eyes and succumbed to the darkness once more, she heard the younger man mutter, "How did she survive?"

Sound more interesting than the old version? I hope so! Leave a review and tell me what you think? Thanks!

ALSO if anyone has ever experienced an actual panic attack or you've helped someone you know through a panic attack, please let me know if what I wrote is alright. I've never experienced one nor been in a situation where I had to help someone through one. I got most of my information about how to help someone overcome an attack through Google but I'd like to know if it's alright still. Thanks.