The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Forest. Night 4.
Bianca
[HELP TINA]
“Tell you wha… moret…” Victor said, as he glissaded his backpack off his shoulders. It fell on the ground. He squatted down and unzipped it. He searched inside, pushing aside various items on the interior, until he removed a trio of food cans. “I’ll give you this. It’s all I have.”
Bianca folded her arms and shot a glare at Victor, while Tina’s blue eyes fixed on the rations glowed. Victor marched up to her and deposited the cans in her thin arms that could barely carry them. “Thank you.” The girl replied, as she put the items inside her bag.
Victor placed his hands on his hips. “So…I guess you can scoot now.”
“I’m afraid that’s not happening.” Tina answered, but this time in a severely threatening tone, the sweet voice gone.
Victor stiffened his eyebrows and Bianca straightened once they heard those words. In t… [view original content]
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Alleyway. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver’s lungs began drawing breaths as his heart raced. Oliver ran down the alleyway, just thinking about getting to Andrey. He was so focused that it was the single thought coursing through his mind. He couldn’t see the stalker, probably because he had already left from the opposite side. The alley was dark and grimy, having only a few stinky dumpsters cramming the narrow space.
As Oliver dashed past one of the dumpsters, a figure popped out from behind it and tackled Oliver. Oliver, taken by surprise, couldn’t react and was thrown against the wall. He felt a pain concussing his cranium as he struck the wall. The momentum of the tackle sent Oliver onto the ground.
“Dammit!” Oliver grunted, knowing that he was now at the mercy of the man. The last thing he sensed was the man’s boot kicking his head, relaying Oliver into a void of unconsciousness.
Atlanta, House In The Forest. Night 4.
Matt
Matt looked away and chewed his thumbnail with conviction while Don wrapped Billy’s corpse into a blanket they’d picked up from one of the bedrooms. Matt flinched and squeezed his fists at every sound of the dead flesh being flipped over, the sound of crusted blood crisping, the tissue of the blanket wrapping around Billy.
Once Don had the body wrapped onto a cylinder like a taco, he scrubbed his hands against one other, like if it was just another job well done. He noticed the fallen Marlin .22 along with the second one lingering in the corner and he picked them up, contemplating and admiring the weapons, before he slung both of them on his shoulder.
Matt turned around with the air of being upset. “Could you please…not act like Billy’s just some…dead corpse?”
“What?” Don said, turning his face towards Matt. “Oh, yeah…sorry about that. I think we should probably bury him at sun-up. There are still a buncha feasters out there.”
“How did you get here then?” Matt asked in a suspicious tone. He didn’t know this man and he had to question every word he said to make sure he was trustworthy.
“I barely did. I left my pickup at the side of a dirt road and came running towards here.” He explained.
“So…at first light…we give him the proper burial.” Matt affirmed.
“That’s the plan.” Don reasserted with a nod. “Shall we hit the hay then?”
Atlanta, Red Target. Night 4.
Anson
Anson entered the office. It wasn’t that much of a big deal. It consisted of a simple desk in the middle, accompanied by a holed chair and a non-functioning computer. Dyads of file cabinets stretched along the walls. A tall closet was situated in the rim of the bureau. What caught Anson’s attention was a board riveted into the wall, that contained myriads of keys. All of the keys were present, except for one.
Anson advanced towards the key board. They all had labels above each one, indicating their use. He frowned his eyebrows as he saw that the ‘FRONT CABINET’ key was missing.
Anson rubbed his chin. Why would someone take the key but not take the guns? The same question resounded in his brain. Something was weird.
But when Anson turned around to go back to Victoria, he froze once he saw both of the closet doors open, and two kids were standing by the door, brandishing guns towards him.
“Don’t move!” One of the kids threatened, giving his gun a jar. The boy was pale and had needle black hair, making him look like a sinister youngster. Anson estimated he couldn’t be more than ten years old.
The second kid seemed a bit more mature. He was of Argentinian ethnicity and had expressive brown eyes. His t-shirt bore an ironic message nowadays, ‘Loving Dead’.
“Calm down with that gun, Jonna.” The Argentinian kid whispered to the other in a harsh tone.
“Don’t take your eyes off him! You’re lowering your guard, Uriel.” Jonna mumbled back.
Anson was in a loss for words. Never in his life he believed he would be held at gunpoint by two children. It was almost a twisted version of David vs. Goliath.
“Look, kids…” Anson said, taking a step forward.
Jonna narrowed his gaze and focused his aim. “Don’t come any nearer!”
Anson slightly raised his arms, not knowing what else to do. “I gotta say…you guys have balls by doing this. You really do.”
“Whatever.” Jonna shrugged in an uncaring tone. “We were here first. The guns are ours. Leave the shop, and you might leave unscathed.”
Anson grinned at that threat, making Jonna even more pissed. “Really? Are you sure that those guns belong to you?”
Anson took another step, which Jonna immediately remarked. “Stop!”
Anson kept walking. “I mean…you’re not gonna kill me. You’re just a pissing little brat. I’m a grown man.” Anson was now just a step away from Jonna. Jonna had his hands that shook in a quick spasm. “Also…the safety on your gun is activated.”
In a sudden move, Anson swooped his arm and took the gun right from his hands. He then glimpsed at Uriel, who was trembling, with a creepy smile. “Also, I bet all my pennies that you forgot to load a bullet into the chamber.”
Atlanta, House In The Forest. Morning 5.
Matt
The shy sun began rising its way above the distant mountains, painting the sky in a pale morning color. The cold from the night had persisted, and despite the appearance of the sun, the breeze still swept the region and the plants and trees had glaze dangling from their leaves.
The night had been a living hell for Matt. Not because of the temperatures, but because of his intense emotions. He’d spent from dusk to sun-up curled into a ball in the living room, gazing out the window into the bright moon, crying his eyes off. A night of torment, anguish and turmoil.
Matt and Don stood outside the manor, with shovels at hand. Their broad blades were covered in humid dirt, and the duo looked down at the freshly-dug grave. It had took them about half an hour to dig it, place the body inside, and then put the dirt back again.
“You gonna say some words or what?” Don said in a flat manner, his jaws drubbing against each other. “It’s freezing cold out here.”
“I…” Matt began talking. He wanted to say what he had in his heart. He wanted to say that Billy was the greatest guy he’d even met, how he defended him when he was framed of breaking a window at school, how he had such fond memories of one another. How it was this world that changed him. But he was afraid that if he did so, he would breakdown once again.
“Fuckin’ hell man, get on with it.” Don insisted. Matt just ignored him and his selfish attitude. He could deduce by his tone that Don wasn’t the most touchy feeling guy.
“I can’t.” Matt declared. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Don said, walking inside the house with the shovel leaned on his shoulder.
Matt gave the grave a good, long stare, before following Don inside the house.
Matt followed Don into the kitchen. Don approached a row of counters and began opening them, releasing a sound of surprise as he saw a multitude of canned fruit, beans and vegetables. “Look at all this stuff! You got a backpack or something like that?”
Matt shifted his attention towards the bag laying in the corner. It was the one that he was going to use to escape. Matt marched towards and picked it up. “I got this one. But it’s already full.”
“Is there anything else of interest?” Don enquired, inspecting every drawer, inch and knot of the house. “Besides the food and the guns?”
“I don’t think so.” Matt replied.
“Well, shit.” Don profaned. “We’re just gonna have to carry as much cans we can in our arms and run to the truck.”
“The pickup, is it too far away?” Matt questioned, with his arms folded whilst chewing on his nail.
“No. Just hiding right out in the sticks.” Don informed, as he began pushing cans of food into his arms. “It’s gonna be a pain in the ass to carry these, but I just can’t leave all these goodies behind. So…get to loadin’!”
Matt rolled his eyes and strolled towards the cupboard, as he began hauling objects into his arms until the cupboard was empty.
“Alright, let’s go.” Don instructed with a smile. Those supplies had obviously made his day. “Run like hell and don’t let anything fall off your arms. Dodge any feasters, it’ll be hard to fight like this.”
Matt and Don spun around, directing themselves towards the back door. “Just run towards the woods, Matt. I’ll show you the way.”
The two stepped outside, and as they did so, they sprinted towards the forest. They kept a steady speed as to not let anything slip out of their grasp. The mass of trees wasn’t too far away, and when the two people entered the dense vegetation, Matt felt some kind of thorn shredding a piece of his trousers, but he just kept dashing along with the French man.
Don halted as he panted heavily. Matt stopped too, and noted a pickup right in front of them. It was a greenish one, that had a large rear enclosure along with two rows of seating in the front.
Don opened with difficulty the back door, and tossed the cans inside a duffel bag that he had in the vehicle. Matt did the same and deposited all of the heavy cans. Don slid the two guns off his shoulder and then threw them on the back seat. Matt noticed that the only thing Don had besides the things they had collected now was a bottle of whisky laying in a bottle holder between the two front seats.
Don shut the door and entered the driver’s seat. “C’mon, Matt. Don’t be left behind.”
Matt circled around the truck and entered the passenger’s seat, as Don fished a key-ring out his pocket and inserted the correct key in the ignition. As he switched the engine on, Matt was about to buckle his seat-belt, but Don stopped him by placing a hand on his chest.
“It’s the apocalypse, my friend!” He observed in an enthusiastic tone. “No rules or laws. No need for seat-belt.”
“What if we crash?” Matt conjectured.
“I’m not that much of a drunk driver.” Don reassured, putting the reverse gear on and backing up onto the nearest dirt road. The truck wobbled as it stomped over branches and thick foliage.
Matt shrugged and slung the seat-belt aside.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory. Night 4.
Bianca
The trio had been hiking through the woods for at least twenty minutes now. Tina kept her gun beamed at them at all times and scanned their surroundings every five seconds or so.
Bianca had a hard time hauling Victor and felt her shoulder becoming sore. Victor had managed to withstand the pain, and now he only drew a heavy breath whenever he gave a step, sometimes releasing a strangled whimper. What was more concerning was that Victor was colder and he was a bit pale. His pants were drenched in blood.
“Is it too far?” Bianca asked, glancing past her shoulder.
“It shouldn’t be.” Tina said. “Just focus on walking, will you?!”
Bianca frowned and twisted her mouth, as she looked back at her front. Victor hobbled and was always going up and down when it came to height.
“Bianca…B…Bianca…” Victor called out in a muffled whisper.
“What is it?” Bianca inquired with no emotion traversing her.
“Did you mean it?” He asked between incomprehensible stutters.
“What?” Bianca asked as she narrowed her eyelids in confusion.
“Were you…would you really have left me back there?” Victor questioned, with the miserable tone of a hurt puppy.
Bianca looked up to the sky, as if in pondering for the answer. “Yes.”
Victor elevated his eyebrows and he lowered his head. Just a few seconds after, Bianca saw the outline of the abandoned building drawing a few meters away from them.
“Here we are.” Tina stated.
The building consisted of a forsaken brick edifice that had a shape similar to a half-star. The fact that it had been deserted before the apocalypse was apparent due to the black, blanche and turquoise graffiti painted in every wall. The second story consisted of a row of windows, that were surprisingly not shattered.
As they approached the building, Tina smirked as she saw a police car parked outside the factory. She was happier to see George handcuffing two men: Oliver and Andrey.
Great chapter! Anson really grows on me. His interactions with Victoria are a bit creepy, but I can't deny his coolness in this chapter. Tina on the other hand continues to cement her position as my most hated character and I hope she dies in horrible agony. However, I am also pretty intrigued why her group abducts all these people
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Alleyway. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver’s lungs began drawi… moreng breaths as his heart raced. Oliver ran down the alleyway, just thinking about getting to Andrey. He was so focused that it was the single thought coursing through his mind. He couldn’t see the stalker, probably because he had already left from the opposite side. The alley was dark and grimy, having only a few stinky dumpsters cramming the narrow space.
As Oliver dashed past one of the dumpsters, a figure popped out from behind it and tackled Oliver. Oliver, taken by surprise, couldn’t react and was thrown against the wall. He felt a pain concussing his cranium as he struck the wall. The momentum of the tackle sent Oliver onto the ground.
“Dammit!” Oliver grunted, knowing that he was now at the mercy of the man. The last thing he sensed was the man’s boot kicking his head, relaying Oliver into a v… [view original content]
Great chapter! Anson really grows on me. His interactions with Victoria are a bit creepy, but I can't deny his coolness in this chapter. Ti… morena on the other hand continues to cement her position as my most hated character and I hope she dies in horrible agony. However, I am also pretty intrigued why her group abducts all these people
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Alleyway. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver’s lungs began drawi… moreng breaths as his heart raced. Oliver ran down the alleyway, just thinking about getting to Andrey. He was so focused that it was the single thought coursing through his mind. He couldn’t see the stalker, probably because he had already left from the opposite side. The alley was dark and grimy, having only a few stinky dumpsters cramming the narrow space.
As Oliver dashed past one of the dumpsters, a figure popped out from behind it and tackled Oliver. Oliver, taken by surprise, couldn’t react and was thrown against the wall. He felt a pain concussing his cranium as he struck the wall. The momentum of the tackle sent Oliver onto the ground.
“Dammit!” Oliver grunted, knowing that he was now at the mercy of the man. The last thing he sensed was the man’s boot kicking his head, relaying Oliver into a v… [view original content]
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Matt
Matt leaned his right cheek against his fist, with his head almost touching the window. Since it was hell on the planet, Don was both free and glad to be able to drive at over sixty miles per hour. The trees passed by and vanished in the form of brown and green blurs. Matt listened to the feeble sound of the pickup lifting dust on its passage and the occasional food cans bumping into each other.
Matt wondered what the heck he was gonna do now. Don seemed content of the plan to just drive and drive, but Matt needed something concrete. His thoughts were dazzled, and right now a sensation of being lost crumbled upon him. He thought about finding his parents. But how would he do that? He began forgetting about that possibility. His parents were long gone. It was just him.
Don stared at the road with a smirk. Nothing pleased him more than the open road.
“Ain’t it awesome?” Don said in a suave tone like he was a visionary. “It’s a feeling of freedom. Just you, your wheels, and the roads taking you on an adventure.”
Matt didn’t respond, he didn’t even budge. Don squeezed his lips, thinking of something. He wanted to animate the teenager who was all bummed out. Whilst keeping his eyes on the road, he used a spare hand to rummage through a multitude of CDs scattered across the dash.
He picked one in particular and inserted in the slot of the vehicle’s radio. “Oh yeah, baby. This one never gets old.”
Matt narrowed his eyebrows. He asked himself if loud music wouldn’t attract walkers to them. Matt had already his mouth open to prevent Don, but was interrupted when the blaring song blew through the speakers, making him hop in his seat out of a startle.
“Dun, dun, dun…dun dun dun, dun dun dun!” Don chanted along with the music. Matt recognized the rhythmic instrumental of the song. It was ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ by The Queen.
Matt reclined in his seat and folded his arms, followed by a gulp. He gazed out the window towards the forest that faded away by his side, but he didn’t see any walkers. Yet.
“C’mon, Matt, sing with me!” Don boasted,, the music muffling his voice, as he gave Matt a gentle push on his shoulder. Matt just gave him a sharp glare. “Another one bites the dust, yeah…and another one gone, another gone, another one bites the dust!”
Matt scrubbed his temples and released a frustrated groan. Looking to his left, he saw Don staring at him whilst casting his finger towards him.
“Hey! It’s gonna get you too! Another one bites the dust!” Don warbled, finishing his sentence by warping his lips and raising his head, howling like a wolf crying to the full moon. His out-of-tune voice reassured that Don wasn’t in the music business before.
Don stopped singing and glanced at Matt with a foolish smile. He was sad to see that his approach hadn’t cheered the teen up, who was now back in his usual position. Matt kept turning his head in all directions, fidgeting in his seat.
Don swapped to a bleaker expression and switched the music off.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory. Night 4.
Bianca
Tina approached George, forcing Victor and Bianca to stay close like they were leashed dogs.
“Jesus, yo, don’t string ‘em up too tight!” Oliver complained, his wrists being almost cut off from blood circulation due to his tight cuffs.
“Shut up.” George instructed. The African-American man had an austere expression, and despite the crucifix dangling from his neck, his physique similar to a tree log gave him an intimidating appearance. George sprang around and smiled once he laid eyes on Tina. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Hi George.” Tina said, returning the smirk.
“Well, well…it seems like you brought more lost souls into our community.” George observed, looking at Victor and Bianca.
“And you brought two more.” Tina remarked.
“Yes.” George said, with an even wider simper. “Five people in only one day. This couldn’t get any better.”
“Should we show ‘em around?” Tina asked.
“Let’s get them settled in.” George responded, shoving Oliver and Andrey towards the frontal broad wooden door of the abandoned factory. “Put the two you got in the same room as that individual. The one with the eyepatch and all.”
Tina nodded, as she walked up to the ample door. She inclined her body weight into the door, and let it slide along a rail as she pushed it open. The screech made Oliver flinch. In the meanwhile, George held the four prisoners at gunpoint.
When Tina had opened the door, they managed to get a first glimpse of the interior. The main room was a vast, vacant space, that was turned into a maze by a complex structure sticking out of the ground that was made of iron columns, poles and ladders leading to a higher platform that was near the ceiling.
“C’mon.” George indicated, aiming his gun towards the indoors.
Tina marched beside George and the two of them followed as Oliver, Andrey and Bianca supporting Victor entered the building. Once they were inside, Tina shut the door once again. Tina took possession of Victor and Bianca and departed in one direction, whilst George ambled in the other one.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Main Area. Night 4.
Andrey
Andrey glanced in all directions. He was already planning his escape. He essayed to memorize every corner of the facility, as if in he was trying to draw a blueprint in his mind. He was also aiming to know how many people inhabited the place.
As he walked, he spotted a lateral door that was open, and the room inside was adorned with benches, an altar and a cross with the image of a crucified Jesus nailed to the wall. Inside, there was a man donning the garments of a priest. He was a tall man, whose face was babied by his blond hair and turquoise eyes, but contradicted by a few wrinkles emerging in his visage, probably due to the man’s thirties.
He yanked his head towards the sky, and saw a Porto-Rican man marching along the higher platform with a sniper rifle in his arms.
“Through here.” George indicated, jabbing his gun towards a claustrophobic hallway. The passage was a dead-end, but at the tip of it, there was an old metal door. “Go into that room.”
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Old Staff Room. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver heard a rusty sound as George slid the door’s bolt into place from the outside, locking them inside. They were now shut inside a dark room. George’s echoing footsteps were audible as he walked away from the cell.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Oliver said, opening his arms to give Andrey a hug, but his handcuffs stopped him.
“Fuckin’ rings a’ metal.” Andrey sputtered, looking down as his cuffs although he couldn’t see them in the darkness.
“Hey, we’re alive and together. It could be worse.” Oliver observed, looking on the bright side.
“What happened to the others?” Andrey asked.
Oliver lowered his head. “I…I don’t know. Our car crashed. I had to come running for you. I left ‘em…Victoria’s alive, that I know.”
“Jesus…and you just left them?!” Andrey criticized.
Oliver made an invisible frown. “Andrey, I wasn’t letting that asshole run off with you!”
“What the hell happened to Jill and Anson?” Andrey inquired, his voice molded by a hint of annoyance.
“They were passed out from the crash!” Oliver replied in a hurried pace.
“Fuck!” Andrey exclaimed, springing around and walking away from Oliver. He walked until he hit his face against the wall. “Shit!” He profaned, clutching his forehead.
“Fuck, I was only trying to get to you!” Oliver reasoned.
“I would’ve been fine.” Andrey hissed with a gorked glare. “I mean, I don’t give a shit about Anson, but you could’ve at the least stayed with Jill.”
Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but remained silent as he lowered his head in shame.
“She was in more danger than I was!” Andrey added. “You better hope she managed to get out.”
Atlanta, Red Target. Night 4.
Victoria
Victoria tore a piece of her cloth and compressed it against Jill’s wound. Her legs squirmed and she winced from the pain. “Does it hurt?”
“Of course it fuckin’ hurts!” Jill spat between teeth.
Victoria seemed offended by that response. “Sorry.”
Jill sighed. “No…I’m sorry. I mean…thanks. I’m just…it’s a pain in the ass.”
Victoria grinned. “Yeah.”
Out of the blue, Anson stormed into the room. Victoria jerked her head towards him, but was surprised to see him grasping two kids by their shoulders.
“These little shits were lurking out back.” Anson disclosed with a cold gaze, like a security guard reporting to his commanding officer.
Victoria wriggled her brows and stood up, whilst Jill tried to flick her eyes to see what was going on. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Who…who are you guys?” Victoria asked, ignoring Jill.
“It doesn’t matter.” Anson intervened. “They have the key to the cabinet, but they won’t give it to us.”
“They’re ours, you old coot!” Jonna affirmed. Despite his innocent and young age, along with his high-pitched, childish voice, he was sassy.
Anson growled and was about to give him a slap in the nape, but Victoria halted him. “Hey! Calm the fuck down! What’re you doing?!”
“What?! The brat insulted me.” Anson argued.
Victoria rolled her eyes, before kneeling down in front of the two boys. “Hey. I’m Victoria. What’re you called?”
Uriel and Jonna shared an unsecure look. “Uriel.”
“Jonna.”
“Cool.” Victoria said in a sweet tone. “Anson, let go of them.”
Anson emitted a wave of fire towards her with his eyes, but after some hesitation, he let them go and forced a fake smile. “Whatever you say, my dear.” He said in a calmer voice, setting the two boys free.
Victoria discretely shuddered with the affectionate name the man called her. “Look, kids, where are your parents?”
“We don’t have any.” Jonna claimed. His eyes darted back and forth due to Anson’s towering presence.
“Well, some of us do.” Uriel completed his sentence with a hint of sadness. “We live in an institution for kids. Some of us are orphans, others have parents but for some reason can’t live with them.”
Victoria frowned. This made things much more difficult for her. She wasn’t sure if her little dysfunctional group would be able to take care of two kids. “You guys…why aren’t you in your institution? Why’d you come here?”
“Why do you think we came here?” Jonna inquired in a sarcastic tone. “To get guns.”
Victoria was dumbstruck by their answer. It seemed something so crude and violent to be said by a ten year-old. “Uh…”
“You kids should keep your paws off your toys.” Anson reprimanded, illustrating by waving in the air the two guns he had taken from them. “You kids can’t even use these.”
“We weren’t planning on using them.” Uriel said, kicking the ground with the tip of his shoe. Uriel swooped away a bead of sweat skidding along his visage. “Our friend Leon is the one who really knows how to use them.”
“Leon? Who’s Leon?” Victoria quizzed in an inquisitive tone.
“He’s our leader.” Jonna stated. “He’s the older, so he’s been leading us.”
“Us? How many of you are there?! How old is Leon?” Anson demanded in a firm tone. He knew that if news ever got back to their leader that they had held two kids at gun-point, it could backfire on them.
Uriel pondered for a while, counting with his fingers. “Six, counting us. And chill, Leon is fifteen.”
Anson took a long breath from relief. Victoria was too puzzled about this information. It made her feel a bit anguished to know that there were young kids out there, surviving with nobody to watch over them, leading them to such measures.
“The woman that took care of us…a deadie ate her.” Uriel conveyed. His dragged sentences showed that he wasn’t sure if he should tell those people everything about them. He clutched his arm with his other hand in a defensive stance. “We were left alone. Leon though, with his sister Lee, helped us though. They barricaded the windows, and they rationed the food. They’re great to us, and to the younger ones, Lucas and Winston.”
Victoria took in the information with both horror and amazement. “Look…don’t worry about Anson here. He’s not gonna hurt you. Right?”
Anson shrugged with his arms folded. “I guess.”
Victoria turned back to the kids. “Our friend Jill over there is hurt. We could really use the medkit that’s inside the cabinet. So could you please, just let me borrow the key for a quick second.”
Uriel and Jonna exchanged gazed once more. “Give it to her.” Uriel opinioned.
“Are you sure? We don’t know these people.” Jonna remarked.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s help that injured woman.” Uriel insisted, pointing his finger at Jill.
Jonna looked down, as he fished into the pocket of his shorts and extracted a key. “Okay. But just you. Not Rambo over there. Also, we get all of the guns.”
“Uh…yeah. I guess.” Victoria agreed to their conditions with some reluctance. She wasn’t sure that arming children was the best idea.
Jonna marched over to the cabinet, followed by Victoria and Uriel. He slipped the key into the slot and twisted it, before opening the case. “Open, sesame.”
Jonna took out the medkit and passed it to Victoria, who sprinted towards Jill to fix her up. Uriel grabbed two Glocks and stored them in his belt, whilst Jonna took the other. Jonna tried to pick up one of the M4, but was overwhelmed by the weight.
“Geez!” Jonna exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. “We’re not gonna be able to haul this back to the institution.”
Victoria noticed what the two kids were saying. “Maybe we should go with the kids.”
“What?!” Anson blurted out, straightening his posture. Even Jonna and Uriel seemed surprised.
“They need our help, Anson.” Victoria asserted with a sharp look. “We could take the weapons back to their institution. Help them protect themselves and maybe teach them to use the guns properly.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. While introducing the last few characters, I’ve tried to come up with nicknames for the zombies, since not everyone is gonna call them walkers. I had Don call them ‘feasters’ and Uriel call them ‘deadies’. Just for fun, what names do you think survivors would call the walkers?
Have to say, after that part I start to like Oliver a bit more again. When he suggested to leave a severely injured Jill and an unconscious Anson I was quite angry at him, but he seems to realize his mistake, which is good.
Just for fun, what names do you think survivors would call the walkers?
Since Zombie is not a term in The Walking Dead as far as I know, I think 'Rotters' or 'Corpses' or 'Biters' could be terms some survivors could come up with.
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Matt
Matt leaned his right cheek against his fist, with his head… more almost touching the window. Since it was hell on the planet, Don was both free and glad to be able to drive at over sixty miles per hour. The trees passed by and vanished in the form of brown and green blurs. Matt listened to the feeble sound of the pickup lifting dust on its passage and the occasional food cans bumping into each other.
Matt wondered what the heck he was gonna do now. Don seemed content of the plan to just drive and drive, but Matt needed something concrete. His thoughts were dazzled, and right now a sensation of being lost crumbled upon him. He thought about finding his parents. But how would he do that? He began forgetting about that possibility. His parents were long gone. It was just him.
Don stared at the road with a smirk. Nothing pleased him more than the open road.
“Ain’… [view original content]
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Matt
Matt leaned his right cheek against his fist, with his head… more almost touching the window. Since it was hell on the planet, Don was both free and glad to be able to drive at over sixty miles per hour. The trees passed by and vanished in the form of brown and green blurs. Matt listened to the feeble sound of the pickup lifting dust on its passage and the occasional food cans bumping into each other.
Matt wondered what the heck he was gonna do now. Don seemed content of the plan to just drive and drive, but Matt needed something concrete. His thoughts were dazzled, and right now a sensation of being lost crumbled upon him. He thought about finding his parents. But how would he do that? He began forgetting about that possibility. His parents were long gone. It was just him.
Don stared at the road with a smirk. Nothing pleased him more than the open road.
“Ain’… [view original content]
Actually, zombie is an existing word in The Walking Dead. Glenn said it once or twice in the comics. Robert Kirkman has explained that the reason the term 'zombie' isn't used more often is because George A. Romero's films don't exist in their universe. And if it weren't for Romero, the zombie genre probably wouldn't exist nowadays.
Have to say, after that part I start to like Oliver a bit more again. When he suggested to leave a severely injured Jill and an unconscious … moreAnson I was quite angry at him, but he seems to realize his mistake, which is good.
Just for fun, what names do you think survivors would call the walkers?
Since Zombie is not a term in The Walking Dead as far as I know, I think 'Rotters' or 'Corpses' or 'Biters' could be terms some survivors could come up with.
Cool names, I especially like the Demon one. I was writing a short story about survivors struggling to live in a zone where it snowed all the time, and they called the zombies 'Snowmen' or 'Ice-creams' since they were always covered in snow.
Awesome Chapter! URIEL BTW
Just for fun, what names do you think survivors would call the walkers?
Eaters , Demons (for the religious) , Fuckers , Fleshers.
Cool names, I especially like the Demon one. I was writing a short story about survivors struggling to live in a zone where it snowed all the time, and they called the zombies 'Snowmen' or 'Ice-creams' since they were always covered in snow.
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – East Loading Bay. Night 4
Steve
[EAT THE FOOD]
Steve sat against the wall, holding the plate with one hand and grabbing spoons of beans with the other. The beans tasted rather good, and man, did they feel a spot. Steve thought that if they went through the trouble of capturing him and keeping him alive, they wouldn’t kill him by food poisoning.
His head snapped to the side when he heard the door’s lock mechanism open. He set his plate aside and used the wall as a guide to stand up. The door opened.
“You got company.” Tina said, but Steve didn’t see her from the angle he was standing in.
He jumped back when Tina shoved Bianca and Victor inside the room. At first, he thought that Tina had sent walkers into the room, but then he heard Victor yell a clear ‘fuck’. And the walkers don’t talk.
“Put me down, put me down…” Victor repeated in a stammer. Bianca let go and leaned him against the wall. Victor slid down the wall to a sitting position.
“Hey, who are…”
Bianca shrieked and hopped in a startle, before spinning around and landing a punch on Steve’s face. Steve staggered backwards and clutched his nose.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” Steve exclaimed in pain. He removed his hand from his nose bridge and was glad to see that there wasn’t any blood.
“Who’s there?!” Victor asked, in a firm yet wobbly voice.
“Hey, I don’t mean no harm.” Steve said. “We’re on the same boat.”
“Geez, you scared the shit out of me.” Bianca complained.
“Yeah. Whatever. Who are you guys?” Steve inquired.
“Victor…Bianca…” Victor introduced themselves really quick.
“Steve.” The man replied. “You okay? I can tell you ain’t too good.”
“Tina shot me in the leg.” Victor explained.
“Is it bleeding?” Steve asked, walking around in the darkness.
“It slowed down, but it’s still bleeding.” Victor told him between teeth. “The bullet’s still lodged in there. I guess it’s patchin’ up a few blood vessels.”
Steve took off his leather jacket, revealing a blue shirt, wrapped it on itself to make a thick piece of cloth, and then compressed it against Victor’s wound, who grimaced but was used to the pain by now.
“We’re gonna get outta here. Eventually.” Steve muttered.
Atlanta, Child Institution. Morning 5.
Victoria
Victoria rubbed her eyes with vigor. They had been walking all night long, and she only had a few minutes of shut-eye before the pub was engulfed in flames. She could see that the sun was about to crack, yet she had to constantly blink to keep her eyes open and to clean away blurs emerging in her vision.
She remembered the times before the dead. She always liked to go to bed late and wake up soon as the morning rooster. She remembered how she always took that warm cup of coffee that she drank at seven a.m. to help her keep energetic throughout her day. She really needed some caffeine because she just felt exhausted.
Uriel and Jonna led them through a lateral road, pushing away from the center of Atlanta into a zone with reduced civilization density. Jill now walked on her own and had her wound all bandaged, however she had to clutch her arm since it was too painful to leave it dangling.
Anson hauled with an austere expression the two M4s, often releasing a groan or two.
“Here we are.” Uriel indicated, jabbing his finger towards the building situated beside the road.
The first thing Victoria noticed was a cement wall surrounding the entire building, that reached the height of their heads. It was a useful defense to have, since the walkers would never be able to climb over that. The institution was a two-story building. The years of bad use and degradation were visible; the paint in its walls was peeling off like a crust and the institution was surrounded by straws of messy ivy.
“First thing I go in, I’m just gonna drop.” Jonna said, followed by a yawn.
As they approached the front gate, they saw a teenager walking down a gravel path through the front yard towards them. His tall stance, shredded eyes and short black hair reminded Jill of Bruce Lee.
“Hello.” Victoria said.
“Uh…who the hell are these guys, Uriel?” Leon mumbled to the older kid.
“They…came to help us bring the guns. We couldn’t haul them.” Uriel whispered.
“Okay…come in.” Leon said in an awkward manner, opening the gate for them.
Uriel and Jonna entered first, before Victoria and her group went in. Once they had passed, Leon shut the gate and followed them from behind.
“So who are you guys?” Leon asked.
“I’m Victoria. That’s Jill and Anson.” Victoria introduced themselves.
“Cool. I’m Leon.” Leon said. “Thanks for bringing the guns for us, Anson.”
“Yeah…you’re welcome.” Anson said, rolling his eyes.
“Did you guys walk all night?”
“Yes, we did.” Victoria told him.
“There’s an empty room upstairs.” Leon admitted. “If you want, you guys can rest there and when you wake up I’ll introduce you to this place.”
**Atlanta, Off-Side Road. Afternoon 5. **
Matt
Road. Road. And more road. Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. They had spent hours driving through some countryside path that was leading them fucking nowhere. He had his grief and thoughts about his dead friend to occupy him, but even his boredom seemed to stomp over that.
“Where are we going?” Matt inquired.
“I already told you.” Don said.
“Yeah, but I was thinking. Maybe we could go to Atlanta.” Matt proposed. He didn’t think that anything else in the world would heal him better than finding his parents. However he knew that that excuse wouldn’t work and had to slip another argument into his reasoning. “The military must be there. They usually protect the bigger cities and all.”
Don released a sound of reflection. He scratched his chin with one hand and elevated an eyebrow. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
Matt smiled internally, as he reclined more comfortably in his seat. It was of no use though, his butt-cheeks still felt numb. Don picked up his bottle of whisky and took a large gulp, keeping his eyes locked on the road.
Matt noticed it, which preoccupied him a bit. “Is drunk driving a good option?”
“Pfft.” Don snorted. “Please! It’s not like the cops’re around to bill me a DUI. Freaking hell, kid, stop being so uptight. I can take alcohol better than an angry Irish man.”
Don proved his statement by taking another sip. Matt didn’t say anything else. It’s not like he could do anything.
“Let’s stop the car for a bit and fill up.” Don blurted out, parking on the side of the road.
A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I didn’t have the time to make it longer. I was busy working with other projects as well so that didn’t help. Thanks for reading and see you in the next chapter!
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – East Loading Bay. Night… more 4
Steve
[EAT THE FOOD]
Steve sat against the wall, holding the plate with one hand and grabbing spoons of beans with the other. The beans tasted rather good, and man, did they feel a spot. Steve thought that if they went through the trouble of capturing him and keeping him alive, they wouldn’t kill him by food poisoning.
His head snapped to the side when he heard the door’s lock mechanism open. He set his plate aside and used the wall as a guide to stand up. The door opened.
“You got company.” Tina said, but Steve didn’t see her from the angle he was standing in.
He jumped back when Tina shoved Bianca and Victor inside the room. At first, he thought that Tina had sent walkers into the room, but then he heard Victor yell a clear ‘fuck’. And the walkers don’t talk.
“Put me down, put me… [view original content]
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Storage Room. Night 4
Bianca
Bianca leaned against one of the invisible walls, with her arms crossed. There wasn’t much to do. All she did was wait and wait. For something to happen. Or for an idea about an escape to zap into her mind.
Steve had done a tourniquet with his coat around Victor’s leg, and it seemed to be working quite nice. The bleeding was stanched and the thick cloth didn’t allow any blood to secrete.
“Who are you?” Steve asked. “I mean, what’s your story?”
Victor gave Steve an anguished glance. “R-really? You wanna do this right now?”
Steve lowered his head and scratched his neck. “I was just asking ‘cause…it seems like we’re gonna be caged in here for a while.”
“We’ll do our introductions once we get outta here.” Victor mumbled. “Let’s focus on bustin’ outta here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.” Steve agreed immediately, nodding.
“You know anything about this place or what these psychos want?” Bianca demanded, almost as if Steve was one of their captors.
“No, not really.” Steve denied. “I was knocked out before I got here. What about you?”
“We got a glimpse of this place’s layout.” Victor said. “Just of the main entrance and a few adjacent hallways though.”
As he finished their sentence, they heard the door’s bolt creaking open. They snapped their heads towards it and as it opened, they saw the silhouette of the priest, accompanied by Luis and George.
Steve and Victor got up as fast as they could, Victor having more difficulty. They knew that the situation could get bad at any moment and they preferred to be able to defend themselves if they were attacked.
“C’mon, Norman, make your pick.” George insisted.
The priest hummed and pinched his chin, before his gaze fell upon Bianca. He inspected her orange prison uniform and seemed dumbstruck by it. “Her. Take the other two too.”
“What?! What is this?!” Bianca exclaimed, recoiling backwards.
“We take all of them? You’re ambitious today, Norm.” George remarked with a grin.
Luis pulled out his rifle and aimed it at her. “We can do this the easy or the hard way. You choose.”
Bianca felt like running away but she knew that it would impossible within those four walls. With some reluctance, she braked and walked in their direction, a feeling in her gut stabbing her due to the uncertainty of what they would do with her. Victor and Steve followed suit.
George had three black bags in his hands. Before Bianca could realize it, George had shoved the bag onto her head. She made muffled sounds and groans as the bag suppressed her senses. Luis pushed her along the path and she began strolling in a blind direction, with Luis instructing her where to go. She understood that they were doing that so that she wouldn’t know how the place was from the interior.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Break Room. Night 4.
Oliver
“You still mad at me?” Oliver asked like a hurt puppy.
Andrey sighed and looked away. “’Course I’m pissed. Not at you though.”
“At who?” Oliver asked with a sense of surprise.
“At these psychos.” Andrey confessed, lowering his head. “At me. I let myself get caught so easily…”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Oliver consoled him. “You were overwhelmed. It happens.”
Andrey chuckled. “Y’know, when I was five, my dad used to drunk-fight me. I almost went blind, got a lotta bruises, dislocated a shoulder…but it taught me to defend myself. If that asshole was still alive, he’d probably be shouting at me that I was an embarrassment.”
“C’mon. You were five, and you can’t expect to win every fight.” Oliver told him.
“I’m just worried sick ‘bout Jill.” Andrey admitted.
Oliver exhaled and shut his eyes as he felt the shame flush through his body. “Yeah…me too.”
Atlanta, Outskirts. Afternoon 5.
Matt
Matt and Don sat in a clearing in the woods. There wasn’t much happening. The wildlife had vanished and no walkers were nearby. Don ate a can of sliced pineapple whilst Matt quenched his hunger with canned apple. Only now he was realizing that he was hungry and it felt nice to just have a calm meal.
“Have you ever been to France, Matt?” Don asked with a simper.
Matt shrugged. “No.”
“Really? Never seen la tour Eiffel? Le louvre?” Don insisted, mixing French words in his sentence.
“Nope.” Matt said in a blunt manner, his eyes down and focused on the meal.
“Well, it’s a damned shame you haven’t.” Don stated. “I don’t know if you like art, but the Louvre is simply a fucking amazing place for that. Also, the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower is magnificent. Fantastique!”
“If you say so. Art, painting and all that stuff, isn’t really my thing. My parents liked that though…” Matt disclosed. The mention of his parents made his heart tightened, and he swallowed a slice of apple in a gesture to swallow his sorrows. That’s when he realized something: he said ‘liked’ instead of ‘like’.
“Culture, man. Culture. How do you think is a typical French dude?” Don inquired, but by his smug look, it seemed like he already knew Matt’s answer.
Matt rolled his eyes in a thoughtful manner. The first thing that came to mind was the stereotype that he had always imagined a French guy. “I dunno. A dude who speaks with a fancy accent, wears a beret, drinks wine and eats a baguette and paints ladies for a living?”
Don chuckled with a full grin. “The only thing you were right about was the baguette and wine.”
“How so?” Matt enquired. He felt a bit intrigued knowing more about the country that everyone desired to visit.
“There are a lotta foreigners in France.” Don informed. His eyes that stared at nothingness showed that he was remembering good times from his country. “Seriously, I bet there are more Algerians and Portuguese than French in that country. Also, we suck at grammar.”
Matt smirked and snorted. He was almost instantly with a feeling of guilt. An image flashed before his eyes, in which he saw Billy’s head imploding as he shot himself. Those gruesome images of the geyser of blood and skull fragments made him frown and close his eyes. He bent his back and twitched his head. He scratched his mind with his palm with rapidity, like he tried to erase those wicked memories.
You’ll make it…but I won’t…
You were gonna shoot me!
They say that the cops are investigating cases of maulings caused by walking corpses. Crazy, uh?
I wanna find my family, Billy. Know if they’re okay.
They’re probably dead like mine! So get over it!
“Hey, Matt…” Don called out. Matt was broken out of his spell. He opened his eyes and raised his head as he straightened his back. Don looked at him with peeled eyelids, like he had just seen an exorcism. “Are you…okay? You were a bit…bizarre for a few seconds there…”
Matt stared at Don, not batting an eyelid, frozen as he didn’t know what to say. He just gaped down at his can and kept eating. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s ‘cause of your friend, right?” Don guessed.
“No, no, no…it’s nothing.” Matt reassured, shifting his attention elsewhere.
“Yeah, yeah…and Abraham Lincoln wasn't an asshole.” Don said in a sarcastic manner. “You lie worse than my senile grandmother. You know what you need? Have some fun.”
Don set down his can before he marched towards the truck. “Hey, what’re you doing?” Matt asked, finishing his meal and setting down his can before he stood up.
“Surprise, mon pote.” Don said, opening the back door and rummaging through their supplies.
Matt stood there, eager to know what Don was planning. After a few seconds, he pulled out the two Marlin .22 and tossed one at Matt. Matt flailed his arms and caught it but in a sloppy manner. “You’re gonna learn how to shoot.”
Matt grabbed the rifle in a proper manner. “What? I’m not sure if I…”
“’Course you can!” Don cut him off, pulling the bolt on the rifle and checking the chamber. “See what I did there? These guns are bolt-action. One bullet at a time. Make ‘em count.”
Matt tried to pull the bolt, but it didn’t budge. It appeared to be stuck on something. Don walked up to him and gave the bolt a special twist, then pulled it. The bolt slid out and the chamber opened easily. “You gotta give it that gentle twist.”
Matt smirked. “Okay, thanks.”
Matt shoved the bolt to close the chamber. Don elevated the gun and butted the stock against his shoulder. “This is how you grab the gun. Look down the sights to aim. Careful not to put it too close to your eye. The recoil’s a bitch, and I would recommend keeping your eyes away unless you wanna lose ‘em.”
Matt tried to position the weapon like Don. It was a bit heavy, but he would get used to it. Plus, he had sufficient muscles to resemble a NFL player so it wasn’t a hard task for him. “I got it.”
“Wow, kid, you got the power!” Don said with the intonation of He-Man, before releasing a chuckle. “Okay, now we gotta find ourselves a target.”
“Such as what?” Matt asked, lowering his gun to rest his arms.
“Hey, you sons of bitches!” Don yelled at the top of his lungs. “Any deadies around there! Dinner bell! Come get me, putain!”
“Ssh! What’re you doing?!” Matt demanded in a mumble.
“Getting us targets.” Don said, shrugging. “Now we wait.”
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Rooftop. Night 4.
Bianca
The bag was yanked out of Bianca’s head. Bianca was on her knees, her hands restrained behind her back. She panted heavily as the bag was beginning to smother her.
She regained her senses. She looked to both of her sides and saw Steve and Victor, who were in the same position as her. The three of them were lined up. Norman walked along them and pulled the bags off their heads too.
Bianca straightened her head and looked in front of her. Her face froze as she saw rows of candles surrounding the rooftop they were in. All of them gave the dark night an eerie, red glow. A metallic tray stood in the corner of the roof, which contained several surgical tools. Luis viewed them from behind, while George waited in front of them. Norman joined him once he was done taking the bags from their heads.
“What the fuck is this?!” Bianca demanded.
George looked at Bianca with a chuckle. "This? This is the end of times. And the demonstration of our faith."
A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it and remember to say what you thought about this chapter. This time, I didn’t write about Victoria’s storyline because I’m still working out how that arc will work.
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Storage Room. Night 4
… more Bianca
Bianca leaned against one of the invisible walls, with her arms crossed. There wasn’t much to do. All she did was wait and wait. For something to happen. Or for an idea about an escape to zap into her mind.
Steve had done a tourniquet with his coat around Victor’s leg, and it seemed to be working quite nice. The bleeding was stanched and the thick cloth didn’t allow any blood to secrete.
“Who are you?” Steve asked. “I mean, what’s your story?”
Victor gave Steve an anguished glance. “R-really? You wanna do this right now?”
Steve lowered his head and scratched his neck. “I was just asking ‘cause…it seems like we’re gonna be caged in here for a while.”
“We’ll do our introductions once we get outta here.” Victor mumbled. “Let’s focus on bustin’ outta here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.” St… [view original content]
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Storage Room. Night 4
… more Bianca
Bianca leaned against one of the invisible walls, with her arms crossed. There wasn’t much to do. All she did was wait and wait. For something to happen. Or for an idea about an escape to zap into her mind.
Steve had done a tourniquet with his coat around Victor’s leg, and it seemed to be working quite nice. The bleeding was stanched and the thick cloth didn’t allow any blood to secrete.
“Who are you?” Steve asked. “I mean, what’s your story?”
Victor gave Steve an anguished glance. “R-really? You wanna do this right now?”
Steve lowered his head and scratched his neck. “I was just asking ‘cause…it seems like we’re gonna be caged in here for a while.”
“We’ll do our introductions once we get outta here.” Victor mumbled. “Let’s focus on bustin’ outta here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.” St… [view original content]
Oh my God, I thought everyone had already forgotten about this yet.
First of all, I'm terribly sorry for keeping you guys in the dark, but this story has been cancelled. The reason being, when I started this, I was so excited about it that I drove right into it, without planning the story out for the long haul. So as the story progressed, I had no idea what would happen and wasn't able to build to a satisfying finale, just shoving forced plot points in the story to keep it running, breaking character on more than just one occasion.
I'm not sure if you'll ever forgive me for just disappearing. I could start another story (one that wouldn't have such huge hiatus), but I don't know if you'd still support me.
Whatever happens, thanks to all the people who submitted characters and read the story so far. Sorry for existing and being such a d-bag.
Hey, it's great to see you here I already suspected that the story has been cancelled, even though I still had a bit of hope that it would continue. I liked the story so far, but I definitely understand your reason for cancelling it. That said, if you want to start a new story, I would support you without any doubt. Your writing is great and I am sure that I'm going to like this new story. So yeah, I'd definitely be interested in a new story
Oh my God, I thought everyone had already forgotten about this yet.
First of all, I'm terribly sorry for keeping you guys in the dark, but … morethis story has been cancelled. The reason being, when I started this, I was so excited about it that I drove right into it, without planning the story out for the long haul. So as the story progressed, I had no idea what would happen and wasn't able to build to a satisfying finale, just shoving forced plot points in the story to keep it running, breaking character on more than just one occasion.
I'm not sure if you'll ever forgive me for just disappearing. I could start another story (one that wouldn't have such huge hiatus), but I don't know if you'd still support me.
Whatever happens, thanks to all the people who submitted characters and read the story so far. Sorry for existing and being such a d-bag.
Thanks a lot for your reply! I was kind of expecting to be bashed for not saying a word for a while now (which would be totally justified) but I was glad to see you were okay, so thank you very much. I'll give you a heads up once it starts. If there are any characters from this story that you'd like to keep for the next story, you can list them so you don't have to fill out another form.
Hey, it's great to see you here I already suspected that the story has been cancelled, even though I still had a bit of hope that it would … morecontinue. I liked the story so far, but I definitely understand your reason for cancelling it. That said, if you want to start a new story, I would support you without any doubt. Your writing is great and I am sure that I'm going to like this new story. So yeah, I'd definitely be interested in a new story
Hey, as much as I'm sad about this not continuing, I understand your reasons for cancelling it. No need to drag it on when you have no idea where it's going. :P If you start another story, I'll be sure to check it out.
Oh my God, I thought everyone had already forgotten about this yet.
First of all, I'm terribly sorry for keeping you guys in the dark, but … morethis story has been cancelled. The reason being, when I started this, I was so excited about it that I drove right into it, without planning the story out for the long haul. So as the story progressed, I had no idea what would happen and wasn't able to build to a satisfying finale, just shoving forced plot points in the story to keep it running, breaking character on more than just one occasion.
I'm not sure if you'll ever forgive me for just disappearing. I could start another story (one that wouldn't have such huge hiatus), but I don't know if you'd still support me.
Whatever happens, thanks to all the people who submitted characters and read the story so far. Sorry for existing and being such a d-bag.
Hey, thanks a lot for being supportive even after I was such an asshole. Listen, if you submitted characters for this story and want them to appear in the next story, just list them and I'll take care of it.
Hey, as much as I'm sad about this not continuing, I understand your reasons for cancelling it. No need to drag it on when you have no idea where it's going. :P If you start another story, I'll be sure to check it out.
Hey, thanks a lot for being supportive even after I was such an asshole. Listen, if you submitted characters for this story and want them to appear in the next story, just list them and I'll take care of it.
Alright guys, so my new story has just started! It's is titled "The Walking Dead: Nebraska", and can be found in the forum game section.
There are two main differences from this story: first, there is a protagonist, which is something I believe neglected. Second, there won't be multiple POVs, rather just the omniscient third person that focuses on a group of people specifically.
I repeat, if you had characters from this story you'd like to keep, just list them in a reply to this comment. I hope we will embark on a new and better adventure with the new fanfic!
I think I'm going to create new characters. While I like Jill and Victor, it has been so long since I wrote them and I think I will have more fun writing new characters. I already have an idea and I'm going to submit them later today or tomorrow By the way, would you be okay if I advertise your new story a little bit in my story? I like to do that from time to time, when a new story starts. That could help getting you a few more readers
Thanks a lot for your reply! I was kind of expecting to be bashed for not saying a word for a while now (which would be totally justified) b… moreut I was glad to see you were okay, so thank you very much. I'll give you a heads up once it starts. If there are any characters from this story that you'd like to keep for the next story, you can list them so you don't have to fill out another form.
I think I'm going to create new characters. While I like Jill and Victor, it has been so long since I wrote them and I think I will have mor… moree fun writing new characters. I already have an idea and I'm going to submit them later today or tomorrow By the way, would you be okay if I advertise your new story a little bit in my story? I like to do that from time to time, when a new story starts. That could help getting you a few more readers
Thats awesome and I will follow this new story for sure. I would like to keep Jeffrey for the new story, if you want to use him but will also submit a new character for it soon.
Alright guys, so my new story has just started! It's is titled "The Walking Dead: Nebraska", and can be found in the forum game section.
… moreThere are two main differences from this story: first, there is a protagonist, which is something I believe neglected. Second, there won't be multiple POVs, rather just the omniscient third person that focuses on a group of people specifically.
I repeat, if you had characters from this story you'd like to keep, just list them in a reply to this comment. I hope we will embark on a new and better adventure with the new fanfic!
Comments
[EAT THE FOOD]
They went to the trouble of locking him up and kidnapping him, so I don't think they're going to kill him just yet and at least not by poison.
I'd have to say my favorite characters is Matt. His story has been mentally brutal on him and I'm extremely interested in how he pulls through.
Are you telling me to kill Tina or having Tina to kill Victor and Bianca?
Both :P
Evil laugh
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Alleyway. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver’s lungs began drawing breaths as his heart raced. Oliver ran down the alleyway, just thinking about getting to Andrey. He was so focused that it was the single thought coursing through his mind. He couldn’t see the stalker, probably because he had already left from the opposite side. The alley was dark and grimy, having only a few stinky dumpsters cramming the narrow space.
As Oliver dashed past one of the dumpsters, a figure popped out from behind it and tackled Oliver. Oliver, taken by surprise, couldn’t react and was thrown against the wall. He felt a pain concussing his cranium as he struck the wall. The momentum of the tackle sent Oliver onto the ground.
“Dammit!” Oliver grunted, knowing that he was now at the mercy of the man. The last thing he sensed was the man’s boot kicking his head, relaying Oliver into a void of unconsciousness.
Atlanta, House In The Forest. Night 4.
Matt
Matt looked away and chewed his thumbnail with conviction while Don wrapped Billy’s corpse into a blanket they’d picked up from one of the bedrooms. Matt flinched and squeezed his fists at every sound of the dead flesh being flipped over, the sound of crusted blood crisping, the tissue of the blanket wrapping around Billy.
Once Don had the body wrapped onto a cylinder like a taco, he scrubbed his hands against one other, like if it was just another job well done. He noticed the fallen Marlin .22 along with the second one lingering in the corner and he picked them up, contemplating and admiring the weapons, before he slung both of them on his shoulder.
Matt turned around with the air of being upset. “Could you please…not act like Billy’s just some…dead corpse?”
“What?” Don said, turning his face towards Matt. “Oh, yeah…sorry about that. I think we should probably bury him at sun-up. There are still a buncha feasters out there.”
“How did you get here then?” Matt asked in a suspicious tone. He didn’t know this man and he had to question every word he said to make sure he was trustworthy.
“I barely did. I left my pickup at the side of a dirt road and came running towards here.” He explained.
“So…at first light…we give him the proper burial.” Matt affirmed.
“That’s the plan.” Don reasserted with a nod. “Shall we hit the hay then?”
Atlanta, Red Target. Night 4.
Anson
Anson entered the office. It wasn’t that much of a big deal. It consisted of a simple desk in the middle, accompanied by a holed chair and a non-functioning computer. Dyads of file cabinets stretched along the walls. A tall closet was situated in the rim of the bureau. What caught Anson’s attention was a board riveted into the wall, that contained myriads of keys. All of the keys were present, except for one.
Anson advanced towards the key board. They all had labels above each one, indicating their use. He frowned his eyebrows as he saw that the ‘FRONT CABINET’ key was missing.
Anson rubbed his chin. Why would someone take the key but not take the guns? The same question resounded in his brain. Something was weird.
But when Anson turned around to go back to Victoria, he froze once he saw both of the closet doors open, and two kids were standing by the door, brandishing guns towards him.
“Don’t move!” One of the kids threatened, giving his gun a jar. The boy was pale and had needle black hair, making him look like a sinister youngster. Anson estimated he couldn’t be more than ten years old.
The second kid seemed a bit more mature. He was of Argentinian ethnicity and had expressive brown eyes. His t-shirt bore an ironic message nowadays, ‘Loving Dead’.
“Calm down with that gun, Jonna.” The Argentinian kid whispered to the other in a harsh tone.
“Don’t take your eyes off him! You’re lowering your guard, Uriel.” Jonna mumbled back.
Anson was in a loss for words. Never in his life he believed he would be held at gunpoint by two children. It was almost a twisted version of David vs. Goliath.
“Look, kids…” Anson said, taking a step forward.
Jonna narrowed his gaze and focused his aim. “Don’t come any nearer!”
Anson slightly raised his arms, not knowing what else to do. “I gotta say…you guys have balls by doing this. You really do.”
“Whatever.” Jonna shrugged in an uncaring tone. “We were here first. The guns are ours. Leave the shop, and you might leave unscathed.”
Anson grinned at that threat, making Jonna even more pissed. “Really? Are you sure that those guns belong to you?”
Anson took another step, which Jonna immediately remarked. “Stop!”
Anson kept walking. “I mean…you’re not gonna kill me. You’re just a pissing little brat. I’m a grown man.” Anson was now just a step away from Jonna. Jonna had his hands that shook in a quick spasm. “Also…the safety on your gun is activated.”
In a sudden move, Anson swooped his arm and took the gun right from his hands. He then glimpsed at Uriel, who was trembling, with a creepy smile. “Also, I bet all my pennies that you forgot to load a bullet into the chamber.”
Atlanta, House In The Forest. Morning 5.
Matt
The shy sun began rising its way above the distant mountains, painting the sky in a pale morning color. The cold from the night had persisted, and despite the appearance of the sun, the breeze still swept the region and the plants and trees had glaze dangling from their leaves.
The night had been a living hell for Matt. Not because of the temperatures, but because of his intense emotions. He’d spent from dusk to sun-up curled into a ball in the living room, gazing out the window into the bright moon, crying his eyes off. A night of torment, anguish and turmoil.
Matt and Don stood outside the manor, with shovels at hand. Their broad blades were covered in humid dirt, and the duo looked down at the freshly-dug grave. It had took them about half an hour to dig it, place the body inside, and then put the dirt back again.
“You gonna say some words or what?” Don said in a flat manner, his jaws drubbing against each other. “It’s freezing cold out here.”
“I…” Matt began talking. He wanted to say what he had in his heart. He wanted to say that Billy was the greatest guy he’d even met, how he defended him when he was framed of breaking a window at school, how he had such fond memories of one another. How it was this world that changed him. But he was afraid that if he did so, he would breakdown once again.
“Fuckin’ hell man, get on with it.” Don insisted. Matt just ignored him and his selfish attitude. He could deduce by his tone that Don wasn’t the most touchy feeling guy.
“I can’t.” Matt declared. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Don said, walking inside the house with the shovel leaned on his shoulder.
Matt gave the grave a good, long stare, before following Don inside the house.
Matt followed Don into the kitchen. Don approached a row of counters and began opening them, releasing a sound of surprise as he saw a multitude of canned fruit, beans and vegetables. “Look at all this stuff! You got a backpack or something like that?”
Matt shifted his attention towards the bag laying in the corner. It was the one that he was going to use to escape. Matt marched towards and picked it up. “I got this one. But it’s already full.”
“Is there anything else of interest?” Don enquired, inspecting every drawer, inch and knot of the house. “Besides the food and the guns?”
“I don’t think so.” Matt replied.
“Well, shit.” Don profaned. “We’re just gonna have to carry as much cans we can in our arms and run to the truck.”
“The pickup, is it too far away?” Matt questioned, with his arms folded whilst chewing on his nail.
“No. Just hiding right out in the sticks.” Don informed, as he began pushing cans of food into his arms. “It’s gonna be a pain in the ass to carry these, but I just can’t leave all these goodies behind. So…get to loadin’!”
Matt rolled his eyes and strolled towards the cupboard, as he began hauling objects into his arms until the cupboard was empty.
“Alright, let’s go.” Don instructed with a smile. Those supplies had obviously made his day. “Run like hell and don’t let anything fall off your arms. Dodge any feasters, it’ll be hard to fight like this.”
Matt and Don spun around, directing themselves towards the back door. “Just run towards the woods, Matt. I’ll show you the way.”
The two stepped outside, and as they did so, they sprinted towards the forest. They kept a steady speed as to not let anything slip out of their grasp. The mass of trees wasn’t too far away, and when the two people entered the dense vegetation, Matt felt some kind of thorn shredding a piece of his trousers, but he just kept dashing along with the French man.
Don halted as he panted heavily. Matt stopped too, and noted a pickup right in front of them. It was a greenish one, that had a large rear enclosure along with two rows of seating in the front.
Don opened with difficulty the back door, and tossed the cans inside a duffel bag that he had in the vehicle. Matt did the same and deposited all of the heavy cans. Don slid the two guns off his shoulder and then threw them on the back seat. Matt noticed that the only thing Don had besides the things they had collected now was a bottle of whisky laying in a bottle holder between the two front seats.
Don shut the door and entered the driver’s seat. “C’mon, Matt. Don’t be left behind.”
Matt circled around the truck and entered the passenger’s seat, as Don fished a key-ring out his pocket and inserted the correct key in the ignition. As he switched the engine on, Matt was about to buckle his seat-belt, but Don stopped him by placing a hand on his chest.
“It’s the apocalypse, my friend!” He observed in an enthusiastic tone. “No rules or laws. No need for seat-belt.”
“What if we crash?” Matt conjectured.
“I’m not that much of a drunk driver.” Don reassured, putting the reverse gear on and backing up onto the nearest dirt road. The truck wobbled as it stomped over branches and thick foliage.
Matt shrugged and slung the seat-belt aside.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory. Night 4.
Bianca
The trio had been hiking through the woods for at least twenty minutes now. Tina kept her gun beamed at them at all times and scanned their surroundings every five seconds or so.
Bianca had a hard time hauling Victor and felt her shoulder becoming sore. Victor had managed to withstand the pain, and now he only drew a heavy breath whenever he gave a step, sometimes releasing a strangled whimper. What was more concerning was that Victor was colder and he was a bit pale. His pants were drenched in blood.
“Is it too far?” Bianca asked, glancing past her shoulder.
“It shouldn’t be.” Tina said. “Just focus on walking, will you?!”
Bianca frowned and twisted her mouth, as she looked back at her front. Victor hobbled and was always going up and down when it came to height.
“Bianca…B…Bianca…” Victor called out in a muffled whisper.
“What is it?” Bianca inquired with no emotion traversing her.
“Did you mean it?” He asked between incomprehensible stutters.
“What?” Bianca asked as she narrowed her eyelids in confusion.
“Were you…would you really have left me back there?” Victor questioned, with the miserable tone of a hurt puppy.
Bianca looked up to the sky, as if in pondering for the answer. “Yes.”
Victor elevated his eyebrows and he lowered his head. Just a few seconds after, Bianca saw the outline of the abandoned building drawing a few meters away from them.
“Here we are.” Tina stated.
The building consisted of a forsaken brick edifice that had a shape similar to a half-star. The fact that it had been deserted before the apocalypse was apparent due to the black, blanche and turquoise graffiti painted in every wall. The second story consisted of a row of windows, that were surprisingly not shattered.
As they approached the building, Tina smirked as she saw a police car parked outside the factory. She was happier to see George handcuffing two men: Oliver and Andrey.
Great chapter! Anson really grows on me. His interactions with Victoria are a bit creepy, but I can't deny his coolness in this chapter. Tina on the other hand continues to cement her position as my most hated character and I hope she dies in horrible agony. However, I am also pretty intrigued why her group abducts all these people
I'm glad to see that you notice Anson's creepiness, I was aiming for that.
It's true that for now, it's a mystery (for you guys at least) to why this group abduct people, but it will be explained soon.
OH MY GOD I NEED MOAR OF THIS PLS GUVE ME MORÉ I LOVE THIS STORY
Good to see you're liking the story a lot! It makes me even more motived to write it.
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Matt
Matt leaned his right cheek against his fist, with his head almost touching the window. Since it was hell on the planet, Don was both free and glad to be able to drive at over sixty miles per hour. The trees passed by and vanished in the form of brown and green blurs. Matt listened to the feeble sound of the pickup lifting dust on its passage and the occasional food cans bumping into each other.
Matt wondered what the heck he was gonna do now. Don seemed content of the plan to just drive and drive, but Matt needed something concrete. His thoughts were dazzled, and right now a sensation of being lost crumbled upon him. He thought about finding his parents. But how would he do that? He began forgetting about that possibility. His parents were long gone. It was just him.
Don stared at the road with a smirk. Nothing pleased him more than the open road.
“Ain’t it awesome?” Don said in a suave tone like he was a visionary. “It’s a feeling of freedom. Just you, your wheels, and the roads taking you on an adventure.”
Matt didn’t respond, he didn’t even budge. Don squeezed his lips, thinking of something. He wanted to animate the teenager who was all bummed out. Whilst keeping his eyes on the road, he used a spare hand to rummage through a multitude of CDs scattered across the dash.
He picked one in particular and inserted in the slot of the vehicle’s radio. “Oh yeah, baby. This one never gets old.”
Matt narrowed his eyebrows. He asked himself if loud music wouldn’t attract walkers to them. Matt had already his mouth open to prevent Don, but was interrupted when the blaring song blew through the speakers, making him hop in his seat out of a startle.
“Dun, dun, dun…dun dun dun, dun dun dun!” Don chanted along with the music. Matt recognized the rhythmic instrumental of the song. It was ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ by The Queen.
Matt reclined in his seat and folded his arms, followed by a gulp. He gazed out the window towards the forest that faded away by his side, but he didn’t see any walkers. Yet.
“C’mon, Matt, sing with me!” Don boasted,, the music muffling his voice, as he gave Matt a gentle push on his shoulder. Matt just gave him a sharp glare. “Another one bites the dust, yeah…and another one gone, another gone, another one bites the dust!”
Matt scrubbed his temples and released a frustrated groan. Looking to his left, he saw Don staring at him whilst casting his finger towards him.
“Hey! It’s gonna get you too! Another one bites the dust!” Don warbled, finishing his sentence by warping his lips and raising his head, howling like a wolf crying to the full moon. His out-of-tune voice reassured that Don wasn’t in the music business before.
Don stopped singing and glanced at Matt with a foolish smile. He was sad to see that his approach hadn’t cheered the teen up, who was now back in his usual position. Matt kept turning his head in all directions, fidgeting in his seat.
Don swapped to a bleaker expression and switched the music off.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory. Night 4.
Bianca
Tina approached George, forcing Victor and Bianca to stay close like they were leashed dogs.
“Jesus, yo, don’t string ‘em up too tight!” Oliver complained, his wrists being almost cut off from blood circulation due to his tight cuffs.
“Shut up.” George instructed. The African-American man had an austere expression, and despite the crucifix dangling from his neck, his physique similar to a tree log gave him an intimidating appearance. George sprang around and smiled once he laid eyes on Tina. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Hi George.” Tina said, returning the smirk.
“Well, well…it seems like you brought more lost souls into our community.” George observed, looking at Victor and Bianca.
“And you brought two more.” Tina remarked.
“Yes.” George said, with an even wider simper. “Five people in only one day. This couldn’t get any better.”
“Should we show ‘em around?” Tina asked.
“Let’s get them settled in.” George responded, shoving Oliver and Andrey towards the frontal broad wooden door of the abandoned factory. “Put the two you got in the same room as that individual. The one with the eyepatch and all.”
Tina nodded, as she walked up to the ample door. She inclined her body weight into the door, and let it slide along a rail as she pushed it open. The screech made Oliver flinch. In the meanwhile, George held the four prisoners at gunpoint.
When Tina had opened the door, they managed to get a first glimpse of the interior. The main room was a vast, vacant space, that was turned into a maze by a complex structure sticking out of the ground that was made of iron columns, poles and ladders leading to a higher platform that was near the ceiling.
“C’mon.” George indicated, aiming his gun towards the indoors.
Tina marched beside George and the two of them followed as Oliver, Andrey and Bianca supporting Victor entered the building. Once they were inside, Tina shut the door once again. Tina took possession of Victor and Bianca and departed in one direction, whilst George ambled in the other one.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Main Area. Night 4.
Andrey
Andrey glanced in all directions. He was already planning his escape. He essayed to memorize every corner of the facility, as if in he was trying to draw a blueprint in his mind. He was also aiming to know how many people inhabited the place.
As he walked, he spotted a lateral door that was open, and the room inside was adorned with benches, an altar and a cross with the image of a crucified Jesus nailed to the wall. Inside, there was a man donning the garments of a priest. He was a tall man, whose face was babied by his blond hair and turquoise eyes, but contradicted by a few wrinkles emerging in his visage, probably due to the man’s thirties.
He yanked his head towards the sky, and saw a Porto-Rican man marching along the higher platform with a sniper rifle in his arms.
“Through here.” George indicated, jabbing his gun towards a claustrophobic hallway. The passage was a dead-end, but at the tip of it, there was an old metal door. “Go into that room.”
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Old Staff Room. Night 4.
Oliver
Oliver heard a rusty sound as George slid the door’s bolt into place from the outside, locking them inside. They were now shut inside a dark room. George’s echoing footsteps were audible as he walked away from the cell.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Oliver said, opening his arms to give Andrey a hug, but his handcuffs stopped him.
“Fuckin’ rings a’ metal.” Andrey sputtered, looking down as his cuffs although he couldn’t see them in the darkness.
“Hey, we’re alive and together. It could be worse.” Oliver observed, looking on the bright side.
“What happened to the others?” Andrey asked.
Oliver lowered his head. “I…I don’t know. Our car crashed. I had to come running for you. I left ‘em…Victoria’s alive, that I know.”
“Jesus…and you just left them?!” Andrey criticized.
Oliver made an invisible frown. “Andrey, I wasn’t letting that asshole run off with you!”
“What the hell happened to Jill and Anson?” Andrey inquired, his voice molded by a hint of annoyance.
“They were passed out from the crash!” Oliver replied in a hurried pace.
“Fuck!” Andrey exclaimed, springing around and walking away from Oliver. He walked until he hit his face against the wall. “Shit!” He profaned, clutching his forehead.
“Fuck, I was only trying to get to you!” Oliver reasoned.
“I would’ve been fine.” Andrey hissed with a gorked glare. “I mean, I don’t give a shit about Anson, but you could’ve at the least stayed with Jill.”
Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but remained silent as he lowered his head in shame.
“She was in more danger than I was!” Andrey added. “You better hope she managed to get out.”
Atlanta, Red Target. Night 4.
Victoria
Victoria tore a piece of her cloth and compressed it against Jill’s wound. Her legs squirmed and she winced from the pain. “Does it hurt?”
“Of course it fuckin’ hurts!” Jill spat between teeth.
Victoria seemed offended by that response. “Sorry.”
Jill sighed. “No…I’m sorry. I mean…thanks. I’m just…it’s a pain in the ass.”
Victoria grinned. “Yeah.”
Out of the blue, Anson stormed into the room. Victoria jerked her head towards him, but was surprised to see him grasping two kids by their shoulders.
“These little shits were lurking out back.” Anson disclosed with a cold gaze, like a security guard reporting to his commanding officer.
Victoria wriggled her brows and stood up, whilst Jill tried to flick her eyes to see what was going on. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Who…who are you guys?” Victoria asked, ignoring Jill.
“It doesn’t matter.” Anson intervened. “They have the key to the cabinet, but they won’t give it to us.”
“They’re ours, you old coot!” Jonna affirmed. Despite his innocent and young age, along with his high-pitched, childish voice, he was sassy.
Anson growled and was about to give him a slap in the nape, but Victoria halted him. “Hey! Calm the fuck down! What’re you doing?!”
“What?! The brat insulted me.” Anson argued.
Victoria rolled her eyes, before kneeling down in front of the two boys. “Hey. I’m Victoria. What’re you called?”
Uriel and Jonna shared an unsecure look. “Uriel.”
“Jonna.”
“Cool.” Victoria said in a sweet tone. “Anson, let go of them.”
Anson emitted a wave of fire towards her with his eyes, but after some hesitation, he let them go and forced a fake smile. “Whatever you say, my dear.” He said in a calmer voice, setting the two boys free.
Victoria discretely shuddered with the affectionate name the man called her. “Look, kids, where are your parents?”
“We don’t have any.” Jonna claimed. His eyes darted back and forth due to Anson’s towering presence.
“Well, some of us do.” Uriel completed his sentence with a hint of sadness. “We live in an institution for kids. Some of us are orphans, others have parents but for some reason can’t live with them.”
Victoria frowned. This made things much more difficult for her. She wasn’t sure if her little dysfunctional group would be able to take care of two kids. “You guys…why aren’t you in your institution? Why’d you come here?”
“Why do you think we came here?” Jonna inquired in a sarcastic tone. “To get guns.”
Victoria was dumbstruck by their answer. It seemed something so crude and violent to be said by a ten year-old. “Uh…”
“You kids should keep your paws off your toys.” Anson reprimanded, illustrating by waving in the air the two guns he had taken from them. “You kids can’t even use these.”
“We weren’t planning on using them.” Uriel said, kicking the ground with the tip of his shoe. Uriel swooped away a bead of sweat skidding along his visage. “Our friend Leon is the one who really knows how to use them.”
“Leon? Who’s Leon?” Victoria quizzed in an inquisitive tone.
“He’s our leader.” Jonna stated. “He’s the older, so he’s been leading us.”
“Us? How many of you are there?! How old is Leon?” Anson demanded in a firm tone. He knew that if news ever got back to their leader that they had held two kids at gun-point, it could backfire on them.
Uriel pondered for a while, counting with his fingers. “Six, counting us. And chill, Leon is fifteen.”
Anson took a long breath from relief. Victoria was too puzzled about this information. It made her feel a bit anguished to know that there were young kids out there, surviving with nobody to watch over them, leading them to such measures.
“The woman that took care of us…a deadie ate her.” Uriel conveyed. His dragged sentences showed that he wasn’t sure if he should tell those people everything about them. He clutched his arm with his other hand in a defensive stance. “We were left alone. Leon though, with his sister Lee, helped us though. They barricaded the windows, and they rationed the food. They’re great to us, and to the younger ones, Lucas and Winston.”
Victoria took in the information with both horror and amazement. “Look…don’t worry about Anson here. He’s not gonna hurt you. Right?”
Anson shrugged with his arms folded. “I guess.”
Victoria turned back to the kids. “Our friend Jill over there is hurt. We could really use the medkit that’s inside the cabinet. So could you please, just let me borrow the key for a quick second.”
Uriel and Jonna exchanged gazed once more. “Give it to her.” Uriel opinioned.
“Are you sure? We don’t know these people.” Jonna remarked.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s help that injured woman.” Uriel insisted, pointing his finger at Jill.
Jonna looked down, as he fished into the pocket of his shorts and extracted a key. “Okay. But just you. Not Rambo over there. Also, we get all of the guns.”
“Uh…yeah. I guess.” Victoria agreed to their conditions with some reluctance. She wasn’t sure that arming children was the best idea.
Jonna marched over to the cabinet, followed by Victoria and Uriel. He slipped the key into the slot and twisted it, before opening the case. “Open, sesame.”
Jonna took out the medkit and passed it to Victoria, who sprinted towards Jill to fix her up. Uriel grabbed two Glocks and stored them in his belt, whilst Jonna took the other. Jonna tried to pick up one of the M4, but was overwhelmed by the weight.
“Geez!” Jonna exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. “We’re not gonna be able to haul this back to the institution.”
Victoria noticed what the two kids were saying. “Maybe we should go with the kids.”
“What?!” Anson blurted out, straightening his posture. Even Jonna and Uriel seemed surprised.
“They need our help, Anson.” Victoria asserted with a sharp look. “We could take the weapons back to their institution. Help them protect themselves and maybe teach them to use the guns properly.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. While introducing the last few characters, I’ve tried to come up with nicknames for the zombies, since not everyone is gonna call them walkers. I had Don call them ‘feasters’ and Uriel call them ‘deadies’. Just for fun, what names do you think survivors would call the walkers?
Have to say, after that part I start to like Oliver a bit more again. When he suggested to leave a severely injured Jill and an unconscious Anson I was quite angry at him, but he seems to realize his mistake, which is good.
Since Zombie is not a term in The Walking Dead as far as I know, I think 'Rotters' or 'Corpses' or 'Biters' could be terms some survivors could come up with.
Awesome Chapter! URIEL BTW
Eaters , Demons (for the religious) , Fuckers , Fleshers.
Actually, zombie is an existing word in The Walking Dead. Glenn said it once or twice in the comics. Robert Kirkman has explained that the reason the term 'zombie' isn't used more often is because George A. Romero's films don't exist in their universe. And if it weren't for Romero, the zombie genre probably wouldn't exist nowadays.
Cool names, I especially like the Demon one. I was writing a short story about survivors struggling to live in a zone where it snowed all the time, and they called the zombies 'Snowmen' or 'Ice-creams' since they were always covered in snow.
XD
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – East Loading Bay. Night 4
Steve
[EAT THE FOOD]
Steve sat against the wall, holding the plate with one hand and grabbing spoons of beans with the other. The beans tasted rather good, and man, did they feel a spot. Steve thought that if they went through the trouble of capturing him and keeping him alive, they wouldn’t kill him by food poisoning.
His head snapped to the side when he heard the door’s lock mechanism open. He set his plate aside and used the wall as a guide to stand up. The door opened.
“You got company.” Tina said, but Steve didn’t see her from the angle he was standing in.
He jumped back when Tina shoved Bianca and Victor inside the room. At first, he thought that Tina had sent walkers into the room, but then he heard Victor yell a clear ‘fuck’. And the walkers don’t talk.
“Put me down, put me down…” Victor repeated in a stammer. Bianca let go and leaned him against the wall. Victor slid down the wall to a sitting position.
“Hey, who are…”
Bianca shrieked and hopped in a startle, before spinning around and landing a punch on Steve’s face. Steve staggered backwards and clutched his nose.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” Steve exclaimed in pain. He removed his hand from his nose bridge and was glad to see that there wasn’t any blood.
“Who’s there?!” Victor asked, in a firm yet wobbly voice.
“Hey, I don’t mean no harm.” Steve said. “We’re on the same boat.”
“Geez, you scared the shit out of me.” Bianca complained.
“Yeah. Whatever. Who are you guys?” Steve inquired.
“Victor…Bianca…” Victor introduced themselves really quick.
“Steve.” The man replied. “You okay? I can tell you ain’t too good.”
“Tina shot me in the leg.” Victor explained.
“Is it bleeding?” Steve asked, walking around in the darkness.
“It slowed down, but it’s still bleeding.” Victor told him between teeth. “The bullet’s still lodged in there. I guess it’s patchin’ up a few blood vessels.”
Steve took off his leather jacket, revealing a blue shirt, wrapped it on itself to make a thick piece of cloth, and then compressed it against Victor’s wound, who grimaced but was used to the pain by now.
“We’re gonna get outta here. Eventually.” Steve muttered.
Atlanta, Child Institution. Morning 5.
Victoria
Victoria rubbed her eyes with vigor. They had been walking all night long, and she only had a few minutes of shut-eye before the pub was engulfed in flames. She could see that the sun was about to crack, yet she had to constantly blink to keep her eyes open and to clean away blurs emerging in her vision.
She remembered the times before the dead. She always liked to go to bed late and wake up soon as the morning rooster. She remembered how she always took that warm cup of coffee that she drank at seven a.m. to help her keep energetic throughout her day. She really needed some caffeine because she just felt exhausted.
Uriel and Jonna led them through a lateral road, pushing away from the center of Atlanta into a zone with reduced civilization density. Jill now walked on her own and had her wound all bandaged, however she had to clutch her arm since it was too painful to leave it dangling.
Anson hauled with an austere expression the two M4s, often releasing a groan or two.
“Here we are.” Uriel indicated, jabbing his finger towards the building situated beside the road.
The first thing Victoria noticed was a cement wall surrounding the entire building, that reached the height of their heads. It was a useful defense to have, since the walkers would never be able to climb over that. The institution was a two-story building. The years of bad use and degradation were visible; the paint in its walls was peeling off like a crust and the institution was surrounded by straws of messy ivy.
“First thing I go in, I’m just gonna drop.” Jonna said, followed by a yawn.
As they approached the front gate, they saw a teenager walking down a gravel path through the front yard towards them. His tall stance, shredded eyes and short black hair reminded Jill of Bruce Lee.
“Hello.” Victoria said.
“Uh…who the hell are these guys, Uriel?” Leon mumbled to the older kid.
“They…came to help us bring the guns. We couldn’t haul them.” Uriel whispered.
“Okay…come in.” Leon said in an awkward manner, opening the gate for them.
Uriel and Jonna entered first, before Victoria and her group went in. Once they had passed, Leon shut the gate and followed them from behind.
“So who are you guys?” Leon asked.
“I’m Victoria. That’s Jill and Anson.” Victoria introduced themselves.
“Cool. I’m Leon.” Leon said. “Thanks for bringing the guns for us, Anson.”
“Yeah…you’re welcome.” Anson said, rolling his eyes.
“Did you guys walk all night?”
“Yes, we did.” Victoria told him.
“There’s an empty room upstairs.” Leon admitted. “If you want, you guys can rest there and when you wake up I’ll introduce you to this place.”
**Atlanta, Off-Side Road. Afternoon 5. **
Matt
Road. Road. And more road. Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. They had spent hours driving through some countryside path that was leading them fucking nowhere. He had his grief and thoughts about his dead friend to occupy him, but even his boredom seemed to stomp over that.
“Where are we going?” Matt inquired.
“I already told you.” Don said.
“Yeah, but I was thinking. Maybe we could go to Atlanta.” Matt proposed. He didn’t think that anything else in the world would heal him better than finding his parents. However he knew that that excuse wouldn’t work and had to slip another argument into his reasoning. “The military must be there. They usually protect the bigger cities and all.”
Don released a sound of reflection. He scratched his chin with one hand and elevated an eyebrow. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
Matt smiled internally, as he reclined more comfortably in his seat. It was of no use though, his butt-cheeks still felt numb. Don picked up his bottle of whisky and took a large gulp, keeping his eyes locked on the road.
Matt noticed it, which preoccupied him a bit. “Is drunk driving a good option?”
“Pfft.” Don snorted. “Please! It’s not like the cops’re around to bill me a DUI. Freaking hell, kid, stop being so uptight. I can take alcohol better than an angry Irish man.”
Don proved his statement by taking another sip. Matt didn’t say anything else. It’s not like he could do anything.
“Let’s stop the car for a bit and fill up.” Don blurted out, parking on the side of the road.
A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I didn’t have the time to make it longer. I was busy working with other projects as well so that didn’t help. Thanks for reading and see you in the next chapter!
Awesome Part!
Thanks for reading! What do you think of Don up until now?
He is my character so i am a little biased by talking about him XD
Oh yeah, I totally forgot you were the one who submitted him! Nevermind then.
The Walking Dead: Life & Death | EPISODE 2 – Deliver Us From Evil
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Storage Room. Night 4
Bianca
Bianca leaned against one of the invisible walls, with her arms crossed. There wasn’t much to do. All she did was wait and wait. For something to happen. Or for an idea about an escape to zap into her mind.
Steve had done a tourniquet with his coat around Victor’s leg, and it seemed to be working quite nice. The bleeding was stanched and the thick cloth didn’t allow any blood to secrete.
“Who are you?” Steve asked. “I mean, what’s your story?”
Victor gave Steve an anguished glance. “R-really? You wanna do this right now?”
Steve lowered his head and scratched his neck. “I was just asking ‘cause…it seems like we’re gonna be caged in here for a while.”
“We’ll do our introductions once we get outta here.” Victor mumbled. “Let’s focus on bustin’ outta here.”
“Yeah, yeah. Right.” Steve agreed immediately, nodding.
“You know anything about this place or what these psychos want?” Bianca demanded, almost as if Steve was one of their captors.
“No, not really.” Steve denied. “I was knocked out before I got here. What about you?”
“We got a glimpse of this place’s layout.” Victor said. “Just of the main entrance and a few adjacent hallways though.”
As he finished their sentence, they heard the door’s bolt creaking open. They snapped their heads towards it and as it opened, they saw the silhouette of the priest, accompanied by Luis and George.
Steve and Victor got up as fast as they could, Victor having more difficulty. They knew that the situation could get bad at any moment and they preferred to be able to defend themselves if they were attacked.
“C’mon, Norman, make your pick.” George insisted.
The priest hummed and pinched his chin, before his gaze fell upon Bianca. He inspected her orange prison uniform and seemed dumbstruck by it. “Her. Take the other two too.”
“What?! What is this?!” Bianca exclaimed, recoiling backwards.
“We take all of them? You’re ambitious today, Norm.” George remarked with a grin.
Luis pulled out his rifle and aimed it at her. “We can do this the easy or the hard way. You choose.”
Bianca felt like running away but she knew that it would impossible within those four walls. With some reluctance, she braked and walked in their direction, a feeling in her gut stabbing her due to the uncertainty of what they would do with her. Victor and Steve followed suit.
George had three black bags in his hands. Before Bianca could realize it, George had shoved the bag onto her head. She made muffled sounds and groans as the bag suppressed her senses. Luis pushed her along the path and she began strolling in a blind direction, with Luis instructing her where to go. She understood that they were doing that so that she wouldn’t know how the place was from the interior.
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Break Room. Night 4.
Oliver
“You still mad at me?” Oliver asked like a hurt puppy.
Andrey sighed and looked away. “’Course I’m pissed. Not at you though.”
“At who?” Oliver asked with a sense of surprise.
“At these psychos.” Andrey confessed, lowering his head. “At me. I let myself get caught so easily…”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” Oliver consoled him. “You were overwhelmed. It happens.”
Andrey chuckled. “Y’know, when I was five, my dad used to drunk-fight me. I almost went blind, got a lotta bruises, dislocated a shoulder…but it taught me to defend myself. If that asshole was still alive, he’d probably be shouting at me that I was an embarrassment.”
“C’mon. You were five, and you can’t expect to win every fight.” Oliver told him.
“I’m just worried sick ‘bout Jill.” Andrey admitted.
Oliver exhaled and shut his eyes as he felt the shame flush through his body. “Yeah…me too.”
Atlanta, Outskirts. Afternoon 5.
Matt
Matt and Don sat in a clearing in the woods. There wasn’t much happening. The wildlife had vanished and no walkers were nearby. Don ate a can of sliced pineapple whilst Matt quenched his hunger with canned apple. Only now he was realizing that he was hungry and it felt nice to just have a calm meal.
“Have you ever been to France, Matt?” Don asked with a simper.
Matt shrugged. “No.”
“Really? Never seen la tour Eiffel? Le louvre?” Don insisted, mixing French words in his sentence.
“Nope.” Matt said in a blunt manner, his eyes down and focused on the meal.
“Well, it’s a damned shame you haven’t.” Don stated. “I don’t know if you like art, but the Louvre is simply a fucking amazing place for that. Also, the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower is magnificent. Fantastique!”
“If you say so. Art, painting and all that stuff, isn’t really my thing. My parents liked that though…” Matt disclosed. The mention of his parents made his heart tightened, and he swallowed a slice of apple in a gesture to swallow his sorrows. That’s when he realized something: he said ‘liked’ instead of ‘like’.
“Culture, man. Culture. How do you think is a typical French dude?” Don inquired, but by his smug look, it seemed like he already knew Matt’s answer.
Matt rolled his eyes in a thoughtful manner. The first thing that came to mind was the stereotype that he had always imagined a French guy. “I dunno. A dude who speaks with a fancy accent, wears a beret, drinks wine and eats a baguette and paints ladies for a living?”
Don chuckled with a full grin. “The only thing you were right about was the baguette and wine.”
“How so?” Matt enquired. He felt a bit intrigued knowing more about the country that everyone desired to visit.
“There are a lotta foreigners in France.” Don informed. His eyes that stared at nothingness showed that he was remembering good times from his country. “Seriously, I bet there are more Algerians and Portuguese than French in that country. Also, we suck at grammar.”
Matt smirked and snorted. He was almost instantly with a feeling of guilt. An image flashed before his eyes, in which he saw Billy’s head imploding as he shot himself. Those gruesome images of the geyser of blood and skull fragments made him frown and close his eyes. He bent his back and twitched his head. He scratched his mind with his palm with rapidity, like he tried to erase those wicked memories.
You’ll make it…but I won’t…
You were gonna shoot me!
They say that the cops are investigating cases of maulings caused by walking corpses. Crazy, uh?
I wanna find my family, Billy. Know if they’re okay.
They’re probably dead like mine! So get over it!
“Hey, Matt…” Don called out. Matt was broken out of his spell. He opened his eyes and raised his head as he straightened his back. Don looked at him with peeled eyelids, like he had just seen an exorcism. “Are you…okay? You were a bit…bizarre for a few seconds there…”
Matt stared at Don, not batting an eyelid, frozen as he didn’t know what to say. He just gaped down at his can and kept eating. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s ‘cause of your friend, right?” Don guessed.
“No, no, no…it’s nothing.” Matt reassured, shifting his attention elsewhere.
“Yeah, yeah…and Abraham Lincoln wasn't an asshole.” Don said in a sarcastic manner. “You lie worse than my senile grandmother. You know what you need? Have some fun.”
Don set down his can before he marched towards the truck. “Hey, what’re you doing?” Matt asked, finishing his meal and setting down his can before he stood up.
“Surprise, mon pote.” Don said, opening the back door and rummaging through their supplies.
Matt stood there, eager to know what Don was planning. After a few seconds, he pulled out the two Marlin .22 and tossed one at Matt. Matt flailed his arms and caught it but in a sloppy manner. “You’re gonna learn how to shoot.”
Matt grabbed the rifle in a proper manner. “What? I’m not sure if I…”
“’Course you can!” Don cut him off, pulling the bolt on the rifle and checking the chamber. “See what I did there? These guns are bolt-action. One bullet at a time. Make ‘em count.”
Matt tried to pull the bolt, but it didn’t budge. It appeared to be stuck on something. Don walked up to him and gave the bolt a special twist, then pulled it. The bolt slid out and the chamber opened easily. “You gotta give it that gentle twist.”
Matt smirked. “Okay, thanks.”
Matt shoved the bolt to close the chamber. Don elevated the gun and butted the stock against his shoulder. “This is how you grab the gun. Look down the sights to aim. Careful not to put it too close to your eye. The recoil’s a bitch, and I would recommend keeping your eyes away unless you wanna lose ‘em.”
Matt tried to position the weapon like Don. It was a bit heavy, but he would get used to it. Plus, he had sufficient muscles to resemble a NFL player so it wasn’t a hard task for him. “I got it.”
“Wow, kid, you got the power!” Don said with the intonation of He-Man, before releasing a chuckle. “Okay, now we gotta find ourselves a target.”
“Such as what?” Matt asked, lowering his gun to rest his arms.
“Hey, you sons of bitches!” Don yelled at the top of his lungs. “Any deadies around there! Dinner bell! Come get me, putain!”
“Ssh! What’re you doing?!” Matt demanded in a mumble.
“Getting us targets.” Don said, shrugging. “Now we wait.”
Atlanta, Pratt-Pullman Abandoned Factory – Rooftop. Night 4.
Bianca
The bag was yanked out of Bianca’s head. Bianca was on her knees, her hands restrained behind her back. She panted heavily as the bag was beginning to smother her.
She regained her senses. She looked to both of her sides and saw Steve and Victor, who were in the same position as her. The three of them were lined up. Norman walked along them and pulled the bags off their heads too.
Bianca straightened her head and looked in front of her. Her face froze as she saw rows of candles surrounding the rooftop they were in. All of them gave the dark night an eerie, red glow. A metallic tray stood in the corner of the roof, which contained several surgical tools. Luis viewed them from behind, while George waited in front of them. Norman joined him once he was done taking the bags from their heads.
“What the fuck is this?!” Bianca demanded.
George looked at Bianca with a chuckle. "This? This is the end of times. And the demonstration of our faith."
A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it and remember to say what you thought about this chapter. This time, I didn’t write about Victoria’s storyline because I’m still working out how that arc will work.
OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG BIANCA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Backstories! yay
Matt gonna kill some bitches!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BIANCA!!
Awesome part!
Great part! Damn these cult monsters, can't they just all die horribly? I hope they won't kill Victor, Bianca or Steve.
Anyone can die at any time. All we can do is hope for the better.
Soo, it's been a while. Bump.
Oh my God, I thought everyone had already forgotten about this yet.
First of all, I'm terribly sorry for keeping you guys in the dark, but this story has been cancelled. The reason being, when I started this, I was so excited about it that I drove right into it, without planning the story out for the long haul. So as the story progressed, I had no idea what would happen and wasn't able to build to a satisfying finale, just shoving forced plot points in the story to keep it running, breaking character on more than just one occasion.
I'm not sure if you'll ever forgive me for just disappearing. I could start another story (one that wouldn't have such huge hiatus), but I don't know if you'd still support me.
Whatever happens, thanks to all the people who submitted characters and read the story so far. Sorry for existing and being such a d-bag.
Hey, it's great to see you here
I already suspected that the story has been cancelled, even though I still had a bit of hope that it would continue. I liked the story so far, but I definitely understand your reason for cancelling it. That said, if you want to start a new story, I would support you without any doubt. Your writing is great and I am sure that I'm going to like this new story. So yeah, I'd definitely be interested in a new story 
Thanks a lot for your reply! I was kind of expecting to be bashed for not saying a word for a while now (which would be totally justified) but I was glad to see you were okay, so thank you very much. I'll give you a heads up once it starts. If there are any characters from this story that you'd like to keep for the next story, you can list them so you don't have to fill out another form.
Wow, this made me feel so guilty. Please forgive me!
Hey, as much as I'm sad about this not continuing, I understand your reasons for cancelling it. No need to drag it on when you have no idea where it's going. :P If you start another story, I'll be sure to check it out.
Nah.
Hey, thanks a lot for being supportive even after I was such an asshole. Listen, if you submitted characters for this story and want them to appear in the next story, just list them and I'll take care of it.
Sure, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like Bianca to appear again. I just love her so much.
Of course! She was a great character and I'm glad to have her again.
Alright guys, so my new story has just started! It's is titled "The Walking Dead: Nebraska", and can be found in the forum game section.
There are two main differences from this story: first, there is a protagonist, which is something I believe neglected. Second, there won't be multiple POVs, rather just the omniscient third person that focuses on a group of people specifically.
I repeat, if you had characters from this story you'd like to keep, just list them in a reply to this comment. I hope we will embark on a new and better adventure with the new fanfic!
I think I'm going to create new characters. While I like Jill and Victor, it has been so long since I wrote them and I think I will have more fun writing new characters. I already have an idea and I'm going to submit them later today or tomorrow
By the way, would you be okay if I advertise your new story a little bit in my story? I like to do that from time to time, when a new story starts. That could help getting you a few more readers 
I'd be much obliged if you advertised a bit, thanks a lot!
Thats awesome and I will follow this new story for sure. I would like to keep Jeffrey for the new story, if you want to use him but will also submit a new character for it soon.