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A L I C E

ALICE DUNLAP WAS WAITING at the bus stop when everything happened. School had let out early, and she and her older brother, Elliot, were left stranded on the side of the road by their frantic bus driver. Luckily, their father'd found them there when he was racing to the school to pick them up.

Unfortunately, however, their dad would be the only family member who they'd be able to locate, following the outbreak. The three never heard from Alice's mother or the eldest brother of the family, again.

The remaining members of the Dunlap family adjusted rather fittingly to the new world and they quickly settled with the fact that they'd probably never see the other two ever again—Alice, in particular, having an easier time doing so. Whatever fraction of a possibility of finding their mother and brother was not worth risking what the family still had to travel into the city. And what they still had was one another.

Elliot, one of Alice's older brothers, had grown accustomed to his differences, even learning to use them to his advantage. The boy had been forced to adapt to his surroundings ever since the day he was born. He had cerebral palsy, and permanently walked on crutches as a physical result of his condition.

But what would've been seen as a burden by most, was turned into a weapon with the use of a few knives and some electrical tape tightly fastened to the boy's elbow-pieces. Over time, the boy learned the unique maneuver needed to put down one of the dead with his makeshift weapon, when approached from behind.

And as for his front-side, Alice never failed to be leading the way. Although Elliot seemed to have figured out what worked best for him, Alice's protective nature never faltered. She looked out for him, so much so that she'd have been willing to throw herself in front of any chomping jaws or loaded gun that could have ever been aimed for him.

The three Dunlaps barely managed to get by on their own, operating through their new lives, fending for one another. They'd tried communities, camps and even a smaller group bouncing around from place to place, but nothing ever stuck—not that anyone would've been crazy enough to expect it to. It wasn't ideal, but, for a little while, a small tent and a few empty cans suspended from trees by dental floss worked for the Dunlaps.

Until, one day, Alice and Elliot were once again left on the side of the road—just like when everything first happened—waiting for their father to come and retrieve them. Except this time, he never came back. And the siblings knew that their father would've been right there with them, if he had anything to say about it. His extended absence did not breed the assumption of good news about their father's whereabouts.

The two siblings were left sitting on the forest floor, after their father left them there in order to chase after a moving car that he caught a glimpse of from between the trees. Alice and Elliot thought that it'd been a figment of their father's imagination, as neither of them were on the lookout for anything other than the dead, and they didn't hear or see a thing. They figured that the man was desperate and would do anything for his hungry kids—hoping so badly to get help, even though it was never really out there.

But, before the kids could interject, their father had taken the group's orange duffel bag and ran for the hills. Elliot and Alice packed up camp after a day or so of waiting for him to come back. And to better the chances of ever seeing their father again, the two decided on walking in the direction that he was headed, making sure to stay concealed within the tree line.

The two traveled their way along the side of the long street, slowly. Soon, hours turned into days and bottles of water diminished into drops. There was still no sign of their father.

"Let's take a break." Alice suggested as her feet came to a stop, from in front of Elliot. She and her brother had been progressively getting weaker, and she could tell that from the sound of the boy's labored footsteps, that Elliot was beginning to test his own limits.

The boy continued walking, the sound of the leaves of the forest floor crunching underneath his crutches did not stop, although Alice's footsteps did. He slowly passed up his sister, keeping his eyes locked on the long road ahead of them. "We've already taken a break, today."

"Elliot," Alice huffed. She continued to stare at her brother's back, as that was the only part of him that was facing her. And even after her obvious complaining, the stubborn boy still continued to inch his way farther from her.

"Your arms are getting tired." She dramatically slapped her hands to her thighs, before patting around her pockets for her extra cloth. Once she finally dug out the cloth, her footsteps started at a quickened pace. It wasn't but a few moments until the girl caught up to her brother, placing a hand on his upper arm. "At least let me put more padding around your elb—"

"God damn it, Alice!" Elliot aggressively shrugged his sister's hand off of him, causing him to stumble forward.

Alice furrowed her eyebrows, waiting until her brother turned around to face her, shifting his body-weight over to one arm. When Elliot finally turned to meet her gaze, she could tell that his burst of anger was about much more than just the cloth in her hand.

"It—It's like you don't even care about finding dad!" He shouted at her.

"Elliot," Alice's face softened. "Keep your voice down, we're out in the op—"

"Why should I care? Huh?" The boy took one angry step towards his little sister. "You clearly don't!"

Tensions had been high between the family plenty of times over the past several months of their constant fight for survival. Bickering and pettiness wasn't new amongst the two siblings. But this fight—the way Elliot was angrily staring down at her—was different.

The girl huffed, rolling her eyes to a shut. "Of course I c—"

"No you don't!" Elliot interrupted, causing his sister's relaxed eyelids to snap open. "You did the same exact thing with Wayne—with Mom. How can you j—just not give a shit?"

Alice knew exactly what her brother was asking of her. He wanted an explanation that he was never going to get.

The truth was that Alice Dunlap did care. She thought about her mom and her eldest brother all the time—though she tried not to. Deep down, she knew what their absence meant. She knew that their chances of making it out of Atlanta alive, that first day of the outbreak, were slim to none.

But, how Alice dealt with the pain was quite simple.

As long as she didn't see what happened to them—as long as she never even found out what happened to them—that they weren't really ever going to die. She didn't want to grieve something that she wasn't there to witness. In her mind, they weren't really someone to mourn. She wouldn't let her loved ones become the subject of mourning—not if she could help it.

And the sudden disappearance of their father was no exception to this childish denial of Alice's.

The girl let out a sigh, readying her throat for such apologetic words. "Elliot, l—"

"Shut up." Elliot began to look around.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sor—"

"Shut up!" He whispered to Alice.

It was only now that the girl realized that her brother was not in tune with the conversation anymore. He was focused on something else, and Alice was beginning to realize what it was.

Loud, unbothered footsteps were beginning to echo closer and closer to the pair of siblings. The rustling leaves were sounding out in a determined rhythm—not the same sloppy, dragging pattern like that of one of the dead. Someone living was approaching the siblings, and whoever it was that was coming towards them was only a few yards away.

Alice stepped in front of her older brother, knowing that she and Elliot would make too much noise if they were to try to move. And running wasn't necessarily an option—especially when the two had become so encumbered by their recent travels.

The girl removed her gun from its holster, raising it up to her eyes, and aiming it at the rustling leaves. She wouldn't show it, but her gun was empty. She'd ran out of ammo the day her dad left, and whatever was left of the case of bullets was still in the family's big, orange duffel—that of which, her father had taken with him on the chase of the mysterious moving car.

Out of the brush came a man wearing a black eyepatch and a charismatic smile. He was harnessing a small backpack, and was clean-cut—as if he'd shaved the surface of his face that same morning. The man gently raised his hands in surrender, playfully looking behind him to see if there was someone else who Alice was raising her gun at.

It was clear that he did not take the girl seriously. And, with no bullets in her handgun, Alice didn't quite take herself all-that seriously, either. However, she kept her glare locked on the man, and would've been ready to pull the trigger had her gun not been empty. She'd never killed the living before, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she'd have to.

"Oh man," The man's thick southern accent sounded out.

He leaned to the side, looking past Alice and landing the gaze of his one eye on Elliot. The girl tightened her grip on her empty weapon, clenching her jaw as the man looked up and down, studying her brother's crutches.

The man tilted his head to the side, switching his gaze back to Alice. "You two sure look like you could use a bit of help."

Alice continued to stare at the man, and it was clear that she did not intend on speaking to him—not anytime soon, anyways. She thought that if the man were to rob the two kids, he'd have done it by the time he realized that there was no one else there to protect them. And knowing that her own gun posed no real threat to the man, her confidence in her ability to control the situation had already been knocked down a few pegs.

For a few moments, Alice had only thought about the wide range of risks that the man had to offer the two siblings. It hadn't occurred to her what else that the man had actually offered them: help.

Help was what her father went chasing after—just a matter of days ago. It was what the man wanted for his children. And his chase for help—that was never to come—ended in his disappearance. But, finally, a chance of help had come, but not in time for the whole family to bask in it.

Alice Dunlap didn't know what kind of help that the strange man with the eyepatch and the charismatic smile had to offer her—or even if his motives were truthful—but she knew that she was out of bullets, water, and choices. She also knew that, wherever her father was, he'd want her and her brother to have gotten the help they needed to get out of their flimsy camp—to not have to jump around from place to place anymore.

The girl's harsh stare faltered for a bit, before she tried to harden it at the man, again. She then switched her gaze over her shoulder to look behind herself, at Elliot, slightly lowering the aim of her empty gun. Her older brother offered her a tight-lipped smile, nodding his head, though she didn't even have to ask the question.

Alice returned her gaze back to the man, before lowering her gun and shoving it back into its holster. She let her hand rest on its grip, still trying to seem like a threat to the stranger. "What kind of help did you have in mind?"

☆

Alice Dunlap had taken a helping hand from a man who she would later call her governor. She did it with the hope that she and her brother would finally settle down somewhere—perhaps the same place where the strange man had gotten so neatly manicured. She wanted to believe in a place—for herself and for Elliot. The girl wanted to be somewhere safe, no longer bouncing around from place to place, campsite to campsite.

But, just like all of the other arrangements that the Dunlaps had tried to make for themselves, this one—Woodbury—fell through. And just like that, within a matter of weeks, Alice and Elliot were relocated again. But this time it was different—yet sort of all the same.

The two were placed on a bus, ready to be moved to a different settlement, sort of like the day they had to evacuate their school. The first day of the outbreak, Alice realized that her life would change, as she stared at the panic on the bus driver's face, in his rear view mirror. This day, riding on a bus rigged with protective metal sheets—although not as rushed as the first day of the outbreak—gave the girl the same, worried feeling.

But this time around, however, Alice was not worried of the unknown. She was worried of what she already knew. She was worried of the promises that the new people were making to her—the ones bringing the people of a fallen Woodbury into their own settlement. The girl felt sorry that she'd touch yet another community. She almost felt as though her presence would bound the new place to its own demise—like she was somehow the common denominator in a world full of chaos and destruction. And what happened to Woodbury shortly after her arrival only cemented her outlandish suspicions.

Once the bus arrived to their destination, and Alice reached under her seat to grab the bag of her things, the girl felt a certain heaviness set into her stomach. She was almost as fearful of her arrival at the prison as she was of her departure from her old school that was bound to be overrun.

The girl felt as though this second bus ride should've been like something of a book-end to encapsulate all of her struggles as she'd finally have a place to settle down, once and for all. Instead, as she stepped off of the bus steps and onto the pavement, Alice Dunlap felt that an entire new series of books had just been dusted off and cracked open.

Gathering her surroundings, she tried to imagine what would happen to this place—how it would meet its end and how she'd avoid seeing that happen. Knowing her luck, the prison was now bound to crumble. In her mind, it wasn't the way of the new world—it was her. She felt as though her presence—along with the presence of the several other people from Woodbury—should have never been tolerated at the prison. That it almost would've never been tolerated at the prison—that it had almost been saved from the doom that seemed to follow the girl around.

But as Alice Dunlap looked around—observing all of faces of the prison's people as they watched the bus unload—she managed to spot one sour face that seemed as though he would never be one to tolerate her presence.

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2663 words
December 14, 2022
12:02 AM

A/N

now you guys know how Alice and Elliot fit into the plot of TWD!! their dad is the roadkill from s3e12!!

I'm so surprised there hasn't been a fic about this, considering that the orange bag has literally outlived most of the characters. I got the idea for this fic in like April/May of 2022 and it's only just now happening.

I will fight for my life to have a chapter out every two weeks, MAYBE every three weeks, because I love writing and uploading and I have SO many plans for this book!! there are so many things that I missed out on while writing EE because of my original plot, so I'm excited for the s4-5 chapters!!

also ive been MIA on tiktok because I'm so tired of editing my other fics with the same 20 clips and I want to actually post chapters before I edit so that I don't spoil anything. so expect edits of this prologue to drop as soon as I upload this chapter. (I waited until midnight so I could technically upload this exactly two weeks from the date that I published the intro!! maybe my New Year's resolution will be to keep the streak going !!)

okay bye ily guys and I can't wait for you guys to read what I have planned for Alice and Carl!!

☆vote for the orange backpack fic finally surfacing ☆