CHAPTER ONE

"MJ!" Jess is all smiles as she throws the front door wide open and wraps one of her very best friends in a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey, girl." The brunette chuckles as she hugs her back. "I know it's been awhile, but damn. I mean, when did you get so strong?"

"I gotta compete with your brother." She says as she pulls back and looks at her. "He likes to steal the covers in bed."

"Alright, that's the last I ever need to hear about Sam in bed." MJ brushes past her, heading into the apartment that she spends a weekend in every so often. "Where is the giant anyway?"

"Your older brother showed up late last night, stole him away." The blonde tells her. "You don't know about whatever's going on?"

"Sam called early this morning, but I was in the shower. I was only a couple hours from here, so I figured I'd stop in and see what he wanted." She says as she leans against the counter in her kitchen. "So, Dean showed up, huh? That must've been interesting. You hear any of it?"

"Uh, not much." She shakes her head. "Your dad's on a hunting trip, and Dean's worried because he hasn't heard from him in awhile. You haven't talked to Dean?"

"No, uh... I kicked his last time I saw him, he's pouting." She tells her, and Jess chuckles as she looks at the rather amused expression on her best friend's face. "I'll call later, get the skinny."

"And what are we doing in the meantime?"

"Well, I'm kid-free for a few days, and you and I are now left unsupervised." She grins at the blonde. "I'm gonna raid your closet, and then we're gonna find a bar."

"Ooh, I get to play wingwoman?" Jessica asks as she follows MJ out of the kitchen as they head toward the master bedroom.

MJ pushes a heavy door open, walking into the hospital room that she frequents. "Good morning, Scruffy." The girl with the dyed-blonde hair mutters, closing the door behind her. "How are you feel—" She cuts herself off when she looks over and sees that the previously comatose man is now looking at her with obvious confusion.

"Who are you?" The man in the bed asks as he looks at the young girl. His voice is gruff, as this is the first that he's spoken in a very long time.

"You're awake." She walks over to his bedside, and he looks up at her.

"Are you a nurse?" He's doubtful as he takes in her appearance. She's wearing street clothes — a white knit-sweater and washed out blue jeans.

"I'm your guardian angel." The woman says with a sarcastic smile. "How's your side feel?"

"It hurts."

"I bet."

"Why aren't any of the machines on?" He asks as his blue eyes roam the quiet room. He's not hooked up to anything like he should be.

"Power's been out for quite some time now. No sense in leaving needles and tubes stuck up in you." She says, and he watches her movements as she cuts the bandage from his torso.

"Do you know what you're​ doing?" He grunts when she pushes on a sore spot on his side.

"Well, I should hope so. I am the one who's been keeping​ you alive all this time." She walks away and gets materials to clean the wound.

"Can I talk to the doctor?"

"He's probably dead." She tells him, and he grabs her wrist when the rubbing alcohol stings his injury. "Sorry, my bedside manner isn't always the best."

"Did you say that my doctor's dead?" He asks as his grip on her arm loosens.

"Everyone's dead. Well, most people anyway." The woman corrects. "Haven't come across many survivors."

"Survivors of what?"

"That, my previously comatose friend, is the million dollar question." She says as she puts a fresh bandage over the bullet wound.

"What's your name?" He asks as she helps him sit up in his bed, readjusting the hospital gown that he's wearing.

"MJ."

"That's not a name. Those are letters."

"My initials." She tells him. "You're Rick, right? That's the name on all the cards." She motions to the table a couple of feet away. There are a few long since abandoned get-well-soon cards, as well as some wilted and dried out flower bouquets.

"Yeah." He nods as his eyes take in the dead flowers. "Where's my wife? My son?"

"Don't know. Sit tight, I'm gonna get you some water." She walks over to her bag that's sitting on a nearby chair and pulls a bottle out of it.

She hands it over to him, and he chugs the entirety of the water inside. He then hands it back to her once he's finished, and she refills it in the bathroom sink before stuffing the bottle back into her duffle. The blonde finishes situating her belongings, and then slings the bag over her shoulder before walking back over to the bed where he's still sitting.

"Come on, I gotta get you to Morgan's before nightfall." She says, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders.

"I gotta find my wife and our son." Rick says as she helps him stand. He's shaky on his legs as he gets to his feet, weak from laying down for so long.

"You're the only living person I know of in this town besides me and my friends. If they're alive, they're not here anymore." She tells him. "One task at a time, alright?"

"You keep saying everyone's dead, why should I believe you? Why should I believe anything that you're telling me?" He questions. "No offense, but I don't even know you, kid."

"That's fair, but right now, I'm all you got." MJ says as she secures her arm around his torso.

"That's comforting."

"It'll be better if I show you." She says as she leads him to the door.

MJ opens it and then pushes the gurney away from the doorway. She puts it there when she's either gone or inside. You can never be too cautious these days.

Rick looks down one hallway in the abandoned hospital and sees that it's mostly dark without the light from the window in his room. There are some lights flickering down on the end of the hall, but it doesn't do much to illuminate the area. The pair starts walking, and he moves his arm so that it's no longer wrapped around her, but he leaves his hand on her shoulder as she leads the way toward the flickering lights.

As MJ pulls her duffle forward so that she can rifle through it, Rick looks at the papers that are littering the floor. There's abandoned medical supplies and empty rooms. The hospital seems to be void of anyone but the two of them.

Rick goes for the phone on the reception desk, and MJ glances at him before continuing her search for her flashlight. "No connection. Line's dead." She tells him.

"Could we use these?" He holds up a small pack of matches.

"Definitely." She holds her hand out. "I'll keep 'em in my bag." She says, and he hands them to her. "Come on."

"Wait, what's..." Rick walks — more like limps — over to a set of double doors and looks through the window. He stops when he sees a corpse in the middle of the floor in the hallway. She was a blonde woman, but she looks like she was torn to shreds.

"She was probably a nurse." MJ says from behind him as she looks at what's likely the remnants of light blue scrubs.

He stumbles back, away from the bloody mess on the other side of the doors. MJ starts walking again, and he follows her out of the recovery ward of the south wing. He looks at the wires falling through open panels in the ceiling and avoids the mess on the floor around his feet.

"What happened here?" He asks when he sees the multitude of bullet holes in the wall and the blood running down the white paint, pooling on the tile below.

"Don't know for sure." MJ says; she hasn't turned her flashlight on yet. "I just know that a lot of people were killed."

"And what exactly is that?" He points to a new set of double doors that says it leads to the cafeteria. There's what looks like black paint and the writing reads,

DON'T OPEN
DEAD INSIDE

"Exactly that." MJ says as the thumping starts up again. They shuffle around on the other side and try to get out every time she walks past. "It's a damn shame too. We could use the food that's probably back there."

Rick takes a step back when the doors start to open, but they're stopped by the chain and wooden piece stuck through the handles. Pale fingers push through the small gap, and she shakes her head as she looks up at Rick.

"Come on, we're burning daylight." She says, and then he follows her through another set of double doors.

The bloody handprints on the walls don't go unnoticed by him, but MJ hardly ever sees them anymore. It's like her mind is slowly going numb to it all. He tries the buttons on the elevator that they pass, and she smirks as she keeps going.

"How do we get out?" Rick asks as he looks over at her.

"Stairs, genius." The blonde turns on the flashlight that she's been carrying and aims the beam at the fire exit. Rick starts coughing as a result of the foul odor seeping over from the dead, and MJ takes the stairs down slowly so she doesn't lose him. He's still weak.

The pair finally make it to the bottom, and she pulls out the blade on her hip before opening the door. Rick looks at the long silver object in confusion, but doesn't say anything as he watches her. He then squints at the blinding light of day on the outside of the rundown hospital.

They make it down the last remaining steps to the ground, and he walks hesitantly after the stranger that's been helping him. It's difficult for him to keep walking between the overwhelming number of dead bodies wrapped in formerly white sheets. Not a single body is without blood...or flies.

Rick fights back tears at the horrific sight, and he forces himself to keep following behind the girl. The dyed-blonde woman is showing an unnerving amount of indifference to what he's seeing for the first time. There has to be at least a hundred bodies that he can currently see as he looks around.

They continue away from the hospital, and he resists the urge to vomit. MJ slows down and helps him up the grassy hill toward the helicopter on the upper level. He freezes when he sees the abandoned military camp, full of no-longer-functioning Humvees and other equipment. The building to their right is black where it was burned, and he returns his attention to MJ.

"We have to go to my house." He tells her, and she sighs.

"I'd argue that there's no way your family's there, but I guess you're gonna have to see that for yourself too." She nods as she starts walking again. "Steer me in the right direction, and I'll try to keep us from getting killed out here." She tells him.

They're walking along the sidewalk a few miles up the road, and he sees half a body just laying in the grass a few feet away. He stops, and MJ turns her dark eyes to him.

"People just leave the dead laying out like that?" He questions, and then the body starts to move. It rolls over and looks at them with dead eyes. "Oh, shit." He backs away as it reaches for them, growling.

"I told you, the living aren't here anymore."

He watches as she walks over to it, unfazed by the way it's trying to grab at her. She raises the long blade and swings the sharp tip down so that it pierces through the skull. It stops moving and just lays there, limp. Now it's completely dead.

"Normally, I don't bother with the crawlers, but that was your first lesson. Always go for the head." She says as she pulls the blade back out of its skull and wipes the blood into the grass near her feet. "You can only kill them by going for the brain."

"How do you know that?" He asks, visibly repulsed as she stands up straight.

"Trial and error." She walks back over to him. "So, your house?"

He nods as he tears his gaze away from the monster and leads the way. As soon as they're outside of his old home, he runs in and starts yelling for Lori and Carl. MJ doesn't pay the surroundings much attention, she doesn't like to look at things involving what once was. It's just too hard to think about.

"I don't want to be insensitive, but we have to get to Morgan's." She says as she walks into the room where he's laying on the hard-wood floor sobbing. He's questioning whether or not he's really there, if what he's seeing is real.

Rick gets up, and they go outside, but he only makes it as far as the steps by the sidewalk and then he sits down. MJ sighs as she looks around, trying to be patient with him because she can't imagine what this must be like for him — waking up from a coma to find that the world's gone to shit while he was sleeping.

Rick starts waving, and she turns around to see one of the dead walking toward them.

"Dammit." The blonde mutters as a rustling sound behind Rick catches her attention. Luckily, it's just Duane. "That is not a person, Rick."

"What?" He asks, confused as he looks up at her.

"Who's this?" Duane asks, gaining Rick's attention.

A gunshot behind her makes her spin around, and she sees Morgan. "Son of a bitch. You know we don't fire if it's only one." She tells him as she grabs Rick's arm. "Come on, up we go. Now."

"This your gunshot patient?" Morgan asks as he walks over to them.

"I told you he'd wake up. You're always so damn pessimistic." MJ says as she pulls Rick along with her. "Dude, move your ass."

—

"I heard a gunshot." Jack says as MJ nudges the injured man into the house.

The young boy looks panicked, and she immediately feels guilty. She knows that Jack doesn't like her going out on her own, but she always does it anyway. He's so sweet and naïve, and he worries about her a lot.

"Morgan's a dumbass." She says, and the older black man shoots her a dirty look as he starts boarding up the front door.

"Has he been bit?" Morgan asks.

"No, señor paranoid. No bites. No scratches." She tells him.

"Can we trust him?"

"He's been in a coma since this started. He doesn't know anything about what's going on." MJ says as she helps Rick sit on the couch in the living room. "He needs us, and we're able to help."

"I took you in. Don't you go giving me lectures on giving people chances." He says, and she looks at him.

"I've gone to the hospital every day, and I've treated his wound. I don't know much, but I think he deserves at least the benefit of the doubt." She reasons. "Don't you?"

"Duane, start the food." Morgan tells his son. "I want to have a chat with MJ here."

"Jack, will you clean this for me, please?" She holds the angel blade out toward him, and he takes it. "Thanks, sweetie."

MJ follows Morgan into the bedroom and looks at him. "I can't have an extra danger around my son. Are you absolutely positive that we can trust this guy?" He asks her.

"I've read those cards in his hospital room a hundred times. He was a cop, and well-liked by the looks of it." She tells him. "Multiple cards, flowers on the table beside him." She sighs when he just looks at her. "I've been looking after Jack since the day that he was born, alright? I promised his mom that I'd raise him like my own child. I don't want him around a possible threat any more than you want Duane around one."

He nods. "Alright."