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PROLOGUE;

❛i'll see you soon, baby sister.❜

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EVERY DAY YOU RISK YOUR LIFE,
waiting for the worst to happen, assuming you're safe when it fails to appear. You risk your life every day, doing the simplest tasks, but it never occurs to you that one day you're you and the next you're merely just an organism fighting to survive. The predator living deep inside of you, swimming closer to the surface. Living a life where it's kill or be killed.

A life Tatum Morell, truth be told, sure as hell wasn't ready for.

Tatum was fresh out of the shower, wrapping a clean towel around her dripping body when she heard the house phone began ringing. Trying to get to the phone before the ringing stopped, she stubbed her toe on the wooden chair in the kitchen.

"Dammit!" she cursed, dramatically hopping toward the phone. She quickly brought the phone up to her ear, her voice instantly going monotone. "This better be good. Hello?"

"Tate..." her brother's relieved voice raced from the other line. "Thank god, where are you?"

"Home. As always." Tatum leaned against her cream-colored wall. "Where are you? You were supposed to be here hours ago."

"Listen to me." His voice was panicked; rushed. "I need you to pack a bag. I won't be able to get to you in time, so you need to listen to me carefully."

The girl stood straighter, becoming alarmed by what her brother was saying. "Tony, what's going on? Don't tell me you're MIA."

"Something's happening. Something bad." His voice ran in and out. Some of the words he was saying, she could hardly hear. "People are changing. Dying."

From the opposite line, she heard gun shots and screams of people nearby. Tatum felt her heartbeat instantly accelerate. "Tony? Tony?" Tears filled to the brim of her eyes as she waited for an answer from the other side of the line. "Antonio?"

"I'm here." She could hear him breathing hard like he'd been running. "Tate, get to Atlanta. I-I'll meet you there, okay? But...first I need you to promise me something."

"Anything..."

"Don't stop for anyone. Be the last man standing if you have to." The girl nodded even though he couldn't see her. This was same speech their father used to give them. "Survive by any means necessary, you hear me? I'll find you."

He sniffed at the end of his sentence and Tatum internally deflated. Antonio was one of the strongest people she knew, she looked up to him. To hear him sound so defeated frightened her to her core.

"I love you, T." Tatum wiped the tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'll see you soon, baby sister." The two were silent for a moment but she could still feel his presence. He was still there.

But before the girl could reply, the line cut off, leaving her speechless. Nonetheless she began doing what she was told. She hung the phone back on its post and ran to her room to get dressed before pulling out the biggest duffel bag she had along with a backpack.

The brunette began throwing in some clothes, not even stopping to look if they were clean. She threw in her toothbrush and toothpaste before pulling out a box from her closet. The box consisted of supplies her father gave her before he died. A survival kit, he called it.

She took out the pistol, pocketknife, lighter and matches, and the flashlight, along with the miniature first aid kit.

Tatum could barely think straight. Ever since she'd gotten off the phone with her brother, her mind had been on its own accord. She was panicking but trying to make sure nothing was being forgotten.

Slinging both bags over her shoulder, she raced to the door, grabbing her brother's army hoodie and her car keys from the bowl.

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Tatum had been driving for over six hours, the radio was overturned with static, and she was running low on gas. Since she couldn't use a gps, she had a map in her left hand attempting to find out where she was going.

She kept replaying her brother's very vague words in her head, "Get to Atlanta." The question was where in Atlanta, how were they gonna find each other when they got there?

Once she looked up, glancing at the road she saw that there were two people in the middle of the street. "Oh, my god!" Tatum quickly swerved, leaving her car to go down hill into a ditch. She attempted to stop but her car collided into a tree at the end.

The next few minutes were a blur, she couldn't remember hitting the tree or how long she'd been there but she could feel the warm red substance on her forehead. Tatum clutched her head as an intense ringing alarmed. As she lifted her head, the brunette saw two men ( the men from the road ) making their ways toward her with baseball bats in hand.

"Ah, we got us a pretty one." One of the men laughed as he raised his bat. A loud thump hit the window, causing a crack the glass. "Come on out, princess."

Still with a major headache, Tatum began panicking. The girl yanked at her seatbelt, attempting to flee through the opposite door. The other man quickly truffling to her side. "There's no where to run."

While one of the men were continuously attempting to shatter the window, Tatum opened the door with all her force, letting it collide into the other's nose. The shaggy-haired man stumbled back holding the bridge of his nose, allowing Tatum to make an escape.

"You stupid bitch!" He yelled, before tackling her onto the ground. A firm hand came across her cheek, a stinging pain left to linger before her head lifted up and crashed back onto the ground. "You're gonna get it now."

Tatum felt this deep pain shoot throughout her head. The men, their voices became mumbles and the sunlight above them darkened. She hoped this wasn't what dying felt like. Not having the slightest ability to hear or see or move. Her vision blurred and every sound ran in and out of her ears.

A group of walkers, hearing the collision, made their ways toward the three. The taller man ran around the car, yanking at his friends dark gray tee. "Chuck, come on. Leave her!"

Becoming more aware of her senses even though she might've had a concussion, the girl began to panic again. "Get off-" Tatum cried out, punching at him to get off of her.

Her arm extended as she reached out for her duffel bag. Her father had always taught her to be prepared if she ever encountered something like this, but she never once thought it'd come true. Hearing the metal of his belt, the girl began to become more angry than scared, reaching for the gun.

"Chuck, man, jus—"

A loud gunshot went off and the man fell on top of her. Tatum internally crumbled. She looked over at where her hand was. Her fingertips hadn't even reached the gun yet. So, what shot him? Who shot him?

Not knowing who shot him or what to do next or how close the dead were to her, her chest heaved, and her breath became unstable. Surviving was a mere thought, she never had to actively do it. She always had her dad or her brother. Always. Now she was alone.

She quickly pushed the weight of the man off of her, looking down at her blood-stained shirt. Tatum pulled her gun out of the bag, holding it by her side as she turned to see how much distance was between her and the walkers, she ran toward the open car door, to grab her map and backpack.

She looked back to see the other man halfway down the road, away from the walkers. The snarls grew closer and Tatum, with her bag and map in hand, took off into the woods, forgetting her duffle bag.

After a while, the trees passed in a blur, mixing green shades with brown. The sun was just barely setting, engulfing the entirety of the woods in a deep blue light. With the walkers coming from every direction, she was running out of bullets. And maybe it was her concussion, but everything ran in and out in a blur —— like she couldn't focus.

The girl could barely catch her breath as she tiredly continued running through the forest. Her aching feet blistered, causing her to slow down and shuffle out of sight. Though she could still hear the snarls from the uprisen dead, they weren't close enough.

Tatum leaned against a tree, taking a moment to catch her breath as she removed her hair from her sweaty blood-stained skin. She only had one bullet left, but that wasn't enough to suffice the dozens of walkers heading toward her.

The brunette couldn't believe what was happening. First, her brother was running from the military, shooting whoever and whatever they thought held a sickness, then she had to escape random sickos who thought now was the time for their wretched fantasies. Now, she was running from the dead itself.

Atlanta was a far distance away and she sure as hell wouldn't make it on one bullet. On foot.

The noises trudged closer; groans being heard behind her. The girl stood straighter, stuffing her gun into her waistband before continuing to run again. It felt like that's all she'd been doing since the outbreak.

Running.

But she promised her brother she'd survive. And she was gonna keep that promise.

By any means necessary.

Looking behind her to see a few of the dead catching up to her, she continued running, but her feet disobeyed her. Losing her balance, the girl expected to hit the ground, but a hand wrapped around her mouth, the other secured around her waist as her body backed behind some trees. To say she was scared was an understatement. Her hands shook, causing her to drop her map in the process.

Watching as the group of walkers walked past the two, Tatum waited a minute before pushing the person off of her and quickly pointing her gun.

"Am I worth it? If my math is correct," the curly-haired brunette grinned as he put up his hands up in surrender, "you have only one bullet remaining? And I guarantee if they hear that shot, they'll be right back for you." he motioned toward the way the dead was lingering.

Tatum's chest heaved up and down, but after a second of thought, she cautiously lowered her gun, squinting her eyes at him, "You've been following me?"

"Not long." He told her, putting down his hands. It was clear he didn't see the girl as a threat. He held up a duffle bag and it became clear to the girl who he was or at least what he'd done. "But long enough to see you weren't gonna make it. Without my help, of course."

Tatum furrowed her brows at the boy that she could hardly see. However, once he handed her the bag, she took it, taking a step back. "You shot that man."

"I mean, what can I say?" The brunette shrugged nonchalantly, "Men who treat women like that-"

"I don't need a knight in shining armor, okay?" Tatum cut him off, rolling her eyes once again. The girl turned on her heel, securing her gun in her waistband. She walked the few steps she needed before crouching down to retrieve her map.

She could hear the leaves crunch behind her, knowing he was following her. "Sure, you don't. But a 'thank you' would be nice." He motioned down at her map, though she couldn't see him. "Where you headed?"

"What's it matter to you?" Tatum continued on her way, but when she got a hum instead of a reply, she simply answered. "Atlanta."

"Atlanta." she heard him repeat in a mumble. He caught up, walking beside her. "Well, you're not gonna make it there in the dark. Come on, I have a camp set up."

Tatum quickly came to a halt, staring the man down, though with how dark it was out, she could hardly see him or the glint in his eyes. "Look, I don't know you, nor do I trust yo-"

He playfully held out his hand, "Oliver. Now you know me." A smirk found its way into his lips as he watched the girl become frustrated. "Come on, in the morning I'll get you to Atlanta but, right now, I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. And as for trusting me, you'll just have to take a chance."

Don't stop for anyone...

Just as she was beginning to take him seriously, he lifted three fingers, "I won't murder you. Scouts honor." Tatum rolled her eyes as he laughed, watching her walk off. She was definitely not in the right state of mind for this. "This outta' be fun."

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THE SUN WAS SHINING AND A LIGHT breeze passed. It was a nice day out. The man laughed as he lifted his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. "Time out, champ. I need a break."

Carl Grimes let out a small giggle as he tossed the football in his hands. "Oh, come on, old man. No breaks."

Colton lifted his hand, placing it on his heart. "Old man?" He ran toward the boy, lifting him off of his feet as he pretended, he would drop him. Cole grinned as Carl giggled like a schoolgirl. "I'm an old man?"

Colton was Lori's younger brother, so he was always around. After finishing school, his plan was to move away from his non-adventurous home, but his brother-in-law, Rick, got shot and he couldn't leave. Not on those terms. He couldn't leave Carl without a male figure in his life, and he couldn't leave his sister to raise a child alone.

Colton planted Carl on his feet and they both dropped to the ground, lying on the stale grass. The two just stared up at the sky in a comfortable silence. A silence neither of them knew they needed.

Suddenly, Carl's voice sounded. "Do you think my dad will be okay?"

Colton didn't want to make promises, so he said the next best thing. "Your dad is strong. He's a fighter."

"Carl! Cole!" Lori's voice echoed from the house. She made her way toward the back door. "You need to come see this."

Carl stood from the grass, looking down at his uncle. "Race ya' inside!" he let out before taking off into the house.

Cole smiled, wiping the stray grass from his jeans. He walked toward the door, stopping beside his older sister who held a frantic look. "Everything alright?"

"We should call Shane."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲...
❧ why does the first chapter take the longest time, it's irritating but here it is after five million redos. I don't know how I feel about it. But I hope you guys like it...

❧ I, so badly, wanted to add Josh to this chapter but I couldn't. It wouldn't go with the plot. 💀 Anyway, hope you liked it. Deuces!

ravensshome_