Hello, there! And welcome to The Crossroads! Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope very much that you enjoy the story! Before you begin reading, here's a few words of warning:

Obviously if you watch the show/read the comics, then you know how violent/graphic WD can be. There will be foul language, there will be violence, and, quite possibly, there will be adult themes further down the road. If you do not like stuff like that or think you might find yourself offended by the occasional use of the word 'fuck', turn back now.

Also, if you're looking for instant romance, then I'm afraid you're not going to find it here. When I say eventual Daryl/OC, I mean eventual, so be prepared to wait for romance.

One last thing - I am following the general storyline of the show, but I wont be following it exactly. There will be some chapters where I follow the show pretty closely, but for the most part, I'm going to try not to and I'm gonna try to make new, exciting changes to it!

Anywho, that's enough from me! Happy reading!

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR (10/26/16): Seeing as this story has now been plagiarized TWICE, I want to make it very clear to everyone that I do not post on any other websites. This is the only website I have written on, and it is the only one I ever WILL write on. If you see my story elsewhere, it has been stolen. If you should happen to see this being posted anywhere else, I would greatly appreciate it if you contacted me about it. Please, and thank you!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Walking Dead universe, only the OC's.


Part One
New Friends


Prologue

It all started with a few strange reports on the evening news.

A man hopped up on bath-salts eats some homeless man's face. A wasted college kid kills his roommate, then proceeds to have the poor kid's brain as his midnight snack. The stories were disturbing, yes, but considering how many crazy people were roaming about in the world these days, they were stories that Jenna Matthews took in stride and eventually dismissed altogether. Hell, she could even remember laughing about it with her friends at one point in time, could remember making jokes about wanting to stock up on guns and ammo and provisions so that she would be ready when the 'zombies' came. Before we know it, it'll be zombie-hunting season instead of deer-hunting season, her boyfriend Jon had laughingly said one night while they sat on the couch listening to a report of yet another odd incident.

She blamed the desensitizing of America due to increasingly violent movies, television shows, and games were to blame for her ignorance in the early stages of the apocalypse. She had started to wake up, however, when things had started to get undeniably worse. People started to get sick with some strange new virus that doctors had never seen before, a new type of 'flu' that kept popping up all over the country. More weird stories and even weirder videos started popping up on the news and on the internet. Then people started going missing, disappearing without a trace, never to be heard from again.

The jokes they had been making started to fade away, because all of a sudden the situation didn't seem like such a laughing matter anymore. Things were getting stranger, paranoia began to creep in, and fear started to spread. Because something was obviously wrong. And with every new, weird thing that happened, the thought of a zombie apocalypse didn't seem so crazy anymore.

Then it happened. On one hot Wednesday in August, a day that had otherwise been perfectly normal, everything changed. It was as though someone had pulled some secret lever to release the hounds of hell and set them loose on the world. And in what seemed like merely the blink of an eye, Jenna's entire life fell into complete chaos...


"I'm telling you, Mom, this whole thing is gonna blow over soon enough. CNN is just sensationalizing everything," Jenna tried to reason with her mother for the hundredth time that week. She tried to ignore the fact that even she wasn't entirely convinced by her own statements, knowing she needed to keep a level head for her mother. With everything that had been happening recently, Renee Matthews was on the verge of a full blown panic attack. It was Jenna's job to try and calm her down, not make her even more panicky than she already was by admitting to her own doubts and worries.

"Sensationalizing?" her mother echoed incredulously. "No, this is serious, Jenna," she went on to argue. "They've closed downtown, for God's sake! They've quarantined the whole area!"

Jenna frowned at hearing that – they'd closed off downtown Houston? This was certainly news to her. "Mom – "

She was interrupted when someone began to knock loud and persistently at the back door. Jenna jumped in surprise, gulping as momentary fear made a lump form in her throat. When the knocking didn't stop, she finally sucked it up and went heading for the door. "Hold on a second, Mom. Someone's at the door."

Renee started to say something in response, but since the phone had already been moved away from Jenna's ear, her mother's words were too faint to understand. Jenna made her way to the backdoor, passing through her small kitchen along the way, then flicked up one of the blinds covering the window in the back door to see who was on the other side. It was a relief to see that it was just her neighbor, Kim. That relief was short-lived, however, when she realized that the woman looked absolutely petrified.

Kim waved her hands urgently, motioning for Jenna to open the door. As soon as Jenna did so, her neighbor came rushing inside, nearly bowling her over in the process.

"Kim, what the hell?" Jenna demanded, her eyebrows furrowing together as Kim quickly slammed the door shut behind her.

"I saw someone out there!" Kim hissed, turning her back on Jenna to peer out the window. The blonde-haired woman was visibly shaking with fear. "They were…they were…" But she couldn't seem to get the words out ,and Jenna frowned again when Kim finally turned to face her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and her eyes were so wide that it almost looked like they might pop right out of her head. "Jenna, it's true – all of it! Something's wrong. Something's happening!"

Jenna blinked at Kim, fear and uncertainty sweeping through her at those words. Finally, as the sound of a distant voice reached her ears, she remembered that her mother was still on the phone. While Kim turned back to the window to peer outside, Jenna cursed and pressed the phone to her ear again. "Jenna! Answer me!" her mother was practically screaming on the other end once Jenna could hear her again.

"Mom, relax. I'm here," Jenna told her, forcing her voice to remain calm despite the momentary chaos that had just erupted in her kitchen.

Her mother heaved a huge sigh of relief over the phone. "Oh, thank God you're alright," she said in relief. "You have to be careful, Jenna! You don't understand! Things are starting to get - "

Jenna's mother continued to ramble on, but most of what she was saying was falling on deaf ears. Because paranoia had finally begun to seize Jenna – why wouldn't she be alright? What exactly had Kim seen outside? Why was downtown Huston being quarantined? What in the hell was going on?

Deciding that things had gotten far too strange in the past couple of minutes, Jenna headed for the living room to click on the television and see if there were any breaking news reports. Her anxiety only worsened when instead of the usual showing of Wheel of Fortune, a bright red ticker has appeared at the bottom of screen and a worried looking news anchor was speaking. " – among the infected areas. Military personnel and police forces have been deployed to begin evacuations, and aid will be offered to those in need of medical attention once safely transported to a protected location. It is strongly advised that all citizens stay indoors until further notice and to avoid any close contact with anyone showing signs of an attack."

Each word that the news anchor said made her heart pound harder in her chest. How could this be happening? Wasn't this just supposed to be a joke? Hadn't this just been some long-winded hoax?

"Oh my God." Kim had followed her into the living room by now and was staring at the screen with a stunned expression that Jenna was sure mimicked the one on her own face. "It's happening, Jenna. This is really happening."

Before Jenna could response, a loud, unmistakable BANG of a gunshot suddenly echoed outside, making both of them jump and let out sounds of surprise. Jenna turned a look on her neighbor, then hurried to the window to try and see what was going on, ignoring Kim's terrified urges for her not to. The limited view from the living room window revealed nothing out of the ordinary, but Jenna wasn't very comforted by that fact – there was definitely something wrong, now she just had to figure out what she was supposed to do about it.

It took her only a second to come to a quick decision. "Mom, stay right where you are," she instructed her mother over the phone. "Don't go outside, don't open the door, don't even go to the window. I'm coming over right now." Jenna brushed past a near hysterical Kim as she made for the bedroom. "Call Sam and tell him what's going on," she instructed her mother next. "He'll know what we need to do, okay?"

"Alright," her mother readily agreed. "Be safe. Please be safe! I love you!"

"I love you, too. I'll see you in a few minutes."

Jenna had only just ended the call when the back door burst open for the second time in only a matter of minutes. Kim screamed in fright from the living room while Jenna froze in the hallway, her heart leaping up into her throat. Before either woman could so much as move even a finger, however, a tall, brown-haired man wielding a hunting rifle came striding into view. It was Jenna's boyfriend, Jon, and the moment they caught sight of one another, they both sighed in relief and rushed forward to embrace each other.

"Thank God, you're alright," Jon said, pressing a kiss to her red hair. When he pulled back, his eyebrows were furrowed and there was a no-nonsense frown on his lips. "Jen, we gotta get outta here. There's – "

"I know," she interrupted quickly. She wasn't sure if she'd done so just to save time or if it was because she just didn't want to hear Jon say the 'z' word aloud. "I saw the news."

Jon nodded and started to say something else, but paused when a still teary-eyed Kim came cautiously creeped around the corner. He frowned at her and looked her over with scrutinizing eyes for a moment, before quickly turning his attention back to Jenna. "Pack up the necessities," he instructed her without wasting any more time. "We're gettin' the hell outta dodge."

"B-but the n-news report said – " Kim began to say.

"Fuck what they said," Jon interrupted sharply. "We need to get outta the city, get away from all these people. This shit spreads fast and things are already starting to get crazy. If we don't get out now, then we may not get out at all…not alive, at least." His words sent Kim into another round of hysterics, but he didn't seem affected by it. "Pack quickly," he urged Jenna, pushing her gently in the direction of her bedroom.

"We have to get my mom," she told him, using a tone that left no room for argument.

"We will," Jon agreed. "Then we're gettin' my folks and gettin' outta the city."

With that being said, Jenna was off to her room while Jon began to raid the pantry. She could distantly hear him rummaging around and throwing canned goods into plastic sacks while she began wildly searching through her room for anything she thought she might need – phone, phone charger, underwear, clothes, shoes. Within moments the room looked as though a tornado had ripped through it because of her hasty, unorganized packing. Once she had a bag stuffed to capacity, she headed into the study. Jenna went to a small filing cabinet in the corner to grab a few important documents, just in case.

Another gunshot sounded outside, followed by a distant, bloodcurdling scream. Jenna froze, the blood in her veins going cold. Was this it then? Was this the end of life as she knew it? For a moment it was difficult to breathe, difficult to really even think. The chaos, the fear, the uncertainty...it was all so overwhelming.

"Jenna, let's go!" Jon called impatiently from the kitchen.

The words snapped her back to reality and forced her feet forward again. There was something big happening, something life-changing whether Jenna wanted to believe it or not, but now was not the time to let her fear get the better of her. Right now she had to concentrate on getting her mother and getting the hell out of town – she could worry about everything else later, once they had reached safety.

Kim had managed to pull herself together enough so that she could talk somewhat calmly with Jon. When Jenna re-entered the kitchen, the blonde was in the middle of telling him what she'd seen. " – just crouched over her," she explained in a shaky voice. "And there was blood everywhere…and…and I think he was – " Kim gagged for a moment and had to cover her mouth with her hand, looking like she might vomit. " – eating her."

Jenna shared a look with Jon over Kim's head as the woman dissolved into tears again. Jon heaved and cast an untrusting glare in the direction of the door.

"Alright," he said slowly. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to come up with a plan. "Alright," he repeated, now looking a bit more confident. "Jen, you head for the truck and don't stray," he instructed with a stern point of his finger. "Kim, make a run for your house. I'll cover you until you're inside. Then you go find whoever you need to and you guys get outta town, do you hear me?"

Kim paled, not looking overly fond of the plan, but Jon didn't give her any time to argue. He passed Jenna the bags of canned goods, readied his gun, then motioned for Kim to head for the door.

"We're not bringing her with us?" Jenna asked Jon quietly, glancing toward Kim as she peered anxiously out the window. It wasn't like she and Kim were life-long best friends or anything, but Jenna had assumed that since her neighbor was already with them that she might end up staying with them.

Jon frowned then slowly shook his head. "We can't be responsible for everyone we know, babe," he replied lowly. "We need to worry about us and our own first."

Jenna sighed but nodded in understanding. While they continued to prepare to depart, she slung her bag of belongings over her shoulder and snatched up her purse with her free hand, her eyes surveying the kitchen one last time as she tried to determine if there was anything else they needed…and it was then, in that moment, that it really dawned on her.

If this problem, this outbreak was bad enough, this may very well be the last time she ever stepped foot in this house. Everything she had worked so hard for, the life she had built for herself, the future she'd had planned out...it was all on the verge of being ripped away. Jenna pressed her lips together in a tight line to fight back the mounting emotions within. Her eyes finally landed on the fridge, and she immediately strode over, juggling the items in her hands so that she could yank down the pictures of her family mounted on the door and stuff them into her purse.

"Jen, come on!" Jon urged.

She finally rejoined Jon and Kim. Her boyfriend wasted no time to slowly open the door, while she and Kim clung to each other in fearful anticipation. Jenna almost expected some gruesome, bloody monster to jump out at them at any moment, but, thankfully, that didn't happen. The only thing waiting on the other side of the door was Jon's truck.

A third gunshot cracked through the air, sounding much louder and much closer, and the three of them flinched at the sound. Jon poked his head out to look around to make sure the coast was clear, then motioned for Kim and Jenna to follow him. "Alright…let's go," he finally said before raising his rifle and leading them outside.

Though Jenna felt exposed and vulnerable the instant she stepped outside, she pulled Kim into a tight hug before the woman could go running for her house as Jon had commanded. The embrace pulled another round of tears from Kim as she hugged Jenna back just as fiercely. "Good luck," Jenna said, trying not to show how afraid she was when she and Kim pulled away from one another. "Get to your family and get out, okay?"

Kim nodded. "Good luck to you guys, too."

Jenna nodded, then watched as Kim ran for her house. Jon had dropped down to a knee and kept his rifle raised, eyes alert and searching for any signs of incoming danger. Jenna finally went to the truck, just as Jon had told her, and threw her bags into the backseat before hauling herself up into the passenger seat. She closed the door, looking through the window fearfully and watching as some of her neighbors began scrambling to pack things into their cars. What would happen to them? What would happen to everyone?

The second Kim disappeared into her house, Jon abandoned his post and jumped into the driver's seat. As he started up the loud, roaring engine, Jenna turned to look at him before reaching over to grab his hand, holding it tightly. Jon returned the gesture, locking his fingers with hers, then kissed the top of her hand. Then he released her and moved the shifter into reverse, backing away from her house before turning onto the road and surging forward. Jenna glanced back at her townhouse one last time as it shrunk into the distance, until it finally disappeared from sight completely.


Getting out of Houston had been a fiasco. There had been pandemonium everywhere. Looters had begun invading electronic stores, grocery stores became overrun, gas stations turned into madhouses...and that was all before the disease had really even begun to spread, before the S.W.A.T. team showed up, and before policemen with large plastic shields began marching through the streets. By the time Jenna, Jon, and their parents had made it to I-10, the reports on the radio were all the same – infection was spreading quickly, and sightings of the walking dead were piling up.

It had seemed so surreal at first, so impractical, but eventually Jenna was forced to face the truth. The unthinkable had happened, and life as she and everyone else knew it was over. Of all the dangers that humans had feared – cancer, global-warming, terrorists, natural disasters – the end had come in the most unlikely of forms. Zombies.

Jenna had always claimed that if a disaster like this struck, then she'd have no problems surviving. Having watched horror movie after horror movie and criticized numerous victims for their poor decision making, she'd been fairly confident that she knew what and what not to do in order to stay alive should she ever find herself in a similar situation. But thinking you can survive a zombie apocalypse and actually being in one, Jenna quickly learned, were two very different things. She, along with everyone else in the world, had to change, had to adapt to a way of living that was completely foreign to her. She had to learn how to shoot. She had to learn how to scavenge for supplies. She had to learn how to kill the chompers that had invaded the world like a horrible plague. Before the apocalypse, Jenna's life had been a simple one, a life of routine and order and where she wasn't faced with life or death situations on a near constant basis. This new life – where danger lurked around every corner, where no one could be trusted, and where she was never guaranteed a next meal or even another day of life – had made her realize just how horribly she had taken her old one for granted.

In the beginning the plan had seemed simple – her older brother, Sam, who had been stationed at Fort Benning for over two years, had instructed Jenna and her group to drive to Georgia and take refuge with him at the military base. There's plenty of food supplies and lots of medicine, he'd told them. This place is impenetrable. You'll be completely safe here. Since he was family and since they really hadn't known what else to do, they had all agreed that going to Fort Benning was their best option. After all - where else could they even go in the huge, burning pile of shit that was now their world?

Unfortunately, they had all underestimated just how dangerous the road to Fort Benning would actually be. And now, sixty-something days into the apocalypse, Jenna was the only person from her group still alive and still trying desperately to reach Fort Benning. She'd thought about giving up countless times, had acknowledged the possibility that she might never make it there or, even worse, that her brother might already be dead. But somehow, someway, she'd found it in herself to keep pushing forward, keep trying, keep hoping. Because at the end of the day, Sam was all that she had left in this horrible, terrifying world. And she was going to find him.

Or she was going to die trying.

~*T*C*~

Chapter 1

"Well…shit."

With a giant heave, Jenna lowered the binoculars she'd just been peering through and shifted uneasily, eyeing the city that stretched out before her with a disgruntled expression.

Venturing into a place like downtown Atlanta was usually against her rules – in the past, nearly every trip through a greater metropolitan area had proven to be nothing short of suicidal. There were always just too many chompers to take on, too many death traps just waiting to claim human lives. Unfortunately, however, the fact remained that she was low on weapons and ammo, and every store outside of the city had been ransacked ages ago. The chances that there were abandoned weapons lying around just ready for the taking were slim, but seeing as she was down to a handful of shotgun shells, a hatchet, and a baseball bat, well…there were really no other options laid before her. If Jenna wanted to be able to defend herself, there was no other choice but to start combing the streets for supplies.

It was a daunting task, especially so seeing as downtown Atlanta looked like the goddamn Coachella of the zombie apocalypse. There were chompers everywhere, which meant she was going to be severely outnumbered. But she had spotted some military vehicles during her initially scout of the area, which meant that some branch of the military had been set up here at some point. There was a chance they could have left behind something useful, which meant she had to go in. Plain and simple.

Deciding to just get things over with, Jenna heaved and kneeled down to stow her binoculars away in the duffel bag at her feet, before pulling out her hatchet and slipping it through her belt loop so it hung at her hip. She had learned the hard way that using a gun only attracted more of the flesh-eating monsters, so the shotgun stayed in the bag with the binoculars. Instead, she grabbed hold of the bat she used as her primary weapon more often than not, zipped her bag shut, then moved the duffel to hand from her shoulder. Then, with her bat in hand, she headed for the fire escape.

Be quick, Matthews. No straggling, don't get distracted, she mentally prepped herself while making her way back down to the street. Just find something useful and get the hell out.

The stench of rotting carcasses was overwhelming once she reached the last step and dropped down onto the pavement below. It was a smell that she was certain she would never get used to no matter how many chompers she ended up taking down. The scent was even stronger due to the sheer amount of chompers lurking not so far away, and it was so foul it left her fighting the urge to gag. Concentrating on breathing through her mouth rather then her nose helped suppress the wave of nausea enough so that she could fight through it and move forward.

Each step towards the main road through town made her heart pound harder against her ribs, but Jenna valiantly pushed past her apprehension and trudged forward resiliently, maneuvering the bag on her shoulder until it was hanging diagonally across her back. With both arms now free, Jenna tightened her grip on her bat and paused at the edge of the building to peek around and see what kind of obstacle course of terror awaited her – luckily there seemed to be only a handful of walkers where she was at the moment.

"In and out," she muttered to herself, carefully watching the decaying, disgusting parasites that ambled about. Then Jenna sucked in a steady breath before releasing it nervously. "Piece'a cake."

With that, she sunk down into a crouch and stealthily began slinking her way forward, leaving the safety of her hiding spot as she started to make her way into the open streets of downtown Atlanta.

Searching around for weapons whilst also trying to stay out of sight was not the easiest thing in the world. Jenna stopped to check cars for supplies as often as she could, but often found herself having to hide behind dumpsters or conceal herself amongst the deserted cars whenever chompers wandered to close. She kept going, managing to successfully weave her way down the street without drawing any attention to herself for several minutes. Yet the further she travelled into downtown, the more difficult it began to get to navigate her way around the chompers. She also began to notice that the scent of a nearby, living human seemed to finally be registering with the flesh-eaters she was sneaking her way past. A few blocks down, Jenna paused behind a large bus and watched with increasing alarm as a nearby group of flesh-eaters began turning their noses up into the air, resembling hound-dogs as they started sniffing out a possible meal. Without a second thought, Jenna took a sharp turn down the next alley she came across and quickly scurried away, happy to put some distance between her and the creatures that'd love nothing more than to snack on her spleen.

Jenna paused about halfway down, trying to decide where to go from there. Now what? She glanced left towards the main street, then right towards a back-road. It was the sight of a busted-up pickup on the back-road that finally caught her interest, and she only contemplated her options for one more moment before deciding to check it out – a muddy pickup in Georgia? It practically screamed redneck. And every redneck that she had ever known had usually been armed to the teeth at all times.

Jenna turned right and headed away from the main road, but in her eagerness to see what sort of treasures awaited in the truck, she forgot to make sure that the path to the vehicle was a safe one. As soon as she strode out of the shadows of the alley, there was a horrible snarl to her right. A chomper was there, and it came after her without hesitation, forcing her to jump out of the way as it tried to grab her with bloody, decaying hands.

The smell of decaying flesh assaulted her senses so harshly that her eyes watered, but she managed to overcome both the grotesque smell and her surprise at the thing's sudden appearance before swinging the bat in her hands with all of her might. It connected with the chomper's head with a sickening THUNK, spattering blood in every direction and sending the flesh-eater tumbling to the ground. Two more firm hits to the head successfully ended the thing's pitiful existence, and she paused once it was no longer moving, crouching low in an attempt to make herself smaller and scanning the area to make sure the sound of the scuffle hadn't attracted any of the monster's friends. When no other zombies made an appearance, she breathed a little easier.

With her window of opportunity getting smaller with each passing second, Jenna hastily made for the truck and practically dove into the open passenger seat in her haste to get out of sight as quickly as possible. She ignored the blood decorating a large portion of the inside - blood, she couldn't help but notice, that seemed fairly fresh - and started rifling through the debris inside, pushing things aside, checking the glove compartment, and searching underneath the seats. The hunt, unfortunately, produced nothing useful.

Jenna backed out of the truck with a curse and a heave, pausing to stare at it for a moment with her hands on her hips. That was when she spotted the metal toolbox in the bed. Immediately Jenna hoisted herself up into the bed of the truck to check it out, but cursed again upon seeing that the toolbox was securely locked with a padlock. Hoping and praying that whoever had owned the truck had left in a hurry and forgotten to take his or her keys with them, she leaned in through the busted out back-window and peered around the cab again, searching hopefully for keys.

In what she was pretty sure was her first stroke of good fortune in over a month, Jenna located the keys in the ignition.

As soon as she had them in hand she began inspecting each individual key, searching for the one that might fit into the padlock. Once Jenna had found one that she thought might be correct, she wasted no time sliding it into the lock – she made a small sound of triumph when the padlock jumped apart and immediately scrambled to unhook it from the toolbox, tossing the metal object carelessly to the side once it was free. The metal lid creaked loudly as she lifted it up, but Jenna didn't have time to worry about the noise it was making – she was far more concerned with whatever might be lying inside.

Wrenches, large wire cutters, fence tool pliers…they weren't guns and they certainly weren't her top choices when it came to weapons, but they were quiet and would do some serious damage if swung at a zombie's head. Each tool wound up stowed away in her bag.

With a groan, Jenna then pulled out the heavy shelf in the toolbox, grinning widely as soon as she saw what was hiding underneath – a handgun, an almost completely full box of bullets, and a half empty box of shotgun shells. "Thank God for rednecks," Jenna said aloud, feeling rather pleased with the way this trip was panning out.

A loud crash suddenly sounded from the alleyway and immediately had Jenna dropping down out of sight, her momentary elation dissipating in an instant as she was reminded just where she was at that particular moment in time. She heard the distant sound of feet pounding on pavement, which sounded a lot like someone running away from something. Jenna was sorely tempted to see what was going on, feeling pretty certain that she had just heard another survivor making a run for safety, but forced herself to stay hidden. It was smarter not to get involved with any strangers. It was safer.

Finally, when she could no longer hear the person running away anymore, Jenna took a cautious peek over the side of the truck. Her eyes swept the area, but there was nothing to see. Jenna was alone. She stood up, gaze sweeping the area again. The ruckus the stranger had created didn't seem to have drawn any attention yet, but she was well aware that there were still plenty of chompers not so far away and that they could come stumbling in her direction at any given moment. So, having decided that she had risked her neck enough for one afternoon, there seemed no better time than the present to wrap up her little excursion and head back to her own truck…but not before making sure her newly acquired gun was loaded and tucked into the waistband of her overly-large jeans, just in case.


The journey out of the city was significantly longer than the one in. A few more undead bastards ended up on the wrong end of Jenna's bat, interfering a little with her journey back, and the added weight of the tools in her bag slowed her down considerably. Eventually she made it back to the building she'd used to scope out downtown, though, and from there it was only a matter of following the sporadic, bright green marks she'd made with a can of spray paint in order to find her way back to the truck. Jenna's clothes were covered in zombie blood and her back was killing her because of the weight of her newly acquired weapons, but for once Lady Luck finally seemed to be smiling down on her. She'd manage to scrounge up some desperately needed weapons, and for once the trip hadn't ended with her running for her life. That was enough to label the day a success in her book.

The metal tools clinked together as she hiked the bag up higher on her shoulder and Jenna winced at the strain it was putting on her body. Two months ago, she could have toted the bag around with ease, but lack of nutrition and constant travel had shrunk her once strong, healthy, one-hundred-and-forty pound frame into a much skinnier, much weaker figure. The clothes that had been appropriately sized only months ago were much baggier now, and the display of sharp bones that could be spotted at her hips and shoulders would have absolutely made her mother's head spin. For a moment Jenna could hear her mother's chastising voice in her hear, could imagine the stern lecture she would have received if her mother had seen her like this. When those thoughts only served to bring forth a torrent of emotions that she didn't particularly want to deal with right then, however, she determinedly pushed her mother's would-be lecture out of mind.

Almost there, Jenna told herself encouragingly as she trudged along. The sun had only risen higher into the sky as the day had dragged on, and though she hadn't thought it possible, it seemed to have gotten even hotter. Jenna started to use her shirt to wipe away the sweat running down from her forehead but then rethought the decision once she saw just how much blood was staining the worn cotton. She plucked at the shirt with a sour expression and shook her head in disgust – what wouldn't she give to have a shower right then? Hell, when was the last time she'd even attempted to bathe?

Jenna decided right then and there that the first thing she was going to do when she arrived at Fort Benning was take the longest, hottest shower of her entire life.

She was just turning around a corner and heading for the underpass she'd parked the truck under, feeling immensely relieved that she'd made it back in one piece, when the sound of echoing voices suddenly reached her ears.

" – still warm underneath the hood. Couldn't've been here long," a thickly accented voice was explaining. "Don't see no food or nothin'. No ammo, neither."

"Think we should take it?" another voice asked. "It looks pretty cool."

"Don't seem like a bad idea," the first voice agreed. "Looks like this thing's rigged up to run right over geeks. Certainly wouldn't mind that."

It only took a second for Jenna to deduce that the men she was listening to had found her truck and were contemplating stealing it.

Now, it was a very strict rule of hers to avoid other survivors if possible. But seeing as her only form of transportation was on the line, well…sometimes rules needed to be broken. While the men continued debating whether they should take the truck or not, Jenna unzipped her bag, tossed the bat into it, then reached for her shotgun. Confronting these strangers was risky – and a bit frightening – but she now had plenty of weapons to protect herself with if things got messy. So with squared shoulders and a determined jut of her chin, Jenna readied her gun and strode forward until she could finally spot the men surrounding her large, black truck.

There were four of them. Two were standing off to the side, one a brown-haired fellow in a cop uniform and the other a burly black man, while two more, an Asian and a rugged looking white man, were snooping around in the truck. None of them noticed her until she cocked her shotgun and the sound echoed off of the concrete underpass. In an instant all four were at attention and turning to face her, all looking at her with similar expressions of surprise.

"I'm only gonna ask you to get away from my truck once," Jenna told them firmly, taking a few more slow steps in their direction. Seeing as the rugged looking one was practically in the driver's seat already and regarding her with open distaste, Jenna turned her full attention, and her gun, on him. "Kindly step away."

"Oh, yeah? What ya gonna – " the man started to snap back confrontationally.

"Daryl." The cop's sharp interjection made the man named Daryl fall silent. "Get away from the lady's truck."

Daryl really looked like he wanted to argue with the cop, but he gritted his teeth instead and took a few steps away from the truck. It was only then that Jenna realized he had a crossbow in his right hand. He brought it up to rest against his shoulder, and though the move itself wasn't overly threatening, there was a look in his eye that let her know he'd have absolutely no qualms using it on her if he had to.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We didn't mean any harm," the cop said, drawing Jenna's attention back over to him. He had his hands raised in the universal sign of 'I come in peace'. "We were just curious. That's all."

Jenna didn't say anything in return, but took a moment to look at each man. The black man had an unreadable expression on his face, but the Asian's wide eyes were flickering back and forth between Jenna, the cop, and country-boy Daryl in obvious anxiety.

"Are you alone?" the cop asked.

Past experiences had left Jenna with zero trust in strangers – plain and simple. And at that moment, she was sorely tempted not to offer up any information to this motley group of men. But at the same time it was hard to overlook the genuine concern in the cop's eyes, so Jenna shifted on her feet, eyeing each man untrustingly again, before meeting the cop's gaze. "I might be," she finally answered, being as vague as possible.

The cop nodded slowly. "Well, my name is Rick Grimes. That there is T-Dog," he began to introduce, starting with the black man, "Glenn," he continued, motioning to the Asian next, "and Daryl." Jenna's eyes lingered longer on Daryl, whom she shared a glare with. "Is it too much to ask that you lower your gun, ma'am?"

"That's not happening," Jenna told Rick immediately, turning her eyes back to him.

Rick pursed his lips. "We're not gonna hurt you," he told her reassuringly.

"Yeah, well, in my experience I've learned it's better to be safe than sorry." Rick seemed a little taken aback by this statement. His eyebrows raised a little as he shared a look with T-Dog. He started to say something else, but Jenna spoke over him. "I'm not really lookin' to make friends here. There's hundreds of flesh-eating pests not all that far from here and I'd like to clear out. So why don't y'all just get a move on so I can leave, yeah?"

Jenna waved them away with her gun, silently telling them to back off and making sure to keep a hard look in place so as to carefully conceal how nervous she was actually feeling. Rick nodded and motioned for Daryl and Glenn to back away from the truck while he and T-Dog moved to get out of her way. As Jenna moved closer to her truck, Glenn scampered off like his pants were on fire. Daryl, however, took his time, glaring at Jenna with brazen dislike and making sure to stride within a few feet from her, probably in an attempt to be intimidating. She would never admit to it, but it had worked.

Once they were a safe distance away she backed her way toward the driver's side door, keeping her gun trained on the group of men the entire way. She'd almost made it there when Rick spoke up again. "Texas, huh? Long way from home," he said, studying the license plate for a moment. "Anywhere in particular you're headed?"

The last time she'd heard that question from a stranger it had ended in disaster. A warning bell immediately went off in her mind. "Why do you wanna know?" she asked suspiciously, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

Rick seemed to understand he'd struck a nerve and held his hands up again, the look on his face silently telling her that he'd meant nothing by the question. "We've got a camp not far from here. Not just with more men but with women and children, too, my family included," he explained in a calm tone. "You must have a reason for comin' out this far. If you know somethin' we don't, well…I'd sure like to be enlightened."

Now there was an internal war waging within her head. She knew better than to reveal too much about herself by now, knew she shouldn't trust these strange men that had been contemplating taking one of the few lifelines she had left. But something about Rick just seemed trustworthy. Not to mention the fact that they were four men who were all much bigger and stronger than her – shotgun or no they could have easily overthrown her by now if they'd really wanted to, and they hadn't.. Jenna shuffled on her feet, debating if she should give Rick an answer or not, before she heaved heavily.

"Headed to a military base," she finally answered, trying not to go into specifics.

"Fort Benning, maybe?" Rick asked for clarification.

"C'mon, Grimes," Daryl interjected before she could answer. There was still a scowl on his face, and by now he was looking mighty impatient. "We ain't got time for this shit. Leave the bitch an' let's go."

The rude name had Rick cringing and her lifting a dangerous eyebrow. "Excuse me?" Jenna asked sharply, turning her attention to him again.

"Did I stutter?" Daryl snapped back.

Jenna's grip on the gun tightened and she narrowed her eyes at him, momentarily forgetting that she needed to play it safe and tread carefully with these men as her anger flared. "Can you even spell stutter, hillbilly?"

"Why you – "

Daryl took a threatening step toward Jenna, but Rick stopped him by throwing an arm out in front of his chest. Jenna shifted again, starting to feel a little anxious with this predicament, and watched as Rick and Daryl had a quick, hushed argument that was too quiet to hear. Once Rick was finished saying his piece, Daryl tossed an indignant hand up and turned to begin impatiently pacing. Neither T-Dog nor Glenn seemed too keen to interfere with anything, choosing to silently watch the scene unfold instead.

"Listen, I know you don't trust me," Rick stated bluntly, refocusing his attention on Jenna. "But I'd be lyin' if I said lettin' you go ahead on your own didn't worry me. It's not safe and, well, it just doesn't feel right."

Jenna cast a quick look towards Daryl, whose agitation was growing by the second, then met Rick's pleading stare again. As anxious as Daryl was making her, there was still nothing but sincerity in Rick's eyes. It was almost enough to make her decide to give him the benefit of the doubt – almost. "I've managed fine on my own. I'll be good until Fort Benning."

"There's a whole camp – " Glenn finally started to speak up.

"No thank you," Jenna interrupted firmly.

Glenn pressed his lips together tightly and nodded once, not attempting to persuade Jenna any further. Rick, on the other hand, wasn't going to give up so easily. He took a step forward. "Drivin' in from Texas you must'a come in from I-10, right?" he asked.

Rick's new approach made her frown at him in confusion. What was he playing at now? "Yeah…" she said slowly.

He tilted his head at her, his eyebrows raising some. "So if you were headed to Fort Benning, how'd you end up in Atlanta?"

Jenna glanced at T-Dog and Glenn for a second, who seemed equally confused as to why he was asking such questions. "I took the 75," she told him, though it sounded more like a question than a statement in her puzzlement.

"Thought you might've," Rick said with a nod. "To get to Fort Benning from I-10 ya shoulda gotten off at the 65," he explained to her knowingly. "You've been takin' the long way, ma'am. Very long way. If you'd had someone to point ya in the right direction, ya wouldn't have wasted so many resources." He gave her a friendly little smile. "Ya see? Bein' in a group has its advantages."

Jenna frowned at his attempt at reverse psychology – she'd known which road she was supposed to take because Jon had drilled the directions into her head countless times, having known very well that she was directionally-challenged and wanting to make sure she knew the way in case something happened to him. "I didn't come this way by choice," she told Rick firmly, quickly coming to her own defense. "The 65 was jam packed by the time I made it there. I didn't have any other option but to take the long way around."

"I see," Rick said with a nod of his head. Then he glanced down at her bag. "Must be real low on supplies if you braved a city full'a walkers by yourself," he observed. "And it don't look like ya got any food at the moment." When Jenna said nothing in response, Rick sighed heavily. "Look, we've got a camp not far from here, by the quarry. There's food, shelter, protection…" He trailed off and glanced back at his comrades, as though seeking permission – Glenn was the only one to nod his head in encouragement. "You're welcome 'ta come and stay with us, even if just for tonight. You'd have a decent meal an' a good night's sleep."

Jenna stared at Rick for a long moment before sighing and finally lowering her gun. The tension immediately left Rick's shoulders in response to this move and he offered a quick smile, nodding at her encouragingly.

She'd encountered plenty of strangers on her way to Georgia and, unfortunately, most of them had been nothing but trouble. Rick, on the other hand, seemed different. There wasn't even a hint of hostility to him, only a welcoming, friendly vibe that was very hard to ignore. But try as she might, Jenna simply couldn't forget all of the hardships that she'd faced by being too trusting of strangers. As tempting as a good meal and safe place to sleep sounded, she just couldn't bring herself to break her own rules and join these new acquaintances.

"Listen, Rick – " Jenna paused when Daryl let out a massive, irritable heave and shot a dirty look in his direction. "I wanna believe you're a good person and that you're being sincere," she continued, focusing on Rick now. "But I just can't find it in me to trust you…not enough to join your group, anyway. Not even for a night."

Rick looked thoroughly disheartened by her words. "Alright then," he said in resignation, clearly giving up on trying to sway Jenna's decision. "Do you know the way to Fort Benning from here?"

"Just gotta hop on the 85, right?"

"Right," Rick said with a nod. "Mind if I show you a few alternate routes?" he then asked with raised eyebrows. "That way you'd have a backup plan 'case ya run into trouble…and it'd give me a little peace'a mind," he added with a pointed look, obviously displeased with Jenna's decision to continue on by herself.

Jenna thought it over for a second, remembered how horrible her sense of direction was when she was in unfamiliar territory, then nodded her head in agreement. Rick started towards her and, out of habit, she backed away to keep some space between them – it was obvious that he noticed the move on her part, but he said nothing about it, merely continued on as though he hadn't seen anything.

"There's a map in the passenger seat," Jenna said, jerking her head towards the truck. She could have grabbed it herself, but decided to keep both hands on her gun instead, just in case.

Rick nodded, stepped around her, and leaned into the truck to grab the map. The others seemed a little apprehensive, probably worried that she'd do something to the man that was obviously the one in charge, but none of them made any moves to come closer, just watched alertly from where they stood.

Once the map was splayed out on the hood, Jenna diverted her attention back to Rick, listening intently to his directions as he started pointing out certain routes on the map. It occurred to her that this would have been a golden opportunity for Rick if he wanted to attack her, but nothing about his demeanor seemed aggressive even in the slightest. Again, she found herself contemplating if she should trust him, if she should accept the help that he was offering, but decided against it in the end – her mission was to get to Sam. And even though he seemed friendly, for all she knew trusting Rick Grimes could end up being the biggest mistake she'd ever make.

Once Rick was finished giving directions, he rolled up the map and offered it to her. She glanced at it, unwilling to take a hand off her gun to accept it, and watched as he chose to toss it into the truck instead. Then he turned back to her and ran a hand through his hair before dropping his hands to rest on his hips. She briefly eyed the gun hanging on his hip, but he made no move to grab it.

"If you change your mind you know where we're stayin'," Rick told her with a small frown. "Tell our people I sent you an' I'm sure you'll be welcomed."

"Noted," Jenna said in response, even though she had no intentions of paying Rick's camp a visit.

Rick nodded, paused for a second, then stuck his hand out. Jenna stared at it unsurely for a moment, before slowly moving one of her hands off the gun to grasp his. She tensed as they shook hands, half-expecting an attack to come or for the other three to jump into action, but nothing of the sort happened. "My thoughts'll be with you," Rick told her earnestly. "Be safe…" He trailed off with a guilty smile. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name, ma'am."

"Jenna."

Rick nodded again. "Be safe, Jenna."

Then he released her hand and turned around to go and rejoin his companions. Jenna immediately relaxed, starting to feel a bit awe-struck now that the encounter was coming to a close. These were the first strangers she'd come across in God knows how long that hadn't had some ulterior, underlying motive. It was strange, it was unexpected, and, admittedly, it left her feeling a little uncertain as to whether she'd made the right decision or not.

"Fuckin' finally," Daryl growled, not even sparing Jenna another look before turning and stalking off.

Rick immediately followed after him. T-Dog gave a quick nod in Jenna's direction, then wandered off himself. Glenn, on the other hand,lingered with an uncertain expression on his face. "Rick's right, you know. It's not safe on your own," he said with a little shrug.

"Maybe not, but it isn't always safe in a group either," Jenna countered matter-of-factly.

Glenn opened his mouth to say something else, but Daryl beat him to the punch. "Come on, china-man!" he called over his shoulder impatiently. "Leave the idiot to die on 'er own!"

There was a biting remark hanging on the tip of Jenna's tongue reserved especially for the crass, crossbow-wielding Daryl, but she decided to keep it to herself as she glared at his back – if nothing else, she took comfort in the fact that not joining their group meant she wouldn't have to deal with him. Glenn shot Jenna an apologetic frown, then waved goodbye and turned to leave, having to jog to catch up with the rest of the group. Jenna only watched them go for a few more moments until the weight of her bag reminded her how sore and tired her body was becoming – it was time to get out of the city and find a place to hunker down for the night.

Jenna hauled the bag off, tossed it into the truck, then sighed in relief as she slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. She was going to do nothing but rest tonight - she certainly thought she'd earned that much after having such a successful day. Then, tomorrow, with her new weapons and the added bonus of Rick Grimes' directions, she'd be on her way out of Atlanta and headed for Fort Benning. Tthe thought brought a genuine smile to her face for the first time in nearly a month.

As Jenna set her shotgun off to the side and started up the loud, roaring engine of her truck, she took a moment to look around and see if she could still spot the four men, but they'd already disappeared. She knew all too well what sort of danger waited for them in downtown having just been through herself, and suddenly, inexplicably, she felt a little guilty for not warning them. They're from here, Jenna reasoned with herself. They probably already know. But there was still an uneasy feeling in her stomach that completely contradicted both her decision to not join Rick's group and the walls she'd been building up around herself since the day she'd been left vulnerable and alone in this terrible world.

Jenna sighed and shook her head to clear away the confusing thoughts, then finally pulled away, setting off for the roads that Rick had directed her towards. "Good luck, guys," she found herself muttering despite everything. "Stay alive."


Thoughts?