Nothing but Dead (The Walking Dead Fanfic)

The Farm

Mitchel and Connor had walked all night, in a rather uneventfully adventure which was good for the two of them. With Connor still sick, and Mitchel still recovering from his wounds, it was a slow and painful journey.

They arrived at Hershel's farm in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark when there eyes fell upon the place. They saw a candle or a lantern in the window and knew it was safe to approach the house, hoping that others from the warehouse had made it.

It was now the afternoon, and the two of them were inside the farm house. Unfortunately, the light in the window they saw during the night wasn't made by anybody from the warehouse. Rather a girl named, Lakota was inside.

Lakota welcomed the two of them inside and asked them to sit down. She gave both of them medicine. Connor explained to her what has happened to them.

Mitchel has stayed quiet while Connor kept talking. He was wary of her. Something wasn't right about this. Mitchel saw no weapons, no guns inside the room they sat in. Was she all alone? Because they have seen no one else sense coming here.

Mitchel looked around the room quickly, to see if there was an kind of object he could use as a weapon if he had too. Sure enough, on the table next to him was a pair of scissors.

"It was cold out there...." Connor continued with his story.

"Connor." Mitchel called his name to make him stop talking, which worked. "Where are the others?"

Lakota looked over at Mitchel, kind of in shock to hear him speak for the first time. "Others?"

He reached over to the table and grabbed the pair of scissors and stood up, having them face her. "Don't play dumb with me..." He hissed.

"Mitchel..." Connor tried to stop him.

"I know there are others..." Mitchel looked around the house quickly. "What the hell is your story? Just letting two people in like that? Don't you know what people can do?"

She sat in shock as Mitchel yelled at her, she was helping out of the goodness of her heart. "There are others..." She began. Mitchel scoffed and looked out the window, looking for people. "They should be back by know though, they have been gone at least two nights now. I don't know what could be holding them up."

The angry and defensive mood that was inside of Mitchel quickly faded away when he heard her say that. He knew what had probably happened to them. A sense of sorrow rushed into him. She was alone, and she didn't even know it.

"We've always have helped people." She continued. "We have never had people problems. After all; its us and the dead now."

Mitchel turned around, there was no threat anymore. "I'm sorry." He set the pair of scissors down.

"For what?" She asked.

"Your people."

"They are coming back, they always come back."

He didn't want to say anything after that. He wanted to leave the subject alone, or at least change the topic of conversation. "Has anyone else been here? Have you seen anyone besides us?"

She shook her head no.

"We're the firsts then..." Mitchel glanced over at Connor.

"Probably the only ones to make it." Connor uttered. Mitchel's glare turns hard.

Lakota thought about about this man Mitchel was saying to her. She knew what he thought about her friends. She thought of it too, they were dead. Her mind would stop, start, she wanted to think about anything else. Her friends couldn't be dead.

She thought about last Christmas, at her Aunt's house; Herself, her brother, sister and parents and the rest of her close family there. It seemed to take her mind off of it for a few seconds, but it did not last, and she felt a sinking feeling of despair as she realized something she had been denying for the past day: her friends were dead.

Tears built in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry in front of these two guys she barely knew. She shook away the tears. "Only ones?" Lakota asked trying to get her mind off of everything.

Mitchel looked back at her. "Yeah, this place was our meeting spot. If anything went wrong we were to come here." He looked around the room, seeming to remember the times before the warehouse. "This used to be a man named Hershel's place. This is his farm. We called this home for a few months."

She wasn't too shocked to hear this. "It looked like it used to be somebody's, the supplies and all the dead ones outside."

Mitchel nodded his head. Memories from the past start to come back to him, he didn't want them. "Excuse me." Mitchel said by passing her and walking into the dining room.

The dining room was almost the same as he left it. The dining-room was exquisite. The walls were covered with a shimmering gold paper and in the middle of the ceiling above the carved oak table was a candelabra. Down the center of the table was a runner with Celtic design woven in gold and green into the fabric itself. At the end of the table were floor to ceiling french doors, left slightly ajar to let in the scented summer air. The polished silver cutlery was heavy to the hand and shone brightly in the early evening light.

All that was missing was the food and the guests.

He walked over too an old whiskey cabinet, though it was not used for whiskey. Hershel disapproved of drinking. However; he knew Jimmy hide a bottle in the cabinet. The cabinet was old, scratched and smelt of mothballs. It had clearly been designed by a draws enthusiast; there were 16 in total. This cabinet clearly didn't match the rest of the room. But this thing was huge.

Mitchel pushed the cabinet away from the wall a little, and he stuck his hand into the reaching and feeling for anything. Then he felt it, one bottle, hidden just as he suspected. He smiled as he pulled it from it's make shift hole in the back of the cabinet. He then pushed the cabinet back, opened the bottle and took a swig.

Connor and Lakota were left alone in the living room.

"I used to have a friend." Connor began to tell her. "His name was Adam, he actually died on the property here. He once told me that 'everyone can't be bad.' I guess you fit that category."

Lakota smiled in return. "He sounded like a good friend."

"He was, but we have all lost someone."

She looked as if she didn't want to talk about it. In fact, she knew she didn't want to talk about anything. She wanted to just sit there in silence. It was only out of good manner that she continued to talk to Connor.

The knock came quietly first and then there was silence, they both heard it. The two of them waited until they heard it again, this time the knock was louder and faster. It was somebody at the door.

Mitchel stood in the door way of the dining room with the bottle watching as Lakota and Connor got up and came to the doorway.

The door leading outside was scratched and dented with chipped brown varnish, it had a brass colored lock and door knob dulled with age and greasy fingermarks. A brass safety chain dangled at the side of the door.

She opened the door and Dave and Rebecca stood outside.