The Undead Secret (A Walking Dead Fan Fiction)

The Atlanta Survivors

"Topanga Joy?"

"Daryl Dixon, you look just as rough and raunchy as I remember." Topanga laughed, walking towards the man as her daughter followed behind.

"You two know each other?" The man who had found them in the city, wearing a police uniform & a cowboy hat stood, a gun on his belt clip and a younger boy holding his hand.

"Old fri-"
"We had sex twenty years ago." Topanga cut him off.

"What?" Jaime, Topanga's daughter, dropped their bags next to her, tired of carrying pounds of items for the last few hours, "I'm twenty!"

"He ain't your daddy, don't be stupid Jaime."

"You had a kid?" Daryl spoke, looking Jaime up and down. She had the same brown hair and blue eyes he had, even the same humor.

"Unfortunately." Jaime snickered.

"Shut it," Topanga spoke, "Let's go Jaime."

"Well wait a minute, I brought you all this way so you had a place to rest and somewhere to stay." The officer spoke, offering the first place to rest that they'd had in days.

"And that was very kind of you Officer, but my daughter and I will be on our way now."

"Please, call me Rick." The officer spoke, "Atleast stay awhile, have some food, water."

"No thanks, Rick. Let's go Jaime."

Jaime rolled her eyes, picking her backpack up as she slung it around her shoulder and picked up the rest of their bags.

"Topanga, let her decide on her own." Daryl sighed, gesturing towards the girl.

"Excuse me?"

"Topanga, she said she's twenty. You ain't in charge of her no more." Daryl locked eyes with Jaime, his eyes moving from her to the ground as he raised his eyebrows and she quickly dropped their bags again. "Let's stay. Atleast for a few days." Jaime nodded.

"No, final answer." Topanga laughed, stopping quickly as Daryl picked up the bags by Jaime's feet, "You carry the bags then Topanga."

"Ah for fucks sake." Topanga grumbled, as Daryl shoved the bags in her hands. She struggled to even move with all the weight in her arms.

"Fuck this shit, we'll stay." Topanga groaned, dropping the bags. Jaime go set up our tent."

Jaime sighed, picking up the tent bag as Rick cleared his throat. "Alright, Carl. Go show our new friends where they can stay, okay?"

A little boy, probably around ten or eleven smiled, grabbing Jaime's hand as he ran towards an open area of their commune, next to an RV and a few other tents.

"You can set it up here! Me and my dad stay over there." He pointed to a grey tent.

"Thanks, what's your name again?"
"Carl. Carl Grimes. That's my mom over there, her names Lori." He pointed to a woman in a teal blue tank top and jeans, brown hair and brown eyes.
"She seems like real a nice lady." Jaime smiled.

"She's great. Your names Jaime right?"

"Yup."

"Woooahh! Cool! Is this your gun?" Carl picked up her satchel, pulling a small pistol out.

"Oh, don't touch that!" Jaime gasped, pulling it away from him. "Never touch a gun that isn't yours unless you know it's unloaded, accidents can and will happen." She tucked it back in her satchel bag.

***

"Dinner!" Lori yelled out.

"Come on Jaime!" Carl jumped up, grabbing her hand as the two of them ran towards the campers lined up in the middle of the makeshift neighborhood, blocking off the area from any walkers.

Carl handed her a paper plate, and pointed to the cooked meat on the fire. "Take whatever you want Jaime."

"Thanks, Carl."

Jaime reached over to take a piece off the log. She could practically taste the savory piece just by looking at it.

"Ow!" She pulled her hand back as Topanga slapped her. "You wait until everyone else is done."
"Yes ma'am." She whispered, putting her paper plate back in the stack, and sitting down on one of the old camping chairs. It was red, its fabric was tearing, but still holding.

She sat for a while, watching everybody grab their fixings and more, until there was none left for her to eat. Daryl, Topanga, Rick, Lori, Carl, and a few other people she had yet to be introduced to as well.

She stood up slowly, making sure nobody else saw her as she snuck away back to their tent, lying down on her sleeping bag as she picked up a book, 'Mockingjay.'

"Jaime?" A hoarse voice spoke quietly from outside.

She sat up, unzipping the tent as she peeked her head out. "Yeah?"

It was Daryl.

He handed her a plastic baggy, "It's all I got. I know you didn't eat. Squirrel jerky."

"Thanks." She took it from him, and he cleared his throat. "Mind if I come in?"

"Take your shoes off before mother dearest loses her shit." She nodded.

"She always been like that?" He asked quietly.
"Since day one."
"Jesus. I'm sorry."
"Alright."

"I don't remember her being that uptight."
She laughed, biting into a piece of jerky, "No chance she was never that uptight."
"Yeah. Uh, what year were you born?"
"1990."
"Okay, uhh September 29th 1989. Met your mother in a bar in Georgia. She took me home, we smoked some weed, drank some more and had sex."
"Was it Tiquero's bar? Savannah Georgia, right?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"She told me she met my dad there, late 98 though."
"Where is your dad?"

"Dunno, I never met him. She told me he died before I was born."

"Did you ever want to meet him?"
"I always thought of it, trust me. No way she would be the way she is today if I had some type of father figure." She laughed.

"Jaime!"

Jaime jumped, nearly choking on the jerky in her mouth as she threw the bag at Daryl. "Take it, take it!" she whispered.

She stood up quickly, unzipping the tent as she stepped out, purposely hiding the opening with her body, "Yes ma'am?"

"Who you think you hiding in there?"

"What?"

"Who else is in there with you?"

"Um-"

"Jaime Michelle Joy, don't lie to me, move your skinny ass out the way!" She pulled Jaime out of the way, locking eyes with Daryl.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." She muttered.