Once A Dixon, Always A Dixon (Daryl Dixon)

Tank-Bound (Edited)

Setting: Inside a tank, streets of Atlanta, Season One

Run. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

That's my life now. Not exactly my cup of tea, but hell, it gets my adrenaline pumping. Oh yeah, name's Nicole Jensen, but before shit hit the fan, my friends and my brother, Collin, called me Nico. That's how I got into this mess. I was trying to find my brother.

When I heard what was happening, I dropped everything and ran home. I called for my brother, but he wasn't here. I grabbed a machete (don't ask why I have that) and a backpack with food, a walkie-talkie, water, and some medical supplies. That's when I saw it. My neighbors were eating each other. I screamed and ran for my motorized scooter.

I biked for an hour until I ran out of fuel in the biter-infested streets of Atlanta. I killed as many biters as I could before I made haste in an empty tank. I took one more biter down; he was inside the tank.

That was two days ago. I'm almost out of food and water, and I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle. I held my machete to my chest. I didn't want to live in a world where someone's best friend could kill them. Just as I was about to plunge the blade into me, I heard a yell. I heard what sounded like a dying horse. I took the risk and opened the top of the tank.

Well would you look at that. It was a dying horse! I could make out the blurry silhouette of a man. He seemed strongly built and at least six feet tall. He wasn't going to survive for long out there. I could yell and get him over to me, but attract every biter in sight with him.

This man could have a family. A wife and kids. Or a husband, who knows. No way I was going to let someone else suffer what I have suffered. So I yelled. 

"Hey, mister! Over here!" I screamed. His head turned in my direction. So did the biters. He ran like his life depended on it.

Well, technically it did. I helped him on top of the tank and he climbed in. I sliced a biter's head and closed the top.

"Thank you," He said. His voice had a Southern drawl to it, clearly he's from around here.

"Where are you from?" I asked. "King's County," He responded. "I was a sheriff. My name's Rick Grimes. What's yours?"

"Nicole Jensen. But you can call me Nico," I smiled and held out a hand. He smiled back and shook it. I dug around in my backpack, trying to find any extra food. I found a small packet of Saltines. I offered the pack to him, but he shook his head.

"After what I saw out there, I think I've lost my appetite," He said jokingly. "You seem real young. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," I answered

"How long have you been out here?" He asked.

"About two days. I'm almost out of food and water. Heck, I was about to take my life before I heard your horse get eaten alive!"

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie in the tank crackled. A young male voice spoke, "Hey. You two dumbasses still alive in there?"

Well. That was rude.

I reached for the walkie-talkie and held down the "talk" button, "We're alive, but trapped! Can you get us out?"

"I can't. But you two dumbasses can. Listen, most of the walkers have left the tank and are joining the feast next to it. You can make a run for it. Run down the street and take a left. You'll find me and I can lead you to safety. Got it?"

"Yep," I said. The voice disappeared. I looked at Rick. He looked worried but determined. I nodded.

"Let's do this sucker!" I yelled as I opened the tank and we both hopped out. We attracted some walkers but kept running. We took a left at an alley and ran into someone. Rick drew his revolver but the man held up his hands.

"Whoa, whoa! Not dead! Follow me!" He said. This was the guy who we heard in the tank. He was a young Asian boy with a baseball cap. He led us to a yellow ladder that lead to a small perch. We climbed it and once we made it to the top, we stopped to catch our breath.

The Asian looked at us and smiled. "Glenn Rhee," He said and held out his hand to Rick. After a moment, he shook it.

"Rick Grimes. This is Nico Jensen," He said. I waved. I felt the perch shake.

"Oh shit," I exclaimed when I looked down. The, what did he call them? Walkers. Yeah, that's a better name for them. Anyway, the walkers were trying to climb the ladder. Glenn looked up. There was another ladder that led to the top of the building. It was our only escape.

"Well, the good news is, the fall will kill us, not the walkers," Glenn said. Rick and I gave him a look.

"I'm a glass half-full kind of guy," He explained. We made the long climb to the top. It wasn't hard. Heck, I've climbed trees taller than this. We climbed down another ladder that led to the inside of the building. We walked into another alley.

A door opened and two people in SWAT uniforms walked out and beat two walkers with baseball bats. They pulled the three of us inside and a blonde girl held a gun to Rick's head.

"I should shoot you right where you stand! You've killed us all!" She screamed.

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