Inside These Prison Walls(TWD fanfic)

Chapter One:

  Cold. That's all I feel as I walk. Is just cold. The winter burn has left, now just a cold chill hangs over the air. For the first time in days, no snarling or growling of walkers follow me. For the first time in days, there is absolute silence. Silence that used to be coveted, now I wish wasn't there. It's too quiet. Eerie quiet.

My name is Taylor Ann Kitsch. It's been eighteen months since everything went shit. Walkers started appearing, killing and infecting people. With in a week, I lost my mother, and my younger brother, Ryan. For the first month after my mom died, my sister, Christina, and I hid in our neighbours bunker. It was stocked with food and weapons. We stayed there until things in the area got too bad and we were forced out. We've been on the road for over a year now, going from house to house. Camp to camp. Then, three months ago, my sister went missing and my best friend, Will, died. I've been alone since. Camps started getting sparse, leaving me to resort to trees. The woods could be one of the most dangerous places, but to a hunter, it can be the safest. And that's me. The hunter.

The silence is broken my an almost whirring sound. I step out of my comfort of the trees, to the sideo of the road. To be honest, I have no idea where I am going, walking is just the best thing. Keep moving before the walkers catch up. The whirring get's even louder, then there comes the roaring of a motorcycle. I whirl around and see a motorcycle coming down the hill. I stop and watch as he drives right past me.

Every fiber in my being screams to call out to him, but the secluded monster in me tells me it's best to stay hidden. People nowadays hurt other people and it is best to stay alone. Right? Right. The motorcycle keeps driving several yards up the road in front of me. I stand off to the side, staring at it, waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. Then, whoever the driver is, turns around and stands up, staring straight at me. I make no movement to go forward, but don't run away either. Neither of us say a word, just stare at each other.

"Follow the road." He calls out.

That's all the strange man says. His gruff voice startles me in the silence of the morning. It seems so strange to hear a human voice. So strange that I lose mine. I make no attempt to talk back, I just stand there staring like an idiot.

"Just follow the road."

The driver gets back on his bike and starts it up again, driving off. The encounter is so brief that it almost doesn't seem real. But it is. It has to be. I pinch myself on the arm and feel that it is.

  I start to run forward, but the motorcycle surges forward again, leaving me alone. Again.

"Wait!" I call out. But my voice that hasn't spoken in weeks sounds like a croak. "No. Please don't go." I croak. Tears well up in my eyes as i began to lose hope all over again. What kind of person would get someones hopes up, just crush them again? Thats when I see the sign.

Federal Prison.

The words are faded away and the sign is hanging from the pole, but I can still read it. Maybe thats where he wanted me to go! Even if its not, I still can find shelter there depeneding on how overrun it is. Only two miles. I can make this. In two miles, I will finally have safety. A place to sleep, a place to live. Even if I am all by myself.

  I adjust my pack that is on my back and grab my sword hilt again. It is almost humorous. This idea has come into my head. As long as I have my grip on my sword, I'll have a grip on this world. On the way things have become.

 A walkers snarl interrupt my thoughts. I look to the woods on my right and see it. Lying in the ditch, legs missing, intestines spilling out. It's hard to believe that these creatures, these things, used to be people. People with lives and families. Now they're just killing machines that eat and bit and ruin.