Darker Skies *The Walking Dead*

Chapter 1

The wind was beating and howling against the deep gray, boarded up home. A girl sat on the beat-up couch was twirling her red, curly hair, staring at the wall absentmindedly. She didn't know what to do with herself. It's only been a month since her mom walked out the back door of the last house. A month of living alone and terrified.

Skylar Perold's very tired. Of course, she wasn't getting any sleep, how could she with the constant hissing and growling going on right outside of the door? But she always heard it even in her sleep. She was also tired of living off whatever she could find in the woods behind the house she was staying in. Luckily, her dad took her on long hunting trips. At the age of 12, she wasn't too bad of a trapper. Her dad had just started giving her gun lesson's for her 11th birthday, a few months before the world fell apart. At least he left her with some survival skills. Her mother left her with one can of soup and a backpack full of pads and tampons. At least she won't bleed out now.

And what came with hunting was she could only set traps. She couldn't shoot her rifle or it would attract the monstrous creatures- zombies, her mom called them. Setting up traps took some time, she had to keep her focus on the knots she was making, but she also had to focus on making sure something didn't sneak up behind her. She'd had plenty of close calls when her mom left. She hated always having to be alert. The feeling followed her everywhere; she most definitely didn't need to be wide awake, terrified there was a zombie waiting in the bathroom when she knew there wasn't one because she checked twice before bed.

Skylar heaved a deep, almost shaky sigh. She hadn't let herself cry through the last month. She kept herself busy, walking to the woods and killing anything she sees. If she wasn't setting traps, she was walking around, not too far, in the woods, trying to climb trees and picking good sticks she could maybe widdle into something. She didn't know how to do it but did know she needed to keep her mind busy.

It happened, now get over it. Skylar's father's voice broke into her thoughts. He would say that whenever she messed up and even though she felt like crying and screaming, she would do something so her dad wouldn't see her cry. He wasn't a fan of tears, and crying hurt her head anyway. The zombie apocalypse is happening, time to get over it. She needs to suck up her tears and realize this is a part of life now.

By the growling of her stomach, it's time to go she caught anything. Skylar threw her hunting rifle around her shoulder with the rope-made strap and put her knife in the holster on her belt. Skylar looked around the living room of the dusty house and said a small prayer, hoping the wooden boards will hold up while she's gone.

Skylar walked to the back door and almost lost hold of the door as it swung open from the wind. Outside was cloudy and Skylar thought she could smell some rain. It wasn't dark enough to be a storm and just a little rain won't kill her search for berries. It might even feel good, Skylar can't remember the last time it rained this summer. The trees that lined the backyard were blowing leaves around and made the winds howl louder with the rumble of branches. Skylar's thickly tangled hair whipped her pale face as she made her way to the trees. She had made a trail with the number of times she's walked into the woods. She had three traps that were close and she could check before it rained. She found the first trap to be empty but untouched so she headed to the next one. There weren't any zombies on the trail and she couldn't see any sign of recent activity but her senses were high and she looked at every movement out of the corner of her eye.

The walk hadn't been long when a twig snapped on her right and her gun was quickly spun into her hands, aimed at two adult men. Both had beards growing and long hair, except the shorter of the two, looked like a mangy dog. He had a crossbow aimed right at her and the tidier looking one with a police uniform on had his hand on his holstered pistol and a hand held out to her. He looked surprised to see Skylar in the woods as if he wasn't expecting to find another human. Skylar definitely wasn't expecting to see another human. She's never seen anyone except her parents since the world was overtaken. She didn't really know how to react but knew that if the man with the crossbow wasn't lowering his weapon anytime soon, she wouldn't either.

The man with the crossbow looked at his friend, wanting to know what to do. The other stared at the girl, trying to figure out what to do. His blank stare went up and down Skylar, figuring out whatever he could from just how she looked. She did the same to him. She was taught stranger danger at school and a zombie apocalypse wasn't going to make her think strangers are suddenly okay. But Skylar's not very good at reading people, so it's not like she could get anything from him.

"What's your name?" He finally asked.

"Skylar. Skylar Perold." She said after taking some time to mentally fight herself. They could just kidnap her and hurt her and who knows what else. But something in the man's voice made her heart jump; she knew him. But she can't remember his name or how she knows him.

The man squinted at her and tilted his head. He looked at the man with the crossbow and nodded, the man lowered his weapon so Skylar did as well.

"How many Walkers have you killed?" The man asked her.

"I don't know, more than ten." It took a moment for her to understand he meant zombies, but she answered honestly.

"How many people have you killed?"

"None."

"Why?"

"Haven't needed to." Skylar's shoulders had risen while she spoke. She thought they were strange questions for a young girl in the middle of the woods, but she answered and figured she could go back to her house and hide from the men. Maybe if she got out of their way, they'd stay out of hers.

"My name's Rick, this is Daryl," He introduced himself and pointed at his friend. He took his hand off the pistol. "We have a group, it's at a prison. There are kids, food, showers, and clothes." The man with the crossbow looked at his friend a little warily, but it's not like he could leave a defenseless kid.

"Do you have a camp set up? Do you need to grab anything?" Should she bring the backpack of pads and tampons? He said he had food, does she need to bring a can of soup? Did she even want to turn back and look at that house again?

"No."