Chapter One

Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect., are the property of their respective owners.  The original character and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary:  When the world ended the only thing Birdie Grimes wanted to do was get home to her family.  When she finds her sister-in-law and best friend in a survival group on the outskirts of Atlanta, will she finally get the chance to tell him how she really feels?  Will love blossom?  *No Evil Shane*

Warning:  This fan-fiction is rated Mature of Language, Gore and Adult Situations.  Readers under the age of 18 are strongly discouraged from reading.

Pairing:  Shane Walsh x Birdie Grimes

Lil’ Bird: In the Beginning

Chapter One

 

If someone had asked me a few months ago if I thought I’d be alive to witness the world’s apocalypse I would have probably laughed and then asked them if I could have some of what they’d been smoking.  Now, on the other hand… not so much. 

Never in a million years did I think I’d be alive to see the apocalypse and I certainly never thought I’d live to see it and not be with my family when it happened, but here I was, stranded on the side of the highway in a dead jeep in what was once bumper to bumper traffic. 

Being stranded in Georgia to being with wasn’t how I predicted to be spending this summer.  This trip up from Tampa hadn’t been an expected one.  I wish I could say this was supposed to be a nice road trip I’d given myself to celebrate some big promotion or just to visit friends and family—but, no—instead, I was traveling to my home town to possibly bury one of the most important men in my life; my twin brother.

He’d been shot in the line of duty by some Meth’d out idiot on a high-speed chase.  I had been feeling off all that day—so while I wasn’t surprised to receive the phone call from Lori—I still nearly collapsed when she told me that he’d been shot, I’m sure if my friend Becky hadn’t have been there to catch me when she was, I would have. 

Ricky—my twin—had always been my whole world.  He was my hero when we were children, my confidant in (almost) everything as teenagers, and my partner in crime in college.  So—when I heard that he was in a coma that he might never wake up from—I nearly suffered from heart failure.

My best-friend and my brother’s partner Shane Walsh called several hours later—apparently shortly after he had left the hospital.  He said he was only calling to check on me but it became obvious after speaking with him that he needed to be comforted just as badly as I did.  After we cried for about an hour, I told him that I wasn’t fine and I thought it would be hard for me to handle this by myself.  Shane suggested that I come home to see Lori and Carl, that they might need me—though, I was already way ahead of him in that respect—by the time the phone call ended, I already had my bags packed into the my rusty old CJ7 and was hauling ass up interstate I-75 out of central Florida. 

“Well shit,” I groused to my eight year old bloodhound.  “We just can’t catch a break, can we, Tru?” 

Trusty turned in his seat and eyed me like I had just won the observation of the year award.

My statement was true enough though, ever since the outbreak hit in Henry County, it had been one hardship after another.  Trusty and I had been on this stretch of highway for over a month, trying to wade through infested gobs of crashed cars and panicking people. 

The only bit of luck Trusty and I seemed to have had at all is that we had already made it past McDonough and that the worst of the traffic jams were all headed south-bound.  That right there should have told me not to venture any further into the city…but I was stubborn, and it was the route I had to travel to get to King County and I wasn’t about to leave without knowing if my nephew had survived.

“Damn dog,” I mumbled as I readied my weapons and my pack for the 2-mile walk to the next exit.  Hopefully the Flying-J wouldn’t be too overrun and I could find shelter for the night. 

The heat was oppressive today and had the world been what it once was, I would have called AAA and let them sweat to death. 

“Come on, Tru, keep watch.”  My pampered pet groaned and yawned loudly before he lazily jumped down from the high-seats of my jeep with a huff.

“Glad to know I can count on you,” I told him with a scowl.  Damn dog.  I bet he’d do it wagging his tail if Papa Hair-gel asked him too.  “Traitor!”

The walk wasn’t the longest one I’d ever taken but in the heat of the Georgia summer it sure felt like it.  Thankfully for Trusty and me, we only spotted a few of those things here and there—about ten in all, but I only had to put down three of them on the way.  It was strange how some of them seemed to be able to spot you from miles away while others could be standing 50 feet from you and not see you if you stayed quiet. 

Staying quiet was probably the first valuable lessons I’d learned about these—whatever they were.  They kind of reminded me of some of the big cats I’d worked with in the past—responding to light and noise (and of course, the smell of blood).  I’d seen too many people ripped apart because they had been so frightened that they couldn’t stop themselves from screaming.  So, Trusty and I… we stayed quiet.

There were quite a few more of the undead wandering around the truck stop that had to be taken out, but I was relieved that it was nothing like some of the hordes that I’d seen.  The store itself was rank indeed, full of gore and littered with the bodies of those infected and some that had…taken matters into their own hands.

There was absolutely no way I would be sleeping in there, but I did find plenty of bottle water, some feminine products and a 50 pound bag of dry kibble for Trusty.  The Country Kitchen was a treasure trove of canned and dry goods, things that would keep for as long as I remained on the road. 

For the Hell of it, I also grabbed a few cases of assorted beer and a few cartons of cigarettes.  Now I didn’t smoke or drink often but you never know when something like that could be bartered away for something else. 

It was a little later when I had gone searching through the parking lot for a vehicle I could commandeer that I ended up finding my saving grace, my light at the end of the tunnel, my Eden.  Hell, I pretty sure the Angels were even singing to me.  So that’s what I named her; Angel.

She—Angel—was an abandoned fuel tanker sitting near the edge of the pumps.  It was obviously waiting to offload when the epidemic hit.  Blessedly, I was free of the dead and she even had the keys still resting in the ignition.  To my extreme disbelief, it even had a sleeper trailer.  I almost wanted to laugh I was so happy.  This had to be some kind of a trap, but as I approached and started to load my gear… nothing happened.

With a relieved smile on my face, I held the driver door open wide, “Come on, Tru, up ya go.”

He did so with a happy bark and immediately settled himself in the bed in the sleeping quarters in the back of Angel.  I checked the locks on the doors and followed him moments later, happy that I’d have a relative safe place to sleep for the night.  After all, it had been awhile since that happened. 

Needless to say, we were both asleep in minutes.

~ Lil’ Bird: In the Beginning ~

 

Morning seemed to come all too quickly, but in the light of my new ride, I couldn’t really complain.  I guess it was lucky that I could drive damn near anything with wheels—and some things without.

Not wanting to push my luck remaining in such open space any longer than was absolutely necessary, I fed Tru some dry kibble and forewent feeding myself until I found a more secure location.  I could already feel hunger clawing at my insides but, a few packs of crackers would have to do the trick for now. 

After Tru was fed, I took him on a quick walk to so he could relieve himself and so I could also give myself a little relief as well.  Then I took a quick check of the fluids, hook-up’s and other maintenance on the tanker before firing her up.  She started right up on the first turn of the key.

As I waited for Angel to warm up after the chilly night, I went over the drivers logs and found out that I was sitting on about 6,000 gallons of diesel fuel.  That would keep me going a good long while. 

~ Lil’ Bird: In the Beginning ~

 

It was just after entering the outskirts of Atlanta when I saw a short young man or woman in the distance—furiously beating their hands on the hook of a smoking Chevy Berretta.  As I came closer I could tell that it was a man—young and thin—possibly Asian decent and as wary as I have always been picking up hitch-hikers, I couldn’t just leave him out here alone.

He looked surprised and scared as I stopped beside him—not even bothering to pull off the shoulder.  Trusty was barking and wagging his tail, so I took that to mean that he didn’t see anything wrong with this stranger.

“Need some help?”  I asked, elbowing Tru out of the way so I could hang myself out the passenger side window. 

The kid—Asian, like I had thought—looked nervous as he lifted the pizza-themed ball-cap and scratched through his inky black locks.  “Y-yeah, my…my car…”

Huh?  Either this kid was afraid I was gonna kill him or he seriously had a problem talking to women.

I laughed lightly, “Yeah, I can see that.  You need a ride somewhere?”

He breathed deeply and smiled back at me.  “Yeah, my group we, uh, have a camp not far from here.  I was out, scavenging…headed to Atlanta…but my car…”

“Yeah, I can see that, too.”  I told him with a smile.  “Well, hop on in and I can take you there.  You’ll just have to fight Trusty here for shot-gun.”

“The back’s totally fine with me.”  He blurted, dragging a hand across his tired face.  “I just…uh, I need to get the, uh, stuff I found.”

I couldn’t help but laugh loudly at his red face this time—he was just so damn skittish…like a cat.  “Well, don’t take your time; you never know when or where those things will spring up.”

He did so—a Hell of a lot faster than I thought he could.  Suddenly, I could see why this man/boy would be put to the task of scavenging for the group.  He was fast, light on his feet and smart, but what I couldn’t understand was why in the Sam Hill his group would only send one man?  Perhaps it’s just a small group.

“Walkers.”  The kid said as he hefted himself up the side of my Angel.

“What?”  I asked, looking around him in confusion.  I had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Walkers, that’s what my group call those dead things.”  He explained as he eyes Trusty apprehensively.  Trusty—being excited about company—made a show of himself by licking the poor kid like he was a tasty T-bone steak.

“Hum,” I said in thought, “I like it…makes sense, anyway.  So Mr.—

“Glenn,” the kid replied as he laughed and wiped at the slobber now coating his entire face.  “Just Glenn.” 

“Well, Just Glenn, you can call me Birdie.”  I said, extending my hand. 

His smile widened as he took my proffered hand and gave it a firm shake.  “It’s nice to meet you Birdie.” 

“Likewise,” I replied as I threw the truck into first gear.  “Now where we headin’?”