~Rebel's POV~

The rest of the ride, I was rigid and stiff, only moving to grip tighter to Daryl. The whole time we were on the damned thing, the scene kept replaying through my mind. My heart was on the brink of bursting and subconsciously I reached up to toy with the ring that hung on the silver chain.

We rounded a sharp turn and I sucked in a breath, wrapping my arm back around Daryl's torso, squeezing tighter than necessary. By this time, we were ahead of everyone. Daryl had gotten sick of tailgating the Jeep so he pulled ahead, telling me that we were scouting.

I knew we weren't that far ahead as I could still hear the rumble of the RV's engine. We rounded a narrow corner and screeched to a halt. My heart froze in my chest, fearing the worst.

What seemed like hundred of cars were lined up on the double-highway. Most of the doors had been left open and there was the occasional smatter of blood on the windows or ground. There were no walkers we could see, but I was still on my guard. Daryl cut the bike off and I jumped off, more than willing to get off the death trap.

Daryl chuckled, "Not a bike fan?" he asked me.

"Not anymore." I said quietly, trying to keep my answer vague. Sharing my past was the last thing I wanted to do with him right now.

Daryl looked at me funny, "Why no-".

He was abruptly cut off by the engines of the line of vehicles pulling up behind us. Rick bounced off the RV and came over towards us. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

"We have a problem." He stated.

"Damn right!" Daryl yelled gesturing the the hoard of motor vehicles. Rick cleared his throat, clearly being uncomfortable with an angered Daryl.

"Think 'ya could ride ahead and see if it leads anywhere?" Rick asked him calmly.

"Yeah. Whatever." he mumbled, boarding his bike. "Are ye' comin' or what?" he snapped at me.

I shook my head and walked back towards the RV. I've had enough of that motorcycle for a lifetime. I really needed solid land at the moment.

"I think I'm going to look around for supplies." I told him, he didn't hesitate to start weaving through the dozens of cars.

As promised, I started searching cars for useful supplies. Carl, Lori, Carol, Shane, T-Dog and Glen had joined me shortly after the rumbling of Daryl's bike could no longer be heard. I had gone through at least twenty cars and I was getting tired of the useless junk I was finding.

I moved on to an army-style jeep. The windsheild was still intact and the key was still in the ignition. I took a liking it to it immediatley. I had always loved jeeps, there was something about them that just screamed 'Adventure!' and I had never denied one.

Searching the passanger's compartment and coming up empty, I started to move to the next vehicle when I heard moans. Not just a few, but a mass of them. I knew it must've been one of the infamous walker hoards. I didn't think tiwce about climbing into the jeep and crawling into the backseat. A hand covered my mouth and I fought the resistence to scream.

"I'm not a walker. Relax and be quiet. It's another herd." The voice speaking to me was rough and masculine. It gave off a sense of protection and I relaxed back into the warm body that was behind me.

I could feel the pulse of a heartbeat coming off a well-defined chest. The hand on my mouth was removed and I closed my eyes, trying not to see the sight that was outside. The strangled moans were becoming louder and I could feel the presence of the dead creeping upon us.

My heart was racing and I'm sure my forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. I concentrated on the hot, steady breath that was fanning over the back of my neck. I could feel my hair being moved from the back of my neck and a hand settling on my waist, tracing the visible hip bone that was peeping out from under my shirt.

I rolled my eyes even though the mystery man couldn't see me doing so. There was a herd of walkers and this random guy was touching me in intimate places. It seemed like forever while he was still fondling my hip bone.

It seemed he had taken a liking to the tattoo that was positioned above the very place he was tracing. He had ran his fingers over the words several times, as if his fingers were trying to memorize the foreign statement that was imprinted on to my skin.

Gradually, the moans started to dwindle and soon there was nothing left but silence. I peeled myself from the metal floor of the jeep and sat in the passenger seat, waiting for the mystery man to come out of hiding.

I shuddered as I saw the bloody body that was sitting in the drivers seat. I knew now why I couldn't take this beautiful Jeep. The only thing I would do was think about the battered organism sitting inches away from me.

A rouge walker started weaving it's way through the cars and my breath hitched. It was too close to go to the backseat and I couldn't shut the door because there wasn't any. I racked my brains for ideas and the panic settled into the pit of my stomach.

Walkers wouldn't eat something already dead. They wanted live prey, they wanted a fight. They wanted screaming and crying from their victim. That much was obvious. This much also lead me to my most absurd idea yet.

I reached over and smeared my hand in the pool of blood forming on the dead body beside me. The liquid was cold on my fingers, signaling that there was not a living cell left in the body. I wiped the fluid across my neck and face slowly, trying not to attract the attention of the rouge walker.

I rolled my head back and closed my eyes, trying to act as dead as possible. I had never had the experience of doing so, but I had to look convincing as the walker limped past me, groaning in hunger.

Daryl slid out from under a beat up BMW and looked at me, his eyes widening at the sight of blood on my upper half. His gaze moved on to something past me and his eyes bulged slightly. He hid behind the car and looked at me through the window.

The walker limped past me again. Stopping a few feet from where I was currently seated. He turned around and cocked his head at me. My heart raced faster and I peered through my eyelashes, trying to remain still. My breath hitched in my throat and I felt tears building up behind my closed eyelids.

The walker seemed to be a girl. She couldn't be older than 10 and she had pink, frilly pajamas on. She groaned and started walking towards me, reaching her arms out when she was closer. I felt her cold hands on my arms and felt it being raised.

I remained unmoving and silent. The small walker sniffed at my arm and dropped it in disappointment before walking back towards the herd. After she was out of sight, I saw Daryl come out from behind the car.

I let out a long breath and jumped out of the jeep, swiping at my face. I felt Daryl's arms wrap around me and I leaned into his shoulder, enjoying the comforting gesture. I heard a banging in the jeep and a stifled moan.

Daryl pushed me behind him and I hit a car that was a maroon color with a shattered driver's window. Daryl lifted his crossbow and eyed the jeep suspiciously. His finger hovered over the trigger, ready to act at any given moment.

The mystery man swung over the seat gracefully and ran a hand through his dark hair. I had to say he looked absolutley mouth-watering. He had rayless hair and warm brown eyes, I couldn't help but notice that Daryl's eyes were so much brighter, even if his brightness was coming from darker places.

He was wearing a ratty orange t-shirt and tattered jeans. He looked to be around my age or even a few years older. He had dirt smeared across his face and well-defined arms. If I was the typical girl, I would be drooling.

The mystery man held up his hands, "Woah. Dude, I'm not a walker." Daryl made no move, still relentless to put down his crossbow. I stepped forward and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Daryl, let it go. We can take him to Rick." I said these words so the mystery man wouldn't be able to hear me. Daryl huffed and lowered his weapon, earning me a smile from mystery man.

"I'm Peter Daniels, it's nice to meet you." He said while extending a hands toward the both of us. I ignored his hand and jerked my head towards the RV.

"Follow us." I told him.

"British, eh? I like it." He smirked at me. I rolled my eyes and I saw Daryl glaring at him. I knew that if we ever had to kill him, Daryl would be more than happy to do it. I guided Peter back to the RV with Daryl walking behind him to keep him in check.

We trudged up to the RV and everyone's eyes were on us. Most of them relieved, and some of them curious about the mysterious newcomer. Rick stepped forward and held out a hand in greeting.

"Peter?" It was Shane who spoke, recognition was thick in his voice.

"Uncle Shane?"

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Bleh. Sorry it wasn't up sooner and that it's so short. So for those of you asking, this is based off the Walking Dead, but I'm kind of putting my own spin on it so if you have any questions, just PM me or comment(:

Picture to the side is Peter.

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