Chapter Text
Awareness.
Then pandemonium.
~~~
Years ago, when Alexandrea had her wisdom teeth removed, she didn't appreciate the effects of anesthesia.
Not at all.
She remembered going under, doubting the swiftness of the drug. But then, with sudden awareness, she found herself in a chair, sitting upright in a foreign room with gauze packed in her mouth, an indication the extraction was finished.
Alexandrea did not wake up. She just suddenly was. It was as if no time had passed at all, like the path between point A to point B was nonexistent. She was thrusted from one moment of consciousness to another, a disorienting transition later rendering a feeling of helplessness.
There was only one word she felt adequately encapsulated the experience.
Unnatural.
And never again did she want to experience that loss of functionality and control over her own body. Her own mind.
But it did.
Only this time was much, much worse.
~~~
Mindlessly looping one shoelace through the other, Alexandrea stood, instinctively reaching an arm out for her bag on the entryway table. However, just as her fingers hovered inches away, she was suddenly in the midst of bustling bodies and virulent voices.
Sirens wailed, nearly drowning out an agitated crowd sweeping its way across the intersection. Squinting from the sudden brightness, her next breath in filled her lungs with humid air. Raising her hands to her face, as if begging for some kind of lifeline, she failed to swipe away the mirage.
God, Alexandrea thought while wildly looking around, are those skyscrapers?
She blanched at the blinding windows above, twinkling with sunlight.
Where the hell—?
Disoriented, she blinked rapidly. However, the tall buildings, the flashing red and blue lights—and now flames!—remained. Frantic shouting and movement jostled her from her stupor. The stark, unnatural transition to an unknown place sparked a visceral reaction to move.
Adrenaline soaring, Alexandrea’s feet pounded on asphalt. Following the hysterical crowd, she hoped it led to safety. But it soon became clear the escapees, while moving with urgency, ran in no specific direction, seeming to be banking on a random direction away from the danger—the danger Alexandrea had yet to identify. There was no other choice but to surrender to the riptide of panic. Fighting against the mob would be like swimming against the current. So, she did her best to stick with one stream of the stampede, managing to make it further down some unknown street.
It was almost like a dream. Or rather, her surroundings were so incomprehensible it could only be described as dreamlike. But her senses were much too vivid for this to be a dream. Her ears roaring in disbelief also told her otherwise as shoulders bumped harshly against her own. Mind uncomprehending, the only thing she was consciously aware of was of being abruptly snatched from home.
Rising hysteria, the sudden mental image of being knocked down and trampled to death allowed her little time to fret over her impossible circumstances. It spurred an eagerness to fight to stay upright, to not waste time dwelling on the mechanics of her spontaneous transportation.
A burly man, charging past her, rammed himself hard into her shoulder. It wrenched back from the blow, pain flaring and making her eyes watered. And before Alexandrea could recover, a forceful hand then pressed flat against her back, shoving her hard from behind.
Her world tilted. Steps stuttering, she managed to regain her balance after lurching forward, arms prepared to catch herself. And although she avoided falling, she lost her positioning in the crowd as some ash-covered woman lunged for the newly created opening as a result of the assault. Incoherent screaming sounding from right behind bombarded her eardrums. Whoever it was, they were furious at Alexandrea for impeding their progression—
As though I had any control of that! Alexandrea thought angrily (which was the alternative to breaking down in tears).
The disconcerting screaming from the crowd (which her mind drowned out in order to focus on remaining un-trampled) altered. Instead of terror, it warped into pained bursts. Then, raw and ugly, it morphed into drawn out, earsplitting agony. Stomach churning even further, Alexandrea desperately searched for some clue—any clue!—to lead her far, far away from whatever the hell that was.
“Oh my god!” a person cried out.
Tires squealed from a vehicle zipping by. It quickly lost control, flipping over before crashing to a halt through a storefront across the street. Glass exploded, and the crunching of metal was followed by one tight, short shriek. Then nothing.
Bile flooding her throat, Alexandrea consciously acknowledged her rising terror for the first time, something she had refused to acknowledge due to her denial of her new surroundings. With her only goal being to get away, Alexandrea attempted to redirect her fear by channeling it into her muscles, rather than freezing in fright. Urging it into her legs, she ran harder and faster, trying to feel the movement of her muscles in an attempt to drown out the noise of the crowd. Wanting to sob, she then tried focusing inward on her breath while chanting, Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving!
It's like the start of a race! she tried consoling herself. I know how to race.
Every person in the throng of the crowd shared the goal to get out fast and get into position, set themselves up well for success and get across the finish line in a good time—or rather, to safety. Alexandrea held her arms bent and stiff, slightly away from her center, a tactic to take up more space and maintain some ground. Straightening her posture, she ran forward with the crowd. It was so congested by this point that she was barely jogging, too many bodies now to get the hell out of there. However, she didn't bother to elbow her way for a spot ahead, instead conserving her energy and waiting for an opportune moment. If there even was one to wait for...
Then—there!
Spotting a small space to slip through between the building up ahead and another crashed vehicle, she hunched her shoulders in, and, having to suck in her stomach and breathe out air to shrink her ribcage, she shimmied sideways through the small opening. The rough texture of the brick wall dug into her back, clinging to her shirt.
But then, she was through! Putting on a burst of speed, she slipped back into the crowd, rows and rows ahead of where she had been.
Rows and rows away from whatever everyone is running from...
Now that she was more on the outside of the crowd, Alexandrea had more space to maneuver, weaving around people with ease. Thankfully, she had excellent endurance, cultivated from years of running (she was never as glad as she was now to have picked running as a sport). She put distance on each person she passed, feeling safer with every additional person now behind her as the crowd slowly cleared.
But there was a nagging thought. It wondered whether, despite the risk of being trampled and limited navigating, it was actually safer in the midst of the crowd...shielded by people against the unseen threat.
Shaking off her unease, Alexandrea reached the next block much quicker.
Now, all she needed was to make it to the next one.
And then the next.
One more, just one more! her internal voice pleaded, hoping that 'one more' would eventually mean safety.
Reaching the next block felt like a lifetime, but it was only maybe two minutes of weaving. After several more blocks, the crowd finally started dispersing with more gaps forming ahead. Alexandrea surged forward, slipping into each new window that opened up. Each a prize, each a lifeline she desperately lunged for.
Relieved at being able to pick up the pace into a quick run, she finally could breathe again, even if it was labored. She very nearly relaxed, feeling much more in control of her movements.
But that was when she first saw...
It.
At first, it didn't register exactly what she was seeing: the uncoordinated shuffling, loud moaning, and gnashing teeth—and blood, copious amounts of blood saturating faces and clothes, spilling onto pavement. And there was this man with blood spewing out of a his throat.
Or...what seemed to be a man.
The longer she looked, the more...wrong the sight of him was. Looking at him signaled something in her hindbrain there was something very, very wrong with him.
Uncanny valley wrong, Alexandrea's mind supplied unhelpfully.
Transfixed, her eyes were hypnotized by the bloodstained teeth exposed through what used to be a cheek. Nausea rippled while spotting the small dangling facial muscles swinging down and bumping against his chin.
Alexandrea gaped, horrified.
What the actual fu—!
Diverting her attention up and away from the bloody gore of his mouth, she then looked into his eyes. And it caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end.
They were…they were wrong. Discolored and unfeeling, yet attentive and unwavering. Following his line of sight, there was a collapsed, sobbing woman. Her leg was bent at a funny angle, obviously broken. It dragged behind her as she crawled through the street. And then the man closed in on her, falling on his knees as he wrenched her arm up to his jaw before clamping down.
Teeth pierced flesh.
Sobbing became deafening cries. The pitch of the sound unwillingly solidified itself forever to Alexandrea's memory.
The loud shrill attracted another shambling inhuman-like…thing. This one had long hair, blood staining its scalp. It lumbered closer to the fallen woman. The woman was on one knee now, squirming as the man ripped flesh from her bicep. There was red. Red, red, red. And even the sound of her cries somehow sounded red. Her unmarred arm flailed high in the air, as if she were drowning and signaling for help, all the while struggling to breach the water's surface to breathe. But it instead attracted something else. The other thing reached her, its long hair gracing her skin before the next set of teeth latched on.
The woman's resistance was futile.
The crowd separated. Alexandrea could no longer see the woman. But her shrieks echoed, following them as the crowd continued away from the grotesque horrors found on that intersection. Alexandrea dreaded what they would find on the next. Half the crowd continued forward as the other half went right. The people from the direction they came from, however, were rapidly being cut off as more of those things swarmed in.
“Argh! No, no—no!"
Alexandrea’s head snapped toward the scream sounding close to her. Looking left and back, she saw a glimpse of short dark hair underneath a baseball cap. As someone rushed by, she saw the man struggling to fend off an attack, stuck in the grip of one of those monsters. Using his one free hand, he pressed it against the monster's chest in an effort to keep its leering teeth away.
There was no helping the woman earlier. She had been too surprised. Too far away.
But now...
Alexandrea froze, torn between self-preservation and—
“No, no, no! Please—!”
Empty-handed and lacking any form of self-defense training, Alexandrea nearly ditched the man entirely. Because, what could she even do? She didn't want to die!
But...he was right there. Alone. No one helping. Just like no one helped that poor woman.
And if another one of those things came...he'd share her fate.
Heartstrings tugging, Alexandrea suddenly had the stupidest thought. A memory flashed of an old, silly YouTube video from years back—a random karate-type fitness video she tried for cardio once, and never again revisited.
But, there was one move that had stuck with her...that she always thought she just might be able to pull off, if she really, really needed to.
Backtracking several paces and squirming her way around people, Alexandrea rounded the man’s side. Pulling her knee up high, she used all the force from her hip and extended her knee into kick, foot landing straight into the grotesque-being’s sternum. On making contact, she felt something crack underneath her shoe. Her hand shot out quickly to grab the man, both stabilizing herself and preventing him going down with that thing. The force and the speed of the kick were enough to free the man from the thing’s grip as it plummeted to the ground, not even attempting to brace itself for the impact.
“Ah geez. Ah geez. Thank you, thank you. Oh god. Thank you so much,” the man gasped, hyperventilating.
For the second time, Alexandrea froze.
Is that—?
No!
Alexandrea blanched.
Was that—the actor who played Glenn, from The Walking D—?
No. It just couldn't be—
Wait.
A shaky breath escaped her. She blinked, staring at him hard, a sickening realization overcoming her.
There was simply no way that she was in The Walking Dead. No, no, no! Nope. Absolutely the hell not. It was completely crazy! It couldn't happen!
This can’t be happening, this can't be happening, there is no way this is happening to me right now! Alexandrea nearly screamed aloud from the dawning horror. It was just not possible. Nope. No way. It was completely impossible! Like—
This doesn't make any sense! Alexandrea internally roared, horrified and outraged.
Albeit, suddenly appearing somewhere else did not make any sense either. But this?—This definitely doesn’t make sense! She couldn't be in a...a...a—she refused to think the words! But goodness, the person in front of her looked like Glenn. Just like him! And he looked so young too. Young and scared. And—
He looks just like Glenn, Alexandrea thought again, stunned.
Because, what if this man, with his wide terrified eyes fixed on Alexandrea, really was Glenn? And what if Alexandrea being here—if here was where she feared it was—right now, got him killed?
What if I kill Glenn? she thought frantically.
That last thought persuaded her to action.
Filled with reignited purpose, Alexandrea grabbed his hand, tugging him to her.
“Come on! We’re getting out of here!”
Despite them both being a hand down, they moved fast, faster than Alexandrea managed up to this point. Having an ally made it tougher for others to push them around too much. And thank goodness Glenn was as quick as he had appeared on the show. And being a former collegiate runner, she maintained pace with him easily. Once they ran a little farther, he took over and was instead the one tugging her hand, guiding them through the city streets. Trusting he knew the way, she followed along blindly, finally having faith that the direction she headed was a better bet. There was comfort in holding his hand, in having someone with her in the midst of it all. To have someone else to think about beside herself, someone who would also have her back.
Alexandrea felt hopeful, surer that she would make it out alive. Maybe his plot armor, so to speak, would be enough to get her out of here too.
Unless Alexandrea slowed him down. But she was still doing alright, so far.
Although they were covering more ground, the city seemed endless. To her, it was a maze. To Glenn, it was the back of his hand. And all seemed to be going well until a bearded man nearly barreled her over. Knocking into her already aching shoulder, Alexandrea stumbled but Glenn quickly caught her, his torso absorbing part of the impact.
After her breathless thanks, they ducked behind a car, scanning ahead to plan their next move. From opportunist looters to freaked civilians to arsonists, the way out was unclear. A brick flew overhead, smashing into a window ten feet away. Alexandrea flinched, ducking and covering her head.
Holy shit!
It was a breeding ground of havoc.
“Ah geez! Everyone’s gone nuts!” Glenn screamed over all the noise, eyes taking in the marauders storming through the breach in the shop window.
“God, where do we go? I don’t even know where here is!” Alexandrea moaned, peering around the car’s hood while wondering, for the millionth time, How the hell is any of this even happening to me right now!
Glenn slid around her, prompting Alexandrea to stay down while he crouched closer to the vehicle’s front, head peeking only high enough to see over the hood.
After a few long seconds, he exclaimed and pointed, “There! The police barricade! I can just barely make it out around the corner. We just have to make it there.”
Alexandrea shook her head, suddenly wondering how Glenn wounded up at the quarry in the first place. As soon as she realized the possibility she was thrusted into a TV show—a TV show!—her underlying assumption was that this was the first day of the outbreak, at least publicly. But maybe it had been going on for longer? If this was Glenn, that means they were in Atlanta. And Atlanta gets bombed—
But when?
Looking around, Alexandrea noticed the sky darkening with unease.
Dread filled her chest.
“I don’t know,” Alexandrea raised her voice so he could hear through the chaos, proceeding to yank him back down. “It might not be a good idea. We came from a bad zone. They may suspect some of us are infected and start shooting anything that moves too close. We should leave. Leave the city. Cities are where outbreaks are the worst, anyway.”
Glenn gaped. “You—you want to leave? But...they’ve been broadcasting for people to head for the safe zone!”
Okay...so maybe it had been a couple of days since the outbreak...
Alexandrea gestured around them. “If they can’t keep this contained, the U.S. military may consider bombing the major cities to mitigate the infections! Does any of this look contained to you? It’s only a matter of time before Atlanta is overrun! We need to get as far away as we can!”
“Okay, okay! Fair point. Ah geez—This is crazy! Alright. I know which side streets we can take, so we can—Oh shit!”
Alexandrea whirled around just in time to see the convergence of two large groups of, well, Walkers (Ha! She was in a city overrun with Walkers, zombies! How was this even her life right now?). The two of them moved forward a few paces, startled. She could see the police barricade now. The people fleeing toward it were only about thirty feet or so from the dead. Glenn, grabbing her hand, pulled her in another direction. As soon as she lost sight of the people, the popping of rapid gunfire sounded.
Screaming.
Then multiple thuds.
“Oh god,” Glenn whimpered, sounding like he was about to hurl. “You were right.”
Alexandrea's grip on Glenn's hand must have been nearly bone breaking, but Glenn clamped back equally hard. The pain from the connection emanated security and confidence they would not be separated. Shaking from the shock of the gunfire (and the fact she was practically dumped in the middle of a war zone!), Alexandrea's legs flew as Glenn dipped her down into an alley. They made good time, carefully darting across streets and intersections then sprinting for their lives down the sparse alleyways.
But, of course, they couldn't have it easy for long.
Passing by a dumpster, a shadow lashed upwards as something latched onto her wrist.
“Shit!” Alexandrea gasped, coming face to face with what used to be a teenaged boy.
Now, it was a growling reanimated corpse.
It was the closest Alexandrea had been to one. It had been naive of her to think she could avoid them on her way out of the city.
Yanking her arm back, she tried freeing herself but her momentum only pulled it to its feet. They were now eye level, its jaw straining towards her neck, teeth gnashing, like a lobotomized vampire on steriods. The stench of decomposing flesh and blood penetrated her airways, violating her senses. She gagged, vision welling with tears both from the smell and the terror. Rapidly walking backwards now, she exited the alleyway. Her other arm was grabbed around the bicep. For a split second, she thought another zombie caught her, briefly forgetting Glenn still had hold of her hand. Instead, she was yanked back and forth in a tug-of-war between the Walker and Glenn, with Alexandrea as the rope sandwiched in the middle.
No control over her upper body, her feet stumbled to prevent from tripping. Close by, she faintly registered the loud shrieking of tires. Stumbling in one direction now, Glenn pulled her hard enough to just barely keep the Walker from sinking its teeth into her arm each time it hunched over.
Before any unintelligible words could come shrieking out of her mouth, something slammed down over its head. The body crumpled like a puppet’s strings being cut. Alexandrea had to take a second, turning away and closing her eyes. After a good thirty seconds of dry heaving, she managed to face her savior: a bald African American man holding a bloodied metal crowbar. He heaved for air, looking wild with the fresh blood spattered along his torso and jaw.
Was that…
T-Dog?
What were the odds of running into both Glenn and T-Dog?
Well, probably as good as the odds of being zapped inside The freaking Walking Dead!
Sweating and breathing hard, T-Dog managed a weak smile. “You folks need any help? I was just about to drive back into the city, pick up more seniors from my apartment complex. Bring ‘em to the safe zone.”
“Dude, the safe zone is gone!—or about to be. They just open fired into the crowd we were just in. Downtown is completely overrun,” Glenn quickly spouted off, waving his arm around before bending over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. "Oh god."
T-Dog’s face morphed into horror. “You serious? It's overrun?”
“Yeah,” Glenn breathed and gestured to Alexandrea. “We’re heading out of the city. She said they might start bombing to stop the spread.”
T-Dog’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he looked at Alexandrea. “Bomb? Bomb Atlanta? You can't be serious?”
His attention jolted her out of reliving that near-death experience (and the strangeness of talking with two strangers-that-were-not-really-strangers-but-fictional-characters-that-she-knew-but-not-really-knew).
Doing her best to put a pin in that near fatal encounter, she replied, “If they think the city is lost, I really think they’d be desperate enough to try anything. I’ve heard rumors of them bombing the West Coast.”
Alexandrea remembered watching Fear the Walking Dead but was unable to recall when they started bombing. The Clark family was in a quarantined area for over a week...maybe. She still did not know how long it had been since the outbreak. She assumed the West Coast was hit first (and now that she thought about it, it seemed like Shane and the Grimes family stayed in their neighborhood for a while, sticking close to the hospital with FEMA and the military until it fell). Plus, from the other spin-offs, she knew of only three major cities that avoided the bombings. But the timing of it all was beyond her knowledge.
But Alexandrea’s lack of knowledge did not matter. It was not like Glenn and T-Dog were going to corroborate her facts. And there was no reason not to trust her words.
“Damn, let's pray it's just a rumor. There's so much of that going around it's hard to know what to believe! If you guys need a ride out, I can give you one. But you really think we can’t make for the safe zone instead? Try and pick some people up along the way?”
Glenn shook his head. “It’s swarmed with geeks now. Not even your van could make it through. And even if it could and if the perimeter is even still standing, they won't let us in. They’re shooting anyone who gets close.”
T-Dog’s eyes watered before he nodded.
“Let’s get outta here then.”
Everyone rushed to his van, a sense of urgency reignited. T-Dog opened the back for Alexandrea as Glenn hopped into the passenger seat. T-Dog started the van up, shifting it into gear.
“Where we headed?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” Then, sarcastically, Glenn added, “We were too preoccupied with not getting eaten.”
Her eyes were drawn out the window to the downed corpse outside the alleyway, to what had nearly been her death. She stared at it as T-Dog drove off, not looking away from it until it was out of view.
They all sat in silence, reeling over...everything. As the adrenaline subsided, horror and shock filled Alexandrea’s every crevice. Her head became a swivel, eyes raking over the abandoned cars in paranoia, looking for the figure that just may be her Grim Reaper, as they were not necessarily in the clear yet.
T-Dog had the same idea, constantly checking his mirrors.
Fortunately, they spotted no stragglers.
Nor survivors.
Brain churning, Alexandrea hesitantly spoke up, “You know, I overheard someone talking about...a quarry? Some-This family was debating whether to try their luck with setting up camp outside the city. But I don’t know where it is.”
God, why did Alexandrea feel like she just started playing a never-ending game of Mafia? She always loved that card game, with each person assigned a role and having to figure out which person was eliminating all the other players. Alexandrea never had the ability to lie to her parents, always cracking a smile and giving herself away. Or maybe they just knew her too well. But when it came to Mafia, her competitive streak always won out. And while playing, she prided herself on her poker face.
But now? Now, lying felt like a necessity. That, if they found her out—that she was not from here—she would not be welcomed, casted out as an even worse kind of monster than all the ones roaming around from knowing all that she knew of them, this world, and their futures.
T-Dog slapped his steering wheel. “I know the exact place! That’s actually not a bad idea. And it's not too far off from here. The three of us can make the van work for shelter, hunker down and let things calm down. I have some food and water in the back, but it won’t last long. Oh, I’m Theodore Douglas, by the way! But everyone calls me T-Dog. The name just sorta stuck from when I played football during my college days.”
Glenn whirled around to look at Alexandrea, eyes wild.
“You saved my life!” he exclaimed. “Both of you! And I didn’t even ask for your names! I’m Glenn. Glenn Rhee.”
She didn't expect an eruption of laughter that escaped her, but at the look on Glenn's face it temporarily buried her horror.
“Introductions would’ve been pointless if we had gotten eaten right after. I’d say our priorities were set right.” Her giggling died down as she introduced herself, “I’m Alexandrea Voss. It’s nice to meet you Glenn, T-Dog.”
Glenn rubbed his face. “You think we can get to the quarry? Before dark?”
T-Dog nodded, “As long as the roads aren’t blocked, yeah. It’s close. Shouldn’t have a problem getting out. Everyone’s still trying to get in.”
"That'll change soon enough," she muttered, envisioning the iconic scene of Rick on his horse, heading into Atlanta, with a string of cars lined up leaving the city. She always wondered why that never screamed alarm bells for Rick to, you know, not proceed. Sometimes, she got a little too hung up on the details instead of simply enjoying the show...
Merging onto the interstate now, a whole line of cars on the opposite side parked bumper to bumper at a standstill. People mingled outside of them, having waited for who knew how long. Some lingered by their cars, others had backpacks and suitcases on them having abandoned their cars and trying to get ahead of the queue of cars waiting, which appeared to have sparked at least one argument from what Alexandrea could tell. Some onlookers turned curiously as they passed, pointing.
“Do we say anything to them?” Glenn asked worriedly.
T-Dog shook his head. “I don’t know, man. They might be able to regain the safe zone, let people back in. I still don’t know if it’s safe leaving the city. It’s not like any of us know where’s safest. Everyone’s just trying their best. It’s all a guessing game.”
“I’d still rather take our chances out here,” Alexandrea interjected, hoping to expel any doubt. “Less dead. Less uncertainty about the military turning on us. And I’d rather not risk being in a concentrated area. Who knows how well they check for bites. I just think a lot more things can and will go wrong.”
“Fine, fine,” T-Dog rolled down the window, yelling out that the city wasn’t safe. People were yelling back, angry and confused.
But they did not slow down to elaborate.
“God, they’re just sitting ducks out there,” Alexandrea murmured, elbow resting on the door as she scanned out the window. It was dusk now.
“Well, at least we’re almost there,” T-Dog reassured.
He exited off the interstate, following a winding road taking them deeper into the woods. Alexandrea never had been so happy in her life to see trees. Glenn seemed to have finally calmed down in the front seat, head resting against the window. Drowsiness had not hit her yet as she kept praying she didn't lead them too off course from the original storyline. What if Alexandrea led them to the quarry too early? Would that cause any issues? Some insane butterfly effect, or however that worked (if it did and wasn't simply dramatized for entertainment in films)? But Alexandrea knew for a fact she could not risk them staying in the city, not with the knowledge bombs would drop at any time.
The woods mostly vanished as they now winded amongst rocky formations. Staring out, Alexandrea thought she could make out a flat open section across the way.
“Here we are!” T-Dog exclaimed, slowing down the van after another minute along the bending road, smiling at Glenn then Alexandrea in the rearview mirror. “And all in one piece!”
But it seemed as though he spoke too soon.
A figure suddenly rushed out, moving his gun off of his shoulder and aiming it straight at the van. The man stood in the center of the path, giving T-Dog no choice but to abruptly step on the brake. The man grinned viciously. A second man came out, a little slower than the first and more fluidly. Mirroring the other, he quickly drew his crossbow level. Both men had the sleeves ripped from their shirts.
Alexandrea recognized the two faces instantly.
Of course, it was Merle and Daryl Dixon.