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The sharp, cold wind hit Lunette's cheeks, her blonde hair repeatedly hitting her face as she gripped the steering wheel, her eyes narrowed at the road in front of her. All that was around her was nothingness, emptiness. She was alone. Not that that was anything new, though. Lunette had always been alone.

As a little kid, she had even been alone. Her mother had up and left as soon as she was born, leaving her father alone with her. But her father was never meant to be a dad. It had all been an accident after all. One hook-up could change your life for better or worse.

In this case, it had been for worse.

Lunette had to know how to take care of herself at an early age, seeing as her father gave up on raising his daughter as soon as he could without it being classified as actual child neglect, without the people around them giving them weird looks.

She had to walk to school on her own, get her own groceries (with money that she'd steal from her father, he'd never notice because he'd be drunk out of his mind all the time), learn how to brush her own teeth and hair, buy her own clothes, all of that. She had to do all of that on her own.

But her father's attention wasn't away from her all the time. He'd only really pay attention to his daughter if she were to do anything wrong, which was at least once a day. Dropped a carton of milk? Slap across the cheek. Didn't do her homework? Pinned against the wall, another slap across the cheek. Said anything he didn't like? No food for the day. And when it got really bad, he'd lock her out of the house. She'd have to find a busstop, and manage to fall asleep there.

Lunette knew that the people around her had known what was going on in the Sallow household, but everyone had been too afraid to do anything about it. See, everyone had been afraid of her father. He was a drunkard, a man who would open his mouth at anything and anyone. Raise his hand at anything and anyone. He didn't care.

That was her childhood. As soon as she turned eighteen, she left home and her father. He pleaded for her to stay, pulling at her arm as she stood in the doorway. But she simply closed her eyes, threatening to call the police. He then slowly gave up, yelling everything he could think of at her as she got in her car and drove off, slightly swerving on the road due to not being able to see well because of her teary eyes.

She had been living on her own for only a year when she got a letter in her mail that told her that her father had died in a car accident. Drunk driving. The letter contained all of the information about the funeral, but Lunette had ripped it up into shreds, never to look at it again. She never showed up to his funeral.

Then, when the outbreak happened, she really was alone. Earlier she had at least been surrounded by co-workers and other students, whether they liked her or not. People never really liked her, seeing as she had quite the anger issues; one thing she really disliked about herself. She'd get into quite a lot of fights in her school time, and she never knew why she responded that way. Afterward, she would realize it wasn't that deep, and she should've just ignored it. But it would be too late.

She had survived alone for all this time, seeing as she was used to being alone. Only now, she had to worry about the dead ones coming for her throat. But she could handle them if there weren't too many of them.

Lunette snapped out of her thoughts, her foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. She didn't like thinking about her past. It was all too painful, too full of regrets. The only good thing that came out of it was that she learned to be self-sufficient. It made this world just a little bit easier for her.

She rolled the car to a stop when she almost drove past a convenience store, trying to see inside from the car. It was too dark inside, though, so she had to walk over to the store.

She grabbed her gun and her bag, opened the car door, and exited the vehicle. She slung her bag over her shoulder as she strode over to the shop, her eyes fixed on the windows.

Approaching the windows, she used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away some dirt and dust. She then placed a hand over her eyes, peeking inside the store. She flinched back when a dead one slammed itself against the window with a snarl. It was only one, though, so she walked around the store to find the entrance.

It wasn't hard to find, with a huge colorful sign above the door. Lunette grabbed the handle and pushed down. The door was unlocked, so she slipped inside quietly.

Switching her gun for her knife, she felt more comfortable with its silence. Her fingers curled around the handle as she crept inside, following the faint groaning of the dead one. She decided to kill it right away so she could do her own thing.

Approaching the window, she saw the dead one still slamming its hands against the window.

"Stupid things," she muttered, stepping forward and plunging her knife into its skull. The body dropped with a soft thud, its final snarl dying in its throat. She wiped her knife clean on her jeans and listened for any other signs of danger. Hearing nothing, she shrugged and put the knife back into her belt loop, then opened her bag.

Shewalked along the shelves, grabbing everything that could fit. The bag got heavier, but she managed. She had to build some muscle one way or another.

Once she was done, she closed her bag and stepped outside. She squinted against the harsh sunlight after being in the dark store for so long. Then, she froze, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun.

The driver's side of her car was surrounded by dead ones, but they soon focused their attention on Lunette. They lifted their heads, snarling in her direction as they pulled themselves away from the car, it probably having Lunette's scent, and began making their way over to her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she groaned, drawing her gun and running to the passenger side of her car.

She narrowly dodged one of the dead ones by ducking under its arm and opened the door. Throwing her bag onto the backseats, she quickly climbed inside the car, crawling over the gearstick, and plopped down on the driver's seat.

A dead one slammed against the window as Lunette hit the gas pedal. The engine roared to life, and she drove forward, smashing into one of the rotting bodies. Blood splattered across the windshield, but she managed to see around it. She reversed, turned the car, and sped away, leaving the dead ones behind.

She let out a breath of relief, but her victory was short-lived. She didn't get far before a herd of dead ones blocked her path. She slammed on the brakes, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. Looking behind her, she groaned again; another group of dead ones emerging from the forest. When she stepped on the gas, nothing happened.

"Shit,"she cursed, slamming her foot down on the pedal again. The engine revved, but the car didn't move. There was only one way out now: on foot.

Lunette wasted no time grabbing her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. The dead ones were quicker than she figured them to be, with one already attempting to climb on top of the car from behind. She pushed the car door open, slamming it against a dead one with force and knocking it back. Scrambling out of the car, she ran forward a bit before shooting that same dead one in the head. Being silent didn't make any difference for her now anyway.

She then spun around, dashing off into the forest. She had to look down frequently to make sure she didn't trip on anything, all the while keeping her eyes out for any more dead ones. She ducked under tree branches, their sharp edges cutting her cheeks.

As she began to grow more tired of running, her breathing became more ragged and in tiny amounts. Sweat trickled down her forehead, her eyes darting from side to side, making sure nothing took her by surprise. Groans and snarls from the dead ones echoed through the forest from behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her legs burned from all the running. But she couldn't, and didn't stop.

She skidded to a halt once she reached a clearing, her eyes immediately falling on a huge building that seemed to be a prison. It was surrounded by chain-link fences topped with razor wire. A small river encircled the prison, but a bridge provided an easy way across.

Strangely, there were no dead ones in the courtyard or anywhere else, except for the ones behind her, getting closer. Lunette shook her head, telling herself that would be a problem for later. She quickly ran over the bridge, careful not to trip and fall into the water. Could the dead ones even swim? She didn't know, nor did she want to find out.

Branches snapped under her feet as she bolted across the field, reaching the fences in no time. She ran to the gate, trying to pull it open, but it didn't budge. She let out a frustrated huff, curling her fingers around the wire. She looked behind her, seeing a few dead ones making their way toward her. Some of them tumbled into the water as they tried to cross the bridge all at once, and Lunette got her answer. They couldn't swim, but they didn't dissolve in the water either.

She looked up at the razor wire, noticing it was pretty spread out. If she was careful, she could climb over the fence without cutting herself open. A snarl sounded behind her, and she quickly ducked just as a rotten arm swung over her head. She unsheathed her knife, swiftly stabbing the dead one in the head. Its body slumped against the fence, and she grimaced.

"Okay," she breathed to herself, placing her boot on the wire.

Using her remaining strength, she began to climb. Hand over hand, she hoisted herself upward, the sharp metal biting into her palms. The dead ones were closer now, a whole group beneath her. If she fell, she'd be done for. They reached up, grasping at her ankles, and Lunette kicked their rotten hands away with a grunt.

Finally, she reached the top. Careful not to cut herself, she swung her leg over the fence between the curls of razor wire. Once her first leg was over, she planted her hands on the metal beam at the top. She shifted slightly to give herself more room, gripping the fence tighter as it began to shake from the dead ones slamming against it. She then swung her other leg over, wincing as the razor wire scraped her leg, tearing her jeans.

Once her other leg was over, she quickly dropped down with a huff, stumbling and almost falling. She backed up as the hands of the dead ones reached through the fence, their flesh catching on the sharp wire and ripping straight off their bones.

She then turned around, her jaw slightly dropping at the sight of the prison. It was huge. She took her gun out, gripping it tightly as she ventured toward the building. Her eyes fell on an entrance, the metal door slightly cracked open. Usually, that meant bad news. But there was no way she was going back out there for now.

She slowly pushed the door further open using her shoulder, sticking close to the walls as she made her way inside. She squinted to adjust to the darkness, carefully stepping further in.

The prison was eerily silent, save for the distant echoes of her own footsteps, but Lunette's gut feeling said she wasn't alone. She turned the safety on her gun off just in case, slowly rounding a corner.

Her arm hairs stood up straight at the unmistakable sound of hushed voices, barely audible but definitely human. Her fingers tightened around her gun, and she silently continued on her way. She didn't know the layout of this prison, but maybe she could sneak past them.

As Lunette got closer to the corner at the end of the hallway, she stumbled over a loose can of food lying on the floor. She cringed as it rolled forward and crashed against the wall. The voices immediately fell silent, and the cocking of guns sounded. She froze, making sure not to make a sound.

"Could've jus' been nothin'," a gruff voice said.

"Maybe," another voice murmured, the ruffling sound of a gun being put down echoing through the halls. Lunette breathed out, waiting until it fell completely silent. From the sounds of it, there were only two people at the other end of the corner. She could take two people. She had five bullets; that would be enough.

So, she held her gun at the ready before straightening her posture. She silently walked forward, peeking around the corner.

But alas, fate had other plans.

Without warning, rough hands yanked her forward by her jacket, slamming her against the walls beside her. Her bag slid off her shoulder, joining her on the floor as a muffled shriek pierced the air. Pain shot through her shoulder as it collided with the solid surface, forcing her to the ground. Despite the ache, she held onto her gun, twisted around and aimed it at the person standing over her.

She was met with a crossbow in her face, its bolt mere inches from her face.

With breath trapped in her lungs like a bird in a cage, she kept her own weapon steady, locked in a tense standoff with the man before her. His dark, sweat-drenched hair hung over intense blue eyes, a leather vest hugging his muscular form. His intense gaze bore into hers, but she refused to flinch, returning his stare with a glare of her own.

Another figure approached, casting a curious glance down at Lunette. Refusing to break eye contact with the crossbow-wielder, she narrowed her eyes at him, oblivious to the presence of two others.

"How did you get in here?" the man standing next to the guy with the crossbow asked Lunette, and she tore her eyes away from him to look over at the other man. A light stubble marked his face, a few strands of his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. She remained tight-lipped, withholding any response.

Frustration etched the crossbow bearer's features as he inched closer, prompting her to press back against the wall, maintaining a wary distance. The other man was quick to step forward, lightly touching Daryl's shoulder.

"Daryl, easy," he urged, earning a begrudging step back from Mr. Crossbow.

"I'm gonna ask you again. I'd like an answer this time," the other man said, slightly tilting his head at the blonde. Her hair was tousled and dirty, blood streaked her cheek, coming from a small wound. Her clothes were all torn up as well.

"How did you get in?" he asked, a bit slower but also firmer this time. Lunette met his gaze head-on, but her focus shifted at the sound of approaching footsteps.

A woman with short brown hair quickly walked up to them, slowing her pace as she noticed Lunette on the floor.

"What's goin' on?" the woman said, her voice tinged with a heavy southern accent. Her eyes flickered from Daryl to Lunette, to a Korean guy, and then to an older woman with really short hair.

"She just waltzed in here," Daryl said through gritted teeth, not lowering his crossbow. Lunette wasn't lowering her gun either. "But she's playin' mute."

The man asking her questions suddenly grabbed Lunette's arm, swiftly disarming her by snatching the gun out of her hands and stuffing it in his back pocket. Lunette was going to elbow him in the ribs, but he saw her coming from miles away. His hands grabbed both of her wrists, twisting her arms behind her back.

"I'll put her in a cell. See if she'll talk then," he declared, propelling Lunette forward and nudging her bag towards Daryl. "Daryl, grab her bag."

"You really locking me up?" Lunette chuckled sarcastically.

"Ah, she can talk," the Korean guy remarked, and Lunette shot him a look to which he quickly looked away.

"Rick, we can just take her back outside. There's no need for all of this," the older woman suggested, identifying the man as Rick.

"No. She could come from a group. We can't take the risk," he said, pushing Lunette forward again, leading her down the hallway.

Lunette groaned, throwing her head back as Rick guided her through the prison. Just an hour ago, she had been driving around in her car, worrying only about the undead, not the living. And now, she found herself en route to a jail cell in a prison, as if she had just robbed a bank.

How the hell did she get here?