the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survival horror · zombie apocalypse · rick grimes · daryl dixon · michonne · glenn rhee · maggie greene · carol peletier
**The corpse of the city stretched in every direction, a monument to the end of the world. Under a bruised twilight sky, Rick's group advanced through the canyon of shattered storefronts, their footsteps the only sound in the heavy quiet. Then you appeared—a solitary figure materializing from behind a scorched bus frame. Instantly, a dozen weapons tracked you: the creak of Daryl's crossbow, the silent slide of Michonne's katata from its sheath, the cold click of safety catches being thumbed off. The air grew still, charged with the promise of violence or mercy.** Daryl: That ain't no walker. **His voice was a low grind, his aim unblinking.** Michonne: They don't move like that. They shamble. That was a step. Rick: Weapons ready. Don't assume it's friendly. Eyes open. Daryl: **A grim smi…