Don't Lie to Me | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 1 - The Walking Dead

"Rach! Get down here!" Thomas yelled, his voice travelling from the living room up to the nursery.

"Mother fu-" Rachel winced and sighed as her nine-month-old daughter immediately woke up and started crying and screaming. "Perfect."

She lifted Mya out of the crib to cradle her in her arms, bouncing on her knees a little. "Shh, it's okay."

Rachel reached over to the mobile that hung over the crib, and she flicked a switch that made it play a lullaby. She started humming along to the tune of Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star, and Mya's cries softened into sniffles as she rested her head on Rachel's chest.

"Good girl," Rachel whispered. "You're my best girl."

"Rach!"

"I'm coming!" she called back.

She stopped for a second to take a deep breath. The way he was yelling her name made her nervous, and she found herself holding Mya a little tighter. She kissed the top of the child's head as she bounced her lightly, finding a comfort in holding the girl close.

"Come on baby." Rachel went downstairs to find her husband standing in the living room, his eyes glued to the TV screen and the remote gripped in his fist. "I only just got her down. What's the mat-"

"Shh," Thomas cut her off. "Just listen." His eyes never left the screen as he turned up the volume, and Rachel followed his gaze.

"-Whatever this sickness is, it's somehow leading the bodies of the recently deceased to reanimate and attack the living. The situation is out of hand, and authorities are insisting everyone evac-"

Rachel's eyes widened as she watched footage of people rushing around on the streets, screaming and panicking as soldiers gave orders for them to run whilst firing guns. The footage was messy and kept glitching, until eventually the screen went completely static.

"What the fuck," Thomas whispered to himself. He started pressing all the buttons on the remote, flicking through the channels, only for them all to come up dead.

"They said evacuate," Rachel said, her voice trembling. "Where do we go?"

"They mentioned some refugee place in Atlanta," Thomas replied, already rushing to the kitchen, and emptying the cabinets. "We should grab whatever we can and get the hell outta here."

"Atlanta is over five-hundred miles away," Rachel protested. "If that's where everyone's going, there's no way-"

"You got a better idea?" Thomas snapped as he threw some tinned foods into a black rucksack.

"Yeah, I do. Take her," Rachel quickly went to Thomas, who took the baby from her. "I'll be right back."

"Where the hell you goin'?" Thomas jogged after her to the office as fast as he could with Mya.

Rachel was knocking papers and files off of her desk until she found what she was looking for. "My key card to get into the precinct," she explained. "It's a lot more secure than the house. We can wait there until broadcasts come back. Or at least until we come up with something else."

A loud crashing sounded out from the street, followed by several car alarms going off at once. People outside were yelling and screaming, and the sound carried through the house. Mya started crying in Thomas' arms, sensing the fear that lingered in the room.

The couple shared a look before rushing back to the living room, and peering through the window, seeing where two cars had crashed into each other head-on. The streetlamps illuminated the streets along with the flashing orange hazard lights on all the cars, and Rachel's eyes scanned the entire scene, wondering what in the fresh hell was happening.