My guardian *Daryl Dixon *

Numbness. That's all Wynter felt with the biting cold hitting her skin. The biting wind wasn't the only thing that was biting nowadays. 30 days, 14 hours, and 32 seconds since the world fell apart. Wynter wasn't counting of course. She recounted the day as if it had happened yesterday.

27 days earlier

Car alarms, gunshots, and blood-curdling screams resounded throughout the air. Crowds of the once deceased took to the streets preying among the living. Wynter stood frozen in the living room of her family home. The Grimes home hadn't been touched by the chaos and destruction of the massacre that was ensuing outside yet. It was only a matter of time before the... monsters would realize there were animated beings in close proximity. Luckily the unfortunate ones were being feasted on and causing enough noise to distract the dead for now. Nobody would have ever thought a silly virus deemed by scientists as just another flu would be the reason for the end of the world so to speak. Especially not for those in North America.

"HELP ME" A woman's voice pierced through Wynter's ears. The woman's clothes were tattered, blood-soaked, and her ash blonde hair was tousled. "PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU THEY ARE COMING AFTER ME" Tears flooded down her cheeks, her eyes filled with fear locked with Wynter's. She stood frozen for a moment. She knew she had to help this woman, but at what cost? Any moment now the dead would switch their target to the loud prey. Wynter picked up her feet, darting towards the woman's gate to life or death. The door handle was now in Wynter's reach, in a few more steps this woman would be safe. Wynter felt arms envelope her body pulling her roughly away.

"What are you doing?! Let go she is going to die!" Wynter exclaimed trying to fight her father's best friend off. To her avail, his grip was too strong,

"You know I can't do that." He loosened his grip; his hand just holding her's now. Wynter continued to resist and pulled back towards the door. Her strength was no match for his, however.

"Shane she's going to die! Please!" She begged, in between tears threatening to spill. His caramel eyes bore into her hazel ones. He roughly yanked Wynter towards the back door.

"It's her or you. Over there is your gate to death. This right here is your gate to surviving. What's it going to be?" Shane's words sent a shudder down Wynter's spine. She paused for a moment unable to move. The rapping on the door became more violent, whilst the woman's sobs and pleas became louder

"I said what's it going to be!" Wynter's gaze fell to the floor. She forced her once frozen body, toward the backdoor. Wynter followed in tow behind Shane, exiting her Safehaven; and her childhood home. They silently made their way across the backyard where the chain link fence lay that separated the suburban homes from the forest. Shane came to a halt adjusting his backpack, turning to Wynter with a sympathetic sigh.

"Look, I can't imagine how you must feel right now. With the loss of your dad and now having to witness this. We need to keep going and keep fighting though. Your dad would want you to. I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you, your mom, and Carl safe, but you have to follow my orders no matter what. You have to be with me not against me. Do you understand?" Wynter scanned over Shane's stoic demeanor for any insincerity or hidden messages. Shane was many things including a potential accomplice to the maybe murder of that woman. A liar was not one of them. She knew in that moment that Shane's promise would always be upheld no matter what. It was at this moment reality set in for the 19-year-old. The world she once knew was gone. Her life was gone. Nothing would ever be the same. This... this was where it would all crumble. Just the infected and the living. The predator and the prey....

Jumping over the fence Wynter landed with a thud. She winced in pain, pulling herself up off the sod. Shane gripped onto her hand, towing her behind him whilst making their way back towards the outskirts of the neighborhood. "Where are Carl and my mom?" She questioned, demanding an answer.

"They are just up the roadways waiting in the car. We are going to make it out of the city towards a military camp 10 miles out. Keep close to me, and keep quiet. No matter what you see don't. Scream." Winter nodded slowly, her heart dropping just thinking about what they might encounter on the way there. The atmosphere turned bleak and grey. Rain drizzled over the crumbling city. Wynter's auburn hair began to stick to her damp skin. She shuddered. and folded her arms across her chest.

"I knew a cardigan and shorts was a bad idea today." She chuckled dryly, trying her best to shed an ounce of light despite the circumstances.

" yeah well, I think I would have dressed nicer than in just a pair of shorts and a green t-shirt. Surely I would be in a suit if I had known I might die today." A small smile cracked from Wynter's lips. Shane was always good at making light of a situation. Maybe that's why he got along so well with him. He would always mask his emotions in front of Wynter and her ten-year-old brother. When they couldn't be strong he always could keep them going. Even more so after their dad had been wounded from a job Shane and him were dispatched to.

It had been mere days when Shane had broken the news of her father's death. Two days 4 hours and 15 minutes to be exact. Not that Wynter was counting. Needless to say, it took a toll on the four of them.....

With everything going on Wynter didn't have the time to grieve let alone think about him, she grimaced at the memory that had begun to spin around in her head;

Being a police officer is taxing emotionally, mentally, and physically. There was always a risk every morning her dad walked out the front door. Still, he always made it back 5 o clock sharp. Until a few weeks ago. It had been an hour past due when her father was supposed to come into the door with that grim face. An hour where Carl raced down the stairs to greet him. His face had always lit up at the sight of his son. Any turmoil or bad calls seemingly vanished away from his memory the moment they both locked eyes. That was always Wynter's favorite part of the day. To see how much Rick loved them all. This day had been different. Nothing but silence filled the Grimes home. Not even a phone call had been made, which Rick always did if he was running behind.

" Mom is dad going to be home for dinner?" Carl asked, entering the kitchen. Pots had taken over the top of the oven. The aroma of the freshly made broccoli and cheddar soup had faded and so had their lighthearted spirits. Lori combed her hand through her chocolate locks and paced around the kitchen. Her other hand made its way to cover her lips, trying to contain her short staggered breaths. Lori went to speak to her son, but her mouth closed tightly as she pondered what to say. The worst scenarios occupied their minds.

"I'm sure he will be. He must have just got held up." Wynter gave a comforting smile at Carl, leading him towards the living room. "How about you pick out a show that all of us can watch while we eat? "She suggested. Carl complied, shifting into a bubbly boy again. Lori mouthed a thank you to her daughter, which was quickly followed by a head nod to follow her towards the front door.

"I'm going to go to the police station. I need you to watch over Carl. Something is wrong."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I'm sure he and Shane just went out and forgot to say something." Lori furrowed her brows,

"Please don't patronize me. You know damn well he would have said something by now." Lori snapped. Before Wynter had time to reply, sirens blared outside. Peeking out the window there were three police cars that had screeched to a halt. She felt her heart sink. Shane exited the vehicle. His light brown uniform had been tainted with fresh soaked blood. Lori swung the door open, coming face to face with a wearisome Shane. Tears had stained his face.

"Is he dead?" She spoke quietly. her hand pressed against her beating chest. Her daughter and son now stood behind her. Lori braced herself for the answer, tears forming in her chestnut eyes. Shane lowered his gaze unable to look up at his best friend's family.

How does one begin to explain to a family that their dad and husband will most likely not survive the surgery after being shot on a job. A job he went to everyday for years?

Shane ran a hand through his hair, "he's in surgery right now... we won't know until he pulls through..." Lori cupped her hand over her mouth, sobs escaping.

Wynter stumbled back into the house, unable to process that her father truly wasn't coming home this time.."