The Walking Dead, Rude Awakening

The red dodge challenger whipped through the gravel path, kicking up dust as it pulled into the clearing.

T camp stirred.

People rushed over from tents and makeshift shelters, eyes wide.

A woman with sunlight blonde hair, maybe mid-20s, stood frozen near the fire pit.

"Glenn?!" she shouted, hope threading through the panic in her voice. "Where's Andrea?!"

"Everyone's okay!" Glenn called, hopping out of the car. "They're right behind me. I swear!"

The blonde, Amy, exhaled hard, placing a hand over her heart. But her eyes kept scanning the road.

Around her, the others were less calm.

"Kill that damn alarm!" one man barked over the blaring car horn.

Glenn responded in defeat, "Don't know how!"

A grizzled figure in his mid-forties, receding black hair, sweat already beading on his brow shuffled to the front of the Challenger.

Jim.

He popped the hood and yanked out the horn fuse, silencing the car in an instant.

"About damn time," he grumbled, tossing the fuse to the dirt.

Peace returned, but not comfort.

Amy stepped closer to Glenn, anxiety radiating from her. "Why didn't they come in with you?"

Glenn scratched the back of his neck, eyes trailing back down the road. "They were right behind me. Something might've slowed them down… Long story."

His voice dipped. "They'll be here. Soon."

Minutes dragged by.

The wind shifted through the trees. A flap of tent canvas snapped in the breeze. Amy crossed her arms tightly, biting her lip.

Glenn exclaiming, "They should've been here by now."

---

Down the hill, just beyond the clearing, the construction truck finally rolled into view.

It stopped on the edge of camp, rumbling before cutting to silence.

Inside, Rick stared out the windshield.

Exhaustion gripped him. His grip loosened on the wheel.

Joe sat beside him, eyes scanning the camp ahead. Voices echoed faintly up the path, but all he saw was a blur.

He clenched his jaw.

"We'll find them," he said.

Rick nodded slowly, but there was doubt behind his eyes. Hope thinning.

Then, movement.

Amy ran from the camp toward the road, shouting. "Andrea!"

Rick blinked. Glenn was calling them down, pointing.

They made it to safety.

As Lori and Carl spotted Rick, their expressions changed in an instant.

Lori's breath caught. "Rick?"

Carl shouting excitedly, "Dad!"

"Lori! Carl!" Rick shouted, stumbling from the truck as they rushed toward him.

They collided, arms wrapping tight. Carl clung to his dad's waist. Lori buried her face into Rick's chest, sobbing.

From the truck, Joe smiled faintly at the reunion. It reminded him of something he'd never get back.

But then he caught Shane's face in the crowd, his expression was twisted, bitter, and unreadable as he stared at Rick hugging Lori and Carl.

Joe narrowed his eyes slightly.

He didn't like that look.

He said nothing... But he kept that look in his mind.

As he turned away, Andrea approached him with someone in tow.

"Joe," she said. "This is my sister, Amy."

Joe glanced toward the blonde and froze.

His face went pale. Time seemed to stop.

Amy smiled awkwardly, about to speak... until Joe dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her legs, tears already pouring down his scarred face.

Amy gasped in shock.

Andrea stepped back, eyes wide.

Joe's voice cracked. "Claire… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Please forgive me," he begged, clutching tighter. "I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect John…"

Amy looked at Andrea helplessly. Andrea had no answer.

Rick saw the commotion and quickly came over. He knelt beside Joe.

"Joe," he said softly, "this isn't Claire. You're scaring her."

Joe blinked and looked up. Amy's face… similar but not the same. Her expression fearful, confused.

Reality hit him like a truck.

He let go immediately, and Amy stepped back beside her sister, visibly shaken. Her jeans soaked from his tears.

Joe stood up slowly. "I'm sorry," he muttered, and turned toward the woods, walking away.

Whispers rippled through the camp.

But just as he reached the tree line, one voice cut throught the whispers. It was gentle, quiet, unmistakable, callinh after him.

"…It's okay. I forgive you."

He stopped and looked back.

Amy gave him a small, soft smile. One of compassion.

Joe gave a faint nod and disappeared into the trees.

Everyone watched him leave.

Lori, still holding Carl, asked, "What the hell was that?"

No one answered for a long moment.

Finally, Rick said, "I think… Joe had a wife named Claire. She looked like Amy. And a baby boy... John."

Amy's voice was quiet. "What happened to them?"

Rick looked down. "I don't know the full story. But they… died. While he was deployed."

Amy looked at her sister, then took a breath and walked toward the woods without another word.

---

Joe sat alone on a rock, far from camp, staring at the sky. He had walked deep into the woods, letting the silence wrap around him.

Then he heard a twig snap.

He turned and froze.

A walker stumbled toward Amy from the side, she noticed it and screamed, tripping over herself. Scrambling on the ground, trying to get away. The walker snarled, closing in quickly.

"Help!" Amy screamed, her voice cutting through the trees.

Joe was on his feet and running in seconds.

He reached them just as the walker grabbed her arm.

Joe grabbed the walker, slamming it into a tree, then again, and again, roaring with rage. Bone cracked, blood splattered. He didn't stop until nothing recognizable remained of the walker's skull.

Panting, he rushed to Amy's side, hands frantically checking for bites. None.

He exhaled, relief washing over his face.

Amy, still shaking, leaned into his chest, hearing his speedy heartbeat. "Thank you," she whispered.

Joe held her gently. "I know you're not Claire. But I won't let anything happen to you."

Amy looked up, seeing his face caked in gore. Her lips trembled, but she didn't move away.

They sat like that a while, until she stood.

He rose with her.

Amy looked at the headless corpse and said, "Let's get back to camp."

Joe nodded.

As they walked back, Amy slipped her hand into his.

---

When they emerged from the woods together, covered in blood and gore. everyone stared.

Andrea rushed over. "What happened?!"

Amy answered calmly, her hand still in Joe's. "I was looking for him. A walker came out of nowhere. He saved me."

Gasps echoed through the group.

"A walker? This close?!"

Rick and Shane approached. Rick spoke up first. "Glad you're safe. But we need to start talking defenses."

"Agreed," Morales said. "This proves it, this place isn't safe."

Joe stayed quiet, holding Amy's hand gently.

...

Rick and Shane stood near the campfire, voices low but firm.

"We need to reinforce the perimeter," Rick said, glancing toward the tree line. " A walker this close. That's one too many."

Shane nodded, arms crossed. "We've got fishing wire, maybe some cans for sound traps. And the RV has a decent vantage point, we can keep watch."

Dale, listening nearby, chimed in, "I'll rig something from the top of the RV. If we string enough line, we'll hear 'em before we see 'em."

A few others nodded along. The mood was tense, but focused and productive.

Meanwhile, Joe sat near a fire in silence, until Amy walked up with a bundle of folded clothes.

"I figured you could use these," she said, handing him a clean shirt and a pair of cargo pants. "Come on. I'll show you where you can clean up."

He stood slowly, nodded a quiet thanks, and followed her.

They walked in silence down a gravel path that wound gently toward the base of the quarry. The evening sun glinted off the water, calm and still.

Amy stopped a few feet from the shoreline. "You can bathe here. I'll be over there, behind that rock. No peeking."

Joe gave a faint smile.

She stepped away, and Joe began unbuckling his vest and gear, methodically stripping off the layers of grime and sweat from today. His shirt clung to him before he peeled it off, revealing the rough edges of war and survival etched into his skin. His chest chisled and his abs shredded, he was scarred but strong.

After setting his pistol within reach, he waded into the water, letting it wash over him like a weight lifting from his shoulders. He submerged, scrubbed the dirt from his face and body. Emerging looking a little lighter.

When he finished cleaning himself. Joe returned to the shore, picked up his knife, and began shaving with short, practiced strokes.

Bit by bit, the man who had stumbled through the apocalypse was stripped away, and someone else emerged. Young. Handsome.

Rick would be shocked to find that someone he thought of as a peer was actually just a kid in his late 20's.

Just as he was rinsing his face again, he heard a yelp nearby.

He turned fast, instincts flaring and rushed toward the sound.

Rounding a boulder, he stopped short.

Amy stood there, shivering, her arms crossed. She was fine, no danger, just caught off guard by the cold air after a dip in the lake.

Joe glanced at every inch of her smooth pale skin, water dripping down her full breasts, and down her flat stomach but it had a slight amount of pudge, real.

Continuing down, he saw a smooth navel, not a hair in sight. Further down were pale, thighs, slim yet surprisingly plump.

Amy turned in his direcrion and froze when she saw him, then yelped. Covering herself.

Her eyes widened, seeing his face without the heavy beard, and her expression changed, first surprise, then something else.

Joe blinked and looked away. "Sorry. Thought something happened."

"No, I... sorry. Just startled myself," she stammered. She looked at him a little closer and saw his dick was slightly hard. It was longer than any of the descriptions that Andrea had told her.

He noticed her gaze , but was unfazed. "I'll head back."

She stood silently as he walked away, then called out, "Wait... Joe?"

He paused.

"You look… different," she said gently. "Better."

He looked back at her, just for a moment, and gave a small smile.

—

Back at camp, Joe left his dirty gear with Amy, her having offered to clean it for him. Joe set up his tent quickly, in the spot Amy had pointed out.

Glenn had helped him get supplies from the storehouse. A tent, blankets, some food. Offering a quiet thumbs-up before wandering off again.

...

Joe had just warmed up a can of chili when he noticed a small girl watching him from a nearby log. She looked hungry but said nothing.

"You hungry?" he asked, holding out a can of chicken soup.

She nodded shyly and sat beside him. They ate together in silence.

From a distance, Amy watched the scene unfold. A small smile crossed her lips. Her heart fluttering in her chest.

They quickly finished their food and sat in silent harmony.

Then a rough voice called out, "Sophia! Get back in here!"

The girl jumped and ran toward the voice.

Joe watched her go, unease stirring in his gut. But he said nothing.

The night settled around the camp. Joe crawled into his tent, wrapped himself in a blanket, and passed out.