Survival of the Fittest [Walking Dead Fanfic]

One simple question that doesn't come up in any normal conversation too often in any ordinary day is, "What do you do or how do you survive when the world has gone to chaotic shit?" Skylar Elaine Reinhardt thought the only war to establish was in her home in Atlanta many years ago when the only monsters she had to deal with was her abusive, alcoholic parents. Not to mention the pathetic drama and hatred she got from bullying where obnoxious idiots tried to feed off of her fragile feelings. But not anymore. Skylar seemed to be "built" or "made" for this new hell of an earth since she trusts nobody and can easily hunt or find safe zones. She travels with her twin brother, Drake, and their little sister, Zoey. All goes well for many months after joining tons of groups, but once they decide to travel alone, all hell breaks loose and she looses sight of them in the crowded woods. What happens when she tries searching for them? Will she find a new failure of a group that will only last days?


1. Chapter 1-Living in Paradise

"Get your lazy ass up and go catch us some breakfast, Reinheart." I heard someone grumble/slur in my ear. The smell of his unbearable musky,Marlboro scent told me it was Logan, who was our "ringleader" of the group. He welcomed me every morning with a direct order to run errands, or tried to be an old desperate creep and hit on me or crawl in my sleeping bag. Some eggs and bacon, a side of orange juice would be nice but sadly me being a tough asshole like him, you don't get the royalty treatment in this dead graveyard, or doomed wasteland.

"And why can't you do it yourself? I caught us a damn deer the size of a bear just yesterday, did your big fat ass eat all of it already? You know we have young children in our camp who need to eat too, dude." I scoff and rummage through my bag for some clothes.

He quickly grabs ahold of my tank top and brings me close, his piercing dark green eyes meeting my hazel up close. My instinct was to knock him out cold right on the spot, but my brain reminded me of the cruel consequences of a possible beating.

"Excuse me, Princess? Who's in charge here? Your lucky your brother is outside or I would slap the rebellious stupidity out of you and kick your pathetic ass." He growls in my ear.

I squirm out of his strong grasp and push him out of my tent, since he wasn't fully sober he tripped and fell right on his cowardly face while cussing like a sailor into the pile of dirt. I dusted myself off and clapped in enjoyment.

I change out of my smelly old, stained pajamas that needed to be washed quite a few times, and into a grey plain t-shirt with a camouflaged jacket around my waist and some dark ripped up jeans. I slipped on my worn out combat boots and slung my crossbow over my shoulder. I put my foot on the lame excuse of a real man's chest and walked over him, spitting on him in disgust.

"There you are Sky! You do know it's noon, right?" Zoey smirked at me.

Zoey is my twelve year old sister, she's part of the reason while I'm still here in this hellhole, I care more about her safety then my own, she's my weak side and if I lost her I would become vulnerable.Along with my brother of course. Him and Zo sit around the fire pit along with six other members of the group. This group wasn't too bad, most of them aren't experienced with guns or don't know how to pitch a small, one person tent, Drake has been their teacher so far but they are still lacking far behind. I guess rich folk would rather take Pilates classes then armed protection classes or karate.

"It's like my summer vacation, there's no need to tell time anymore or know what day it is. When I'm up, I'm up it's simple as that, squirt" I mess up her wild, curly blonde hair.

"It would take an earthquake, tsunami or tornado to get you up. Your probably the only person on this planet now that can sleep with both eyes closed. I guess I'll just have to train a lot more before I can reach your high badass level." Drake rolls his eyes.

"Good luck with that buddy." I pat him on the back.

"When can you teach me to fight? I want to be like a secret samurai ninja and carry around a katana or machete sword!" Zoey complains. "I suck at using a gun and can never hit the target, it also gives me bad, horrible headaches." She sways back and forth dramatically.

"I will show you how to use a baby, butter knife later, okay?" I put my arm around her shoulder and give her a side hug.

She stomps her foot and gives me the new teenage attitude that I adore so much. She slowly drags her feet over to the other kids who were catching frogs and lizards. Those were our last resort for snacks.

"You can't baby her forever Sky and keep her behind bars, she needs to protect herself and grow up to be independent and strong without being caged." Drake said in a parent-like tone. At least I think that's how normal, loving parents teach their non-obediant kids, I wouldn't know since ours acted like we weren't their top priority or important to them. It almost felt like we were "mistakes" I guess you can safely call it.

"She's still young Drake, I don't want to risk her getting hurt-" I was interrupted by someone stomping they're foot loudly.

"If the selfish, over-protective Queen B is done with her little discussion, she needs to do the chores I assigned, we all do." Logan orders while rubbing his new friend the bump on his large head.

Drake gives him the death stare, then motions everyone to the large dirt area to show the different, new types of guns and weapons that we gathered at the nearby town, where we nearly risked our lives for. A nice old woman named, Martha, watched over Zoey for me and helped her with schooling, sowing or reading. She does a good job of keeping Logan off of her and keeps her young mind busy without worrying about the deadly creatures roaming nearby. She was basically the grandmother we wished we had around, sadly ours died after Drake and I were born. Having another relative around could of been helpful for our safety but we weren't born lucky, we were welcomed into a battle field not so different from this one. If you put Drake and I in the American army or any rebellious international group, we could easily take down thousands of armed enemies. Built up anger is what we gained from our two, non-responsible brainwashers.

"Do us all a favor king sheriff, shut that gigantic mouth of yours before someone does it for you." I mumble before heading towards the woods. My hand was behind my back, flipping the ignorant drunk off with pleasure. This idiot reminded me of my father, he acted like he was the boss of everything and punished you many times if you didn't follow his strict orders or live up to his impossible, high expectations. They also shared a strong bond with Vodka and Tequila, along with secret stashes of aged cigars in they're back pockets twenty-four seven. I knock the old memories and resemblances' out of my mind and focus on my surroundings. I found squirrel and rare possum tracks down by the river. I set a trap and climbed up in the tree for a quick rest. I heard footsteps about an hour later and put my bow in position towards the bushes. Once I heard the annoying, childish giggling I relaxed and jumped down from the second branch.

"You might not have to snatch a furry rat creature today sis, because Drake the professional fisherman caught us some salmon baby!" he almost sang loudly to the world.

"I actually did, he just helped me carry it up the hill since it's half my size. He ran around screeching like a little girl when it flopped out of the water." Zoey rolled her eyes.

"It was attacking me and was vicious, you munchkin!" he defended himself.

"Calm on gang, let's go back to camp and have some lunch, I'll check the traps later and see if I can catch us some dinner." I ordered.

"Ugh, finally you guys caught somethin'. I thought I was gunna have to go find a friendly papa bear and his family to put over the fire. Maybe they would have some tasty, homemade porridge like mom used to make." Jacob joked and rubbed his stomach. Pot fumes surrounded him and put him in dreamy land.

Jacob was Logan's older brother, he was an asshole sometimes, but not as bad as the dick head pervert. He smoked weed every now and then and would search the woods for any other camp sites or survivors. He's the one who found us when we were surrounded in a hoard of biters inside a gas station.

"Your doing the dishes since you didn't follow the simple order." Logan scowled at me.

"I am not a house wife and will not pamper everyone with sweet pink lemonade, fluff your pillows with flowers on the bedside table, and wash your huge lady boxers in the river."

"Will you just shut up and start being useful you lil' slutty tramp? Logan yells loudly in my ear.

Everyone gathers around for lunch and looks down at their plates innocently while keeping quiet. I put my weight on one foot with my hand on my hip, a nice pissed off look complimented my face. I had three weapons on my belt and my bow on my back that were at close reach, one more precious comment and I would send an arrow through his tiny, thin skull. I would have to stab his head repetitively to reach that tiny nut of a brain. Creating a murder case in my head wouldn't solve anything right now, but watching my old favorite tv show, CSI, has gave me back up plans on how to get rid of a serious problem.

"Leave the poor girl alone Logan, she's been pushed, slapped, raped, and scratched on enough-"

Drakes eyes immediately shot up and went big once he found out that I've been sexually assaulted, for the thousandth time in twenty four years. Sadly I can't say it was the first time since I lived with the poor excuse of a man who started the disaster and started a rebellion. He was about to smash his plate on the ground and slit Logan's throat open and break Jacobs jaw so he could choke on his own blood, but I locked my eyes with his signaling to him that it was a bad idea. He still shifted uncomfortably in his seat and had a strong hold on his shotgun. Zoey held my hand tightly and tried to put on a confident face, but sadly it didn't escalate any further since I caught a few tears slip down from her once cheerful, gorgeous eyes. She doesn't deserve to live in this cruel world, she's too sweet and caring and hasn't hurt a single soul in her life, not even a bug or tiny forest creature. She doesn't have a single bad bone in her tiny, innocent body.

"Cut the fake sympathy crap, alright? I don't need an insane, marijuana whore to step up and be my superman. Your like his weak, murderous wingman or sidekick you hypocrite." I say in a harsh whisper.

They both lock eyes with me and roll they're eyes in sync.

"Don't be makin' fun of the man who has a freshly sharpened knife in his hand, who also has had great target practice." Logan barked, spitting some food out.

"Bullseye!" Jacob made a pretend gun with his fingers and shot me right in the forehead.

I sat in between Zoey and Drake and we ate our lunch in silence, the only sound you could hear was Logan and Jacob smacking they're lips and eating like wild animals. Bertha talked about how we were low on supplies to her husband, Gary. Once we were done Zoey offered to do dishes for me, while Drake went to take a quick nap in the tent.

"Don't sleep too long sleeping beauty, your on watch later tonight buddy." I mocked Blake's voice.

"Ain't no one gunna be telling me what to do, it's a free country last time I checked,asshole." He then mocks mine.

Before I could walk on over to Zoey I felt two arms wrap around my waist. I almost vomited up my guts in disgust. In case you haven't noticed I'm no where near a sweet talker or being a lady-like gossiper. I got my manly trash talking side from my uncle who used the technique on people he owed serious money to. That violence led him to many attacks and landed him in prison for twenty years. It landed me in detention for a month and had to take pointless counseling for destroying my bullies "weak, fragile feelings." But now it seriously comes in handy just in case we run into psychotic weirdos while traveling in this deserted wasteland. Let's just say I don't only hurt walkers, I injure crazed maniacs who try to rob us or shoot at us on a daily basis.

"It's pretty hot when your angry, beautiful." He attempted to touch my breasts but I slapped him in the face before he could.

"Get your hands off of me you monster." I twirled around and kicked him in his "delicate little boy area"

"Get out of this camp, bitch RIGHT NOW." And slapped me so hard it felt like I left my hand on my cheek to long and got a nice, red sunburn. Im surprised he hasn't branded a tattoo on my forehead that read, "worlds biggest failure" or "worthless piece of shit in mankind." My father used to threaten me with those words with one of his cancerous cigarettes, but he wouldn't waste burning out one of his beloved best friends or treasures on me.

"Fuck you" I whimpered before running off. I'm usually the tough son of a bitch to stand up to the king bully, but I knew if I argued with the control freak any longer I would risk getting thrown out on the road and robbed of our personal belongings. Maybe having a bullet as a last meal. Besides maybe I can find some poison sooner or later to season his ratatouille with, me being a terrible cook and all.

I decided to take the long way into to woods to reach the traps, I needed to relax and clear my mind. Good thing I was an excellent tracker or else I would of gotten lost or walk in circles like a lost, abandoned puppy dog. That's what my life consisted of, never being loved and feeling worthless. That's why I became the worlds biggest dick, never let anybody get too close and acted like "feelings" or "trust" were nonexistent in my vocabulary list. Latching on to someone will only break down my walls and can get you killed, "every man for himself" was a motto I looked up to.

The only option to be put on the dinner menu tonight was barbecued or fried raccoon. I cut the cute, weak animal free from the rope that was tightly secured around the stiff branch and strung it on the rope around my shoulder like an ornament. Right when I was re-setting the trap I heard loud screams echo throughout the large, open forest nearby. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my mind set on the destination of where the attack was coming from. The sound of many gun shots made my adrenaline rise off the charts and through the roof. I didn't care if walkers were right on my trail or jumping out at me, I sprinted past them and through them like I was in a haunted maze.

When I came into the clearing all I could see was bright, yellow flames shining through the bushes, red painted everywhere in the circle and splattered on the tree bark. A few of our emergency grenades were being thrown at blurry objects that grabbed on to the nearest unlucky victim in horrific sight. I was hoping and praying to see those sparkling blue eyes and chocolate brown staring back at me through the blind smoke, but sadly I wasn't given the gift of luck from "god" so soon. The cries of children made my heart sink when they called out to they're deceased parents, who were now complete strangers looking for fresh flesh to fulfill they're overpowering hunger. I felt like I was paralyzed and everything was happening in slow motion, like in one if those dramatic, old horror films. My crossbow and other weapons on my belt were screaming my name, I thought I was gunna go insane like my drug addicted mother.

Anger filled my boiling veins when I watched a familiar, evil face use my blood related sister as a human shield against a biter. It must've been Christmas because he wasn't drunk and he was a lot stronger, which wasn't much of a miracle.

Pick up your weapon right now you strong soldier and enter the gruesome battlefield..



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