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“Last Survivor” -- Walking Dead / We’re Alive Crossover (Carley is found and saved.)

posted by ZombieGoBoom on - last edited - Viewed by 11.1K users
This is a crossover fanfic with the “Walking Dead” game and “We're Alive” a podcast show. Those who are not familiar with We’re Alive, it is more like survivors battling the monsters from 28 Days Later and Left 4 Dead than facing the undead in a typical zombie apocalypse movie.

Unfortunately, the characters from We’re Alive are all situated in Los Angeles and I had to move them into Georgia to make this work.

And yes, Carley survives the gunshot in this one. If you don’t like it then write your own story. :p

FF.Net Link: Last Survivors

Feedback is needed. ;)

Chapter One: Wounds

"She... She.... She's dead! Why did she shoot her?"

"Get in! We're leaving this crazy bitch."


"Lee, she's gone. You heard Ben, you can't help her. Get in or do I have to drag you!"


She woke as if coming out of a deep sleep to find herself face down in the dirt.

What happened?

Almost immediately she felt a painful burning sensation in her left cheek and eye. Her head started to throb as she tried to move her limbs.

Shit. I feel like crap. What happened?

Slowly she pushed herself up and that's when she noticed something else was wrong. She couldn't see out of her left eye. It was night but the moon and stars were out and giving off enough light to see out of her right eye but something was wrong with her left.

Fighting down her panic, she reached up and touched the left side of her face. When she pulled her hand back she found it to be covered in blood. Almost shaking in fear now, she looked around to find herself on the side of a long stretch of a road, lined with trees on either side.

How did I get here?

Then she heard them, the slow shuffling of feet through piles of fallen leaves and the bone chilling constant low moaning. Like right out of a foreboding bad dream, three walkers emerged out from the shadows of the trees, heading straight towards her.

Carley rose to her feet to flee but she almost blacked out from the effort. The sudden movement caused new pain to surged through her head, making it feel like it was about to split open.

The walkers closed in on their new prey.

No, get up and move!

Through sheer will and much fear for her life, Carley started to run as best as she could but her aching head made it almost impossible and for some reason her body had so little strength to give. At most, all she could manage was a fast walk down the road. Carley fumbled inside her coat for her gun but came up empty. The situation was growing from bad to worse.

I'm injured, most likely seriously, no weapon and being chased by walkers. Which one will do me in first?

Looking behind, one of the three walkers was actually gaining on her. Carley tried to move faster but every step felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to her already throbbing head.

The fast walker behind her sounded so close now that she didn't dare look back. Exhaustion was overtaking her and Carley started to cry from her good eye. Maybe it would be better to stop running and let it end now than drag this out needlessly.

Then there was a light from behind and the sound of an engine. A vehicle was approaching and it filled Carley with unexpected hope to keep moving. The vehicle was loud as it sped up and swerved around them to pass on her left. Carley looked and her jaw dropped. It was a humvee! An honestly to goodness US military humvee.

Still trying to keep ahead of the pursuing walkers, Carley tried to wave and call to them but she couldn’t catch her breath to shout. Worse, probably in her condition and in the dark they might think she was a walker too. Even in the gloom of night, she could see faces inside the vehicle windows looking out but they were already passing to accelerate away.

With all she had left, Carley finally screamed out. "PLEASE HELP ME!!!"

This caused her head ache even more but it made the humvee screeched to a halt about fifty feet ahead of her. The front side passenger door flew open and a man jumped out. It was too dark to make out his face but the outline of his body showed that he was dressed head to toe in full military combat gear. In his hands, he cradled an assault rifle. At that moment he was the most beautiful sight in the world to Carley.

He took a step towards her as he brought his weapon up. "If you are living, GET DOWN!" The man barked.

Carley almost nodded as she dropped to the hard pavement. An instant later, she heard three loud cracks from his discharging weapon. When her ears stopped ringing seconds later, the moaning of the walkers that had been dogging her from behind had been permanently silenced. Still on her hands and knees and gasping for breath, Carley couldn't stop shaking, unable to believe she was rescued. She then heard more voices coming from the vehicle.

"Watch the tree line!" A powerful and rough older voice commanded. "But shoot only if you have to!"

"I got it!" A much youthful male voice answered back.

Carley then heard people approaching. Lifting her head, she saw the soldier and next to him a woman in plain civilian clothing hurrying to her with flashlights. When they reached her, they shined their lights right into Carley's face, nearly blinding her. Her two would be rescuers actually paused in shock which scared Carley.

How bad are my injuries?

For a moment she feared they would turn around and abandon her.

"Please, don't leave me." Her plead was feeble and weak but she nearly at the end of her rope, her strength fading and she was terrified of dying out here alone.

The woman snapped out of it first and spoke with a gentle French accent. "We won’t." She knelt down next to her, taking Carley's hand into hers before turning to the soldier. "Angel, help me."

However, the soldier still hesitated before kneeling down before Carley, studying her damaged face with his flashlight.

“Wait.” He was more professional sounding and asked Carley direct. “Were you bitten?”

“I don’t know…” Carley muttered. She couldn’t remember what happened to her, her headache was getting even worse. “I was with a group at this motel and we were attacked by bandits. We escaped but… everything is a blank after that. Help me… please… please…”

Angel nodded and looked to the French woman. “Riley, this looks like a messy gunshot wound and not a bite. Let’s chance it.”

I was shot? I need a mirror to see how bad it is.

From the humvee, the young voice called to them. "I would hurry you two! We're doubled park and I'm seeing a ton of movement in the trees!"

Riley and Angel each took an arm and helped Carley to their vehicle and quickly placed her in the back. All the way to the humvee, Carley was almost delirious with gratitude, thanking them over and over. She wanted to kiss them.

Inside, Carley collapsed into her seat in a mixture of relief and exhaustion as the French woman took her place next to her on her right. To Carley’s left a large and older man with no hair and a grey beard, dressed in civilian cloths climbed in.

To the front, Angel hurried around into the passenger seat as the driver slide back behind the wheel pulling a pair of night vision goggles from his face. He turned back to them and he was a young black man, dressed in full combat gear like Angel.

"How is our..." He stopped when he looked at Carley and saw her face and nearly exclaimed. “Holy... Is she going to be all right?”

Carley could barely keep her good eye open now. On second thought, I don’t want that mirror.

"Just drive Saul." The French woman said urgently, as she reached in the back compartment for the first aid kit. “Burt, help me dress her wound.”

The older man leaned in closer to help Riley tend to Carley’s damaged face before saying in a gruff voice. “Radio ahead and warn them we have wounded coming in.”

“I’m already on it.” Angel said.

The humvee pulled away as dozens of walkers piled out onto the road from the forest. They mindlessly tried to follow the military vehicle as its taillights grew smaller into the night before disappearing around a bend in the road.

143 Comments - Linear Discussion: Classic Style
  • cormoran;677016 said:
    Ahh, so what you REALLY meant to say in your introduction is that only positive feedback is needed.
    Dont be like that, sampz comment wasn't productive criticism or really criticism at all, it was stating the blatantly obvious.
  • Chapter Two: New Dawn

    Sergeant Michael Cross stood inside the compound, alongside with Doctor Sherman Cottle. Their attention was focused on the main gate as they waited.

    "How close are they now?" Doctor Cottle asked impatiently. He knew every minute counted. “Shouldn’t you check with them again?”

    "They were about two miles out the last time they radioed in and considering how Saul drives..." Michael started to say when they both heard the roaring engine of the approaching humvee. "Right about now."

    The armed guard manning the tall metal gate quickly swung it open as the humvee with its glaring headlights peeled in and came to a stop. Michael and the doctor quickly hurried to the vehicle as Burt slowly half carried the injured woman out from the back right side passenger door. The entire left side of her face was now completely bandaged over.

    "She's getting worse doc." Burt said. “She's been in and out of it all the way here."

    "Did you get her blood type?" The doctor demanded.

    "B positive, like me." Burt replied.

    "Good and you won’t mind being her first donor then," Doctor Cottle quickly moved to help him. "Get her inside."

    "Are you going to be able to save her?" Riley said as they took her towards a rather large nearby building.

    Doctor Cottle shrugged and said over his shoulder. "I never promise anything other than I will do my best."

    After watching them disappear into the building, Michael turned to Saul, Angel and Riley. "Okay, what happened out there?"

    "We were finally on our way back when we came across what we thought were four walkers chasing after something down the road, maybe some wild life." Saul said.

    "Then as we went around them, one of them started screaming for help." Angel continued. "That's when Saul stopped and I jumped out and engaged the three walkers chasing her."

    "Who is she," Michael questioned. "Did she tell you anything?"

    "Her name is Carley,” Riley answered. “And she told us that she and some other survivors were all sheltered in a motel they had fortified when it was attacked by bandits. But she can't remember anything after that."

    "You believed her?" Michael asked.

    “What?” Riley looked surprised by the question, her French accent became stronger, usually whenever she got excited or annoyed. "Of course! You didn't see her condition, her fear. She thought she was going to die out there."

    "I know, I know," Michael held his hand up. "We just have to be careful with who we let in. For all we know she might be a bandit who betrayed her own group and they left her out there for the walkers as final punishment. That’s the last type of person we need inside these walls."

    "So, what is the plan now with our newest guest?" Saul said to Michael.

    "Well, let’s see if Doctor Cottle can do anything for her first before we get too far ahead of ourselves." Michael said and nodded to all three of them. "Regardless, you all did the right thing. Now, get some sleep because tomorrow is going to be another day."


    She woke as if coming out of a deep sleep to find herself lying on a… a bed? She opened her eyes and immediately felt something was wrong. She couldn’t see out of her left eye, something was wrapped around nearly half of her face and head. She reached up and found them to be bandages. Then the memories returned.

    I was alone, out on the road, injured, and being chased by walkers... and then being rescued.

    Slowly, Carley took in her surroundings and saw that she was in a small bedroom. There was a large window with the curtains partially drawn with daylight shining in. A single dresser and a few chairs was the only other pieces of furniture here beside the bed. A couple of pictures of horses adorned the walls. The bed itself she was on was very comfortable and the blankets covering her were nice and warm. The only thing she had on was a simple white robe.

    "I was rescued..." Carley muttered to herself. Then she touched her face again.

    What happened to me and why can't I remember how I got injured and left out there?

    With great effort she started to sit up to get out of bed when Carley felt something tied around her right ankle. Frowning, she threw off the blankets to find a leather strap tying her to the bed post. This confused Carley more than it worried her. If she was a prisoner she would be completely tied up. There was nothing stopping her from reaching down with her free hands and unfastened it. So why...

    "It's just a needed precaution."

    Carley quickly looked up to see a man in BDUs standing in the doorway. He looked in his late twenties, with good looks that made him perfect for any army recruiting poster. His eyes however looked tired and slightly stressed. With all that has happened over the last few months it would be perfectly understandable to Carley.

    "I'm Sergeant Michael Cross. I hope it didn’t alarm you."

    "No," Carley shook her head. He sounded very polite and courteous which helped to relax her. "It just doesn’t make...." Then she realized the reason for the leather strap securing her to the bed. "It’s for if I should turn, right?"

    Michael nodded. "We do that for all our badly sick and wounded, like yourself." He stepped towards her. "But you look well on your way to recovery, allow me."

    She watched as Michael unbuckled the strap around her ankle, removing it. Freed, Carley gave her ankle a slight rub before pulling her legs closer to her body. "Thank you."

    "You're welcome." Slowly, Michael reached for a wooden chair in the corner of the room and moved it next to her bed before taking a seat. He leaned forward towards her, his elbows resting on his knees. "How are you feeling?"

    Carley touched her bandaged face again. "Considering what happened, I’m okay I guess. How badly was I hurt?"

    Michael paused for a moment to consider his reply but decided against sugar-coating it. "Doctor Cottle worked on you almost through the night. The bullet grazed your left cheek, just below the eye but it still went deep enough to do a lot of damage to flesh and bone. He's a good surgeon but he couldn't save your left eye and there will be scarring. He did what he could but our resources are limited."

    He watched her as she sat silently in the middle of the bed, still touching the bandages to the wounded side of her face. Michael had seen this too often with fellow wounded soldiers from Iraq suffering with life changing injuries. Unfortunately, Michael had become a little hardened and with everything else that happened to the world he once knew, he has grown a little detached to everyone around him. It was all he could do to shield his own sanity but he finally managed to add a sympathetic. "I'm sorry."

    "No," Carley shook her head. "I should be grateful. If it wasn't for your people, I wouldn't be here.” She immediately changed the subject to something else. “So is this a military base or something?"

    Michael gave a guarded answer. He still didn’t know her. "Sort of."

    “But you are military. Do you know what is going on? How this started? There were so many rumors."

    "I don't know how it started. I don’t think anyone has a clue. First it was news stories of people attacking each other in the streets and turning on the police when they showed. There were rumors of it being a terrorist gas attack which was driving people insane, to stories of escaping mental patients or some new drug on the street turning users cannibalistic. Then the reality of the situation hit me full on when I got the call that my unit was being mobilized and was driving back to Atlanta when I got caught in traffic. That's when I first saw one. He was bloodied, his cloths were torn to pieces and his face and eyes were blank of any emotion."

    Carley listened quietly and almost whispered. "What happened?"

    Michael took in a breath and released it quietly. Just remembering that day when everything went to shit in a hurry was still hard to believe. He served three tours in Iraq and he saw enough human carnage to last several life times but that was in a war zone and not in the backyard of your own country. Everything fell apart so damn quick after that first day. He locked eyes with Carley as he continued.

    "Something inside told me not to move as he or it walked right pass my car and went after the car behind me that was honking its horn impatiently. It just reached in through an opened window and started attacking the driver. I just watched and saw blood spattering on the inside of the windshield. I couldn’t believe what was happening and when I saw more approaching, I just hit the gas and drove away on the grassy medium."

    "I was covering a news story when my van was attacked by a group of them. It was horrifying and so surreal like a mad dream."

    "You're a reporter?" Michael asked.

    "Yes and I would have never escaped if it wasn't for Doug who came to my rescue."

    "You said you were with a group. Where are they?"

    Carley shook her head. "I have no idea if they’re no longer at the motel but Kenny has always been discussing plans of trying to reach Savannah for a boat."

    Michael sat up straight in the chair. "Are you sure about that?"

    “He was very determined in finding a boat.” The look of concern on Michael's face quickly worried Carley. "Is something wrong?"

    "Just trying to enter any of the major cities is suicide. They belong to the dead."

  • Keep it coming! I'm intrigued and I like a good story!

    Edit: I owe you a further thank you for an introduction to "We're Alive", I'm hooked!
  • This is my new canon for Carely, nice work!
    Look forward to the next one.
  • ZombieGoBoom keep doing this! I wasn't convinced when I started reading but it didn't take long until I found myself wanting to know more! If you decide to write more chapters I will read them, no doubt.
  • sounds a bit like metal gear solid snake eater... ;)

    i'll be doing on of my own on the carley fb page soon ;)
  • Holy Shit! There's actually a "Carley" listed in the character list for "We're Alive".
  • Here’s the latest chapter. I’m having fun writing this and seeing where I can take this story. I also appreciate all the feedback and it helps. The next couple of chapters should be very interesting. Think of the worse place that Carley could visit which might end in a hail of bullets.

    Chapter Three: Rooster

    They handed me this note book to keep a journal, a daily log of my experiences and told me that writing stuff down supposed act as some sort therapy or whatever. I’m not much in writing a diary but they insisted everyone has to keep one and to write, which is good because it finally means I can stay.

    Where should I start?

    It has been four weeks since my rescue and my wounds have mostly healed. Their doctor, a Sherman Cottle is really good but he can be a little cranky at times. He fixed what he could but I still find it hard to look at my reflection in the mirror with all the bandages off now. Burt had an eye patch made up for me to cover my missing left eye and it even conceals some of the scars on my left cheek. Now, I look like a character from Kill Bill and I also think Burt gave me this eye patch so he can go ‘Arrgh! Thar be Zombies!‘ whenever he sees me. Great!

    I should be grateful to be alive in a world filled with death but I just want to find and kill the bastard who did this me. I want my face back!

    Okay, enough with feeling sorry for myself.

    The setup they have here is amazing. Makes our motel look third world and its even better than the St. John‘s farm in security but minus the cannibals part. I was told they almost stumbled across this place by accident. Outside of the town of Amercus, they literally found this small mansion surrounded by eight foot walls. The owner, whoever he was must have had a thing for his privacy. The place has security cameras, motion sensors and even a panic room. Michael and the others have no idea what happened to the owner. Maybe he was off on vacation when everything started.

    The place has a separate garage four times the size of my modest little home where he kept his old collection of cars he had. Michael’s group kept a few because their simpler engines might be easier to maintain than a modern one. Unfortunately, the rest were unfit to be of any use and went outside the walls to make room. Right now possibly a quarter of a million dollars worth of antique cars is rusting away as I write this. At least they kept the 69 Mustang. I want to drive it.

    The only thing better than having the walls to keep the walkers out is the good size in ground swimming pool for a source of water. They have already setup the mansions eave troughs to catch any falling rain water and funnel it into the pool.

    They have Pegs, who is a botanist who oversees the garden they have built here in the spacious backyard. They even managed to grow some vegetables before the cold season hit. Altogether, there are about 32 people here, including me but Michael said they have enough food stored to get us through the winter.

    I finally had a chance to demonstrate my shooting skills with a gun and I think I impressed Michael and the others a bit. Michael even asked if I would volunteer to ride shotgun in food and fuel patrols today. I was happy to accept just for the chance to show that I can carry my own weight around here.

    There are only four soldiers in this group which is Michael, Angel, Saul and Burt who is a former marine. Besides me, there are only a couple of civilians here who had ever used a firearm in their lives. They definitely want anyone with past experience in handling a gun when going outside the walls. There is also Riley who happens to be a pro archer. Her skills with a bow are invaluable when needing to take down walkers quietly.

    With everything I have here, I still wonder what happened to my old group. Where are they? Are they safe? Are they even alive? Why was I left for dead? Did they honestly think I was dead?

    I need to know the answers to these questions. I have to try and convince Michael to help me find them but so far he has refused. Savannah is too far, too big and too much of a risk to search for them he told me. Still, I have to do something. To sit here safe while the others and Lee could be…

    There was a soft knock at the door. Carley looked up from the small table in her room where she was writing. She closed her notebook and turned to face the door.

    “Come in.”

    The door opened and a slender blonde woman peeked in and gave her a warm smile. “Hi Carley.”

    “Hello Lizzy. Need something?”

    Lizzy is another friend Carley quickly made here over the weeks and the blonde women even helped to look after Carley while she was recovering from her wounds. They got along so well that they decided to become roommates.

    They have rules, like any roommates such as knocking before entering. The two agreed upon it after Carley accidentally walked in on Lizzy when Saul was paying her a visit. The young lovers were getting very romantic and they forgot to lock the door which gave Carley a startling surprise. All three promised to never mention that incident again.

    “Michael is out there with Burt and Saul getting the humvee ready and I was wondering if you had forgotten the time.”

    Carley glanced at the battery powered clock on the wall and jumped up from her chair. She was so focused writing in her notebook that she lost track of time. “Shit! I’m almost late for my first patrol.”

    Lizzy watched as her roommate raced around grabbing her coat. “Relax. You still have five minutes.”

    “Impressions are everything Lizzy.” Carley said as she quickly zipped up her coat. “And I need to be on Michael’s good side to get his help.”

    “Still hoping to find your friends?”

    “Yes. I can’t stop thinking about them.”

    “I understand and if you need my support you have it.”

    Carley give the blonde a grateful smile. “Thanks Lizzy.”



    Outside, Carley left the mansion front door and walked towards the garage where the humvee was parked just outside. By the time she got there, the men already had the vehicle ready to go.

    Carley approached Michael as he and the others were doing a last minute weapon check. Both Michael and Saul had a sidearm and a M4 assault rifle with a foregrip and a red dot scope attachment. Burt only carried one weapon, a chrome Desert Eagle that his former wife used and he even named it after her, Shirley. The gun was basically a hand cannon. His wife must have been something to be able to fire such a powerful weapon.

    “Sorry that I am late.” Carley apologized.

    “It’s alright,” Michael looked at her, not sounding mad or anything. “We decided to get an early start. Go to Burt, he has your weapon.”

    Relieved, she approached Burt and the large man grinned at her. “I have something I think you will like.”

    He handed her a belt and a holster with a pistol sheathed inside it, with three extra magazine clips. Taking them, Carley carefully pulled the gun from the holster and she simply marveled at it.

    “It’s a glock 17,” Burt explained. “Holds 17 rounds, has less recoil, making it more accurate. You also have three extra magazines and between them and the one already in the gun, you have 68 rounds altogether.”

    Carley continued to admire the gun, although the grip was longer in length, the weight and feel of it was nice in her hands. “Thank you Burt. I promise to take good care of it.”

    The old marine just grunted with amusement. “You better, it’s supposed to take care of you too.”

    Besides being a former marine, Burt also owned a gun store and when he joined up with Michael and the others, he brought a small arsenal of weapons with him. This included his personal and maybe slightly illegal collection of weapons.

    Carley smiled as she reholstered the gun and started to fasten the belt around her slender waist. “Point taken.”

    “One last thing, you will need a nickname.” Burt stated.

    “A nickname, why?”

    “We mainly only have CBs to transmit with and anyone could listen in, so we avoid using our real names or the names of places we’re visiting.” Burt explained.

    This made perfect sense to Carley. “Sure. What’s my?”

    “We select our nicknames after the names of birds.” Burt told her.

    Listening in, Saul stepped closer to explain. “For example, I’m Penguin and Michael over there is Broken Wing.”

    Michael was still checking his gear but he looked up long enough to explain. “My arm was in a sling at the time, long story.”

    “Our base is called the Nest.” Saul continued. “And old Burt here is Raven.”

    “Why I am not surprised,” Carley commented with a chuckle to the old marine but now she was curious. “Okay, what is my nickname? Maybe Sparrow, White Dove or maybe Black Dove, it’ll make me all mysterious sounding.”

    Burt couldn’t stop grinning. “I was thinking Rooster.”

    Carley frowned. “What? Rooster is a male bird.”

    “I was thinking as in Rooster Cogburn. You know, John Wayne.” Burt told her. “You do know who John Wayne is?”

    “God yes, my father watched nothing but westerns when I was growing up,” The former news reporter sighed. “Where did you think I learned how to shoot? Are you seriously going to call me Rooster?”

    “Well, it does fit you,” Burt countered. “Eye patch and you are damn good with a pistol.”

    Carley looked to Michael and Saul but the two almost held up their hands defensively.

    “I was just happy to be named after a bird with some style.” The black soldier commented.

    “I could care less about mine,” Michael shrugged at her. “Just be glad Vulture is already taken.”

    Carley threw up her hands. “All right, I’m Rooster then. It’s just a dumb nickname so I’ll be your one eyed cowgirl.”

    “That’s the spirit!” Burt laughed.

    “Come on, show’s over,” Michael finally interrupted. “We’re burning daylight.”

    Burt got behind the wheel of the humvee as the rest of them boarded. Michael and Saul climbed in the back, leaving the front passenger seat for Carley.

    Starting up the humvee, Burt drove up to the main gate as the guard opened it for them and quickly they passed on through and were on their way.

    About five minutes down the road, Burt grabbed the mike for the radio and handed it to Carley. “Better contact the Nest and let them know our status.”

    Carley took the mike as Burt added. “Don’t forget to use your nickname.”

    Sighing, Carley spoke into the radio. “This is… This is Rooster to Nest. Over.”

    To her surprise, Angel’s voice replied and she could almost hear him fighting down his laughter. “This is Toucan. I read you Rooster. How’s the new nickname working for you? Over.”

    Carley heard Saul and Burt laughing and even Michael cracked a smile. Rolling her good eye, all she could think of was.

    At least they’re not calling me small.

    Next chapter: Mayday.
  • Great,can't wait for next chapter :D
  • I actually laughed together with the characters during the last lines :) And really neat reference at the end of the chapter!
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