Just Keep Running is a fan fiction story of The Walking Dead created and written by Creatoroflocalcartoons.

Chapter One


Bonnie stuck close to me. She was scared, and I was, too. She was young, innocent, undeserving of a life where she would be forced to grow up. We were lucky to escape the prison alive. Ever since it was attacked, and we lost everyone else, we'd been on our own, alone and afraid. I was fifteen, and we were both orphans. Our parents had died long ago, before the first winter, before the prison. We stuck to the roads, I knew it wasn't safe, but it was our only option. The woods were filled with walkers, and I wanted to avoid them at all costs, especially without a weapon of any sort. Bonnie held my hand as we walked. Her blonde curls bounced as we walked along the dirt road, her head looking down at her feet. I wanted to cheer her up, but there was nothing I could do. It was pointless to say that everything would be alright. I knew it wouldn't. I had convinced myself that the prison was an inpenetrable fortress that could never be brought down, not even by the hand of God. But, the prison was just a modern version of the Titanic.

My mind raced as we kept moving along, as if there were a hamster wheel in my head that would never stop spinning, and the hamster never got tired. I thought about the man at the fence, the man with the eyepatch and the tank, the man who killed Hershel. I hoped he was dead. I hoped that he had gotten what he deserved or worse. He killed a good man, probably the best man left in the whole, entire world. Now, everyone was gone, everyone except for my little sister.

"I'm hungry," Bonnie whispered.

"I know," I said to her in a calm voice, "Me, too."

"I wish we could have storytime again," she told me.

I had never really gone to the storytime that Carol had given, but I knew what went on there. They would read until no one who would rat them out was around, and then Carol would teach the children at the prison how to survive. I was fine with it, I thought that Bonnie needed to know how to protect herself and others if it came down to it.

"Don't worry," I explained, "We'll find someplace nice, a place with storybooks and lots of nice people."

"I hope so," Bonnie whimpered.

Her tone was an upsetting one, one of uncertainty. I didn't think she believed what I was saying. A soft breeze blew, and it made our hair blow around, the leaves in the trees on both sides of us rustled. Above, white clouds rolled across the sky. Although I was deeply saddened and unsure myself, I was glad to know that my little sister, my innocent little sister, still had hope. It was rare in this world to still have hope. It was rare to find good people, we had run into so many bad ones before we found the prison. They liked to sneak-up on travellers, kill them and take whatever loot the people had. We had seen it happen more than once.

The road came to a fork, and I was confused.

"Which way 'ya think we should go?" I asked Bonnie.

She looked at both paths. Bonnie always had liked to weigh her options, "Let's go right," she said.

"Alright, right it is."

There were still trees on both sides of us, tall oaks and spruces that provided adequate shade from the sun that was high in the sky. My mind then turned to Jason, whom I hadn't seen escape back when we were attacked.

"I want Jason, Jessica."

I said nothing.

"Is everyone dead?" Bonnie asked.

"I don't know, Bonnie."

We walked in silence for several hours. Day began to turn to night, and I knew that we had to find some form of shelter. I told Bonnie to stay extremely quiet, and we used the moonlight to help us walk in the darkness. Then, the road curved into a driveway.

"I'm really tired and hungry, Jessica," Bonnie whined.

"I know, I know, just hold your horses, okay?" I examined the driveway and saw a large farmhouse surrounded by dense forest. Beside it was a toolshed, which I figured we could sleep there. It would probably be too dangerous to search the house, especially with no light.

"Come on," I said as I pulled her along, "This way."

We walked up the drive and approached the toolshed. It wasn't locked, so I put my ear up against the door. I listed carefully, and heard nothing rattling around in there.

"Is it safe?"

"I think so."

I opened the door, and allowed Bonnie inside.

It smelled weird inside the shed, like mildew almost, and damp. The floor was dirt, but it was dry for the most part, so I searched around and layed down an old rug for us to sleep on.

"it stinks in here," Bonnie said, wiping her nostrils.

"It's alright," I told her, "It will work for now. Besides, it's only for tonight."

She nodded, but I could barely see her in the darkness. She laid down first, and I laid down beside her. She tried to fool me into thinking she was asleep by staying quiet. Once I closed my eyes and stopped stirring, however, Bonnie began to cry silently and she put her arm around me

"I miss Mommy," she sobbed.

I listened to my sister cry until I fell asleep, and tried to dream of what we were going to do now.

Chapter Two

"Welcome to the Pearson Residence"

I didn't sleep as much as I would have liked to. I awoke to the sound of birds chirping, and the shadow of a tree branch cast on the door of the shed. I could hear the wind and looked over at Bonnie. She was still sleeping, exhausted from yesterday. We had to have been at least three miles away from the prison by now. My head hurt, and my stomach ached, but other than that I was in pretty good shape. I sat up and looked around. The shed didn't have much to offer, the contents of it was mainly just clutter. Carboard boxes stacked with junk inside them were on shelves, there was a water hose to my right and tools behind me. I got to my feet and walked over to the asortment of garden and hardware tools. There were wrenches, a circular saw, and a hammer. I took the hammer and held it in my hand. I had a weapon now.

I shook Bonnie awake.

"What is it?" She asked as she rubbed her eyes with her fists.

"I'm going to check the house."

"No!" She said, waking up instantly, sitting up to look me in the eyes.

"Bonnie, I'm going to see if there's any food or anything we could use in there."

"Please don't leave me!"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me, okay?"

I put my hand on her shoulder to reassure her that I would be back, "I'll be just fine, sweetheart."

She nodded hesitantly.

"No matter what," I said as I opened the shed door, "Don't come out of the shed until I tell you to, got it?"

Bonnie nodded, "Promise you'll be back?"


I closed the door as I walked out into broad daylight. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of morning, the shed had blocked some of the sunlight and now my eyes were all jacked-up. After that, I examined the farmhouse. It was a two-story building, its paint only beginning to fade, with a wooden porch and shade tree in front of it. I walked up the porch steps and approached the front door, my boots making loud thuds on the wood as I walked. As I stood in front of the door, I wondered if there would be any people inside, or worse, walkers. I held the hammer firmly in my hand, and reached for the door handle. I checked to see if it was locked, and it wasn't.

The door opened silently, which I thought was a blessing. I propped it against the wall and looked inside. I had come into a living room. A large, plasma television was on an entertainment center, a couch facing it. Pictures lined the walls of laughing children and smiling adults. It looked as though a young family had lived here. The father was tall, probably about six foot, with brown hair and hazel eyes. The mother and oldest daughter had the same, beautiful blonde hair as Bonnie. The youngest daughter was a brunette like me, with brown eyes, and looked about seven.  A sign is next to a large family portrait, stating: "The Pearsons, John, Amanda and their two beautiful girls, Emily and Bridgette'". I kind of feel bad for breaking into the Pearsons' home, but I don't even know if they're alive.

I explore the house. There isn't much to it, it looks bigger from the outside. The main level has all its doors open, and no walkers inside. Then, I head upstairs. Again, all its doors are open, except for one. I approach the door as quiet as I can with my boots thumping against the floor. I see a note taped to the door. It reads:

"Please do what I was unable to do. -John Pearson"

I open the door and can smell the stench instantly. It smells of death and decay inside the room. There are three bodies, all female, lying on a bed with a bullet hole in their heads. Flies swarm the bodies, I cover my mouth and try not to vomit. Then, the walker jumps out from behind a corner and pounces on me. I react swiftly and throw it off of me. The force throws the walker to the ground in the hallway. I then proceed to cave its face in with the hammer. I hit it repeatedly, until there's nothing left of its face but gooey brain matter and a large hole. I push the body into the room with the others, and then close the door. I lock it.

I return to Bonnie after that.

"Can we go in?" She asks when I return.

"Yeah, it's safe now."

She notices the walker blood on my hand and arm.

"Don't worry about it, I didn't get bit," I tell her.

She nods and follows me back to the house. When we're inside, I sit her down on the couch in the living room and head into the kitchen to scavenge for some food. I'm lucky enough to find a can of tomato soup and a can opener, and bring it over to share with her.

"I don't like tomato," Bonnie said.

"It's what we have, okay?"

She looks at me and nods.