Fear The Walking Dead-fanfiction and review

Title: The Dead Zone
Category: TV Shows » Fear the Walking Dead

Rated pg-18

Season 1 Episode 4-“Not Fade Away” 

There were lights in the dead zone. Someone was signalling for help. A one-shot told from the perspective of the last living human in the dead zone.


Help! Help! Help! ALIVE INSIDE!

It had been 9 days since the power failed and the military arrived.

For nine days, she remained in her apartment building. Alone. Every one else had left when the dead came back to life.
Well it was better to say, everyone had been forced out. Either that, or they were shot in the streets.
Even in their homes.

They came to help right? Those walking dead were everywhere, and they only came to help. So why did they start shooting people who weren’t even sick?! And one guy they just left him in the street, to get attacked by at least 40 of those things. The National Guard ran from house to house, and they were very careful to move around and avoid this poor guy. while he got horribly mauled.
It was as if they left him to die slowly, as a distraction.
I can still hear his screams…

On the final day, she was starving. There was no food left, and she was down to her last bottle of water.
No help was coming.
She was thin, and emaciated, and she figured her mind was starting to go. Whether it was from starvation, or from the constant terror of this new world, she didn’t know, and didn’t really care. After”adopting” a companion to talk with… a stuffed horse she called Mr. Pickles… and after she lost him when he tumbled out of her apartment window, after which, she cried over the loss for a full hour, she had finally decided enough was enough. She HAD to get out of here! She needed food. She needed people!

It took her a few moments to shatter the mirror in the bathroom, and another few moments to break down the shards enough so she wouldn’t cut herself. Then she had to wait for the sun to be just right.

“Please someone help me,” she wept, as she held the shard up to the light, tilting it every which way.

One minute passed… two, three four…

And someone signaled back! It wasn’t a signal from the National Guard. The binoculars she found told her it was coming from some person on a rooftop!

Run! Go! Outside! They see me! I’m still alive! PLEASE HELP ME!

She took some more water, but found herself too exhausted to continue, and laied down on the floor…

When she awoke it was dawn the next day.

Well, crap!

Someone else was out there again, and signaling! It was too early and the position of the sun was not right. It must have been by flashlight. She signaled back with her own flashlight.

This is great and all but when are they coming to give me a goddamn donut!? Maybe some paltry, meaningless words of hope?

On her final day, her prayers were answered.
There was someone alive out there. There was some woman, stumbling around, shocked and dazed, amid the chaos of rotting stinking corpses.

I could use some Febreeze too. I’m out! Ok, I want a big donut, some company, and Febreeze!

She took the bottle of water and left the apartment, racing down the stairs and out of the building.

Good God, I am so happy to see you! Do you got a donut lady?! Thank you for coming to save me! I waited so long, and prayed to every deity I could think of. Here, have a diamond bracelet; I found it from scavenging. Maybe it will come back in style one day. Maybe everything will come back in style one day… because you saw me and you came looking for me and gave me hope! Cos here I am and here you are and THANK GOD YOU CAME FOR ME!

“Oh, yuk. Oh fucking hell!” she yelped as she ran from the apartment building and around the corner. Outside, the smell of dead people hung heavy in the air. It was truly a stench from hell, and it made her head spin. It was a struggle to stay on her feet. But she was almost there, and she pushed herself to go on.

“Damn… damn, damn!”
Up the street and moving in fast, were several soldiers. They were followed by an armored personnel carrier.

She began to lift her hands, trying to signal the woman who came to save her. But the soldiers and and their vehicles were getting closer. With a sob, she ran back to the apartment.

She was crying now, as she rushed to the back room and hid herself under the bed.

It got dark. It got cold. It got lonely.
She sat by the window, watching some lights come on in the other neighborhood. She wished she could be there, with a plate of donuts, and the friendly company of other survivors.

“I bet it smells better over there!”

The water was gone now. She knew that she would have to go back out soon and find more, and she knew that it was too dark. There was nothing to do now, but get a blanket for the cold, and maybe picture in her mind, that she had caught up with the woman, who then rescued her from this dreadful place. The woman took her home, and gave her food and warmth and hope.
It was a warm, happy thought.

“Up here. Don’t think we checked this building. It wasn’t marked.”
“Easy to miss. Oh, God! Moyers is gonna be furious! Hey is there any way we can get him locked up in that stadium?”
“Ha. You are so funny. Ha-ho!”

Maybe I just need to sleep…

It was more lights that caught her attention. They were all centered around the area where the signals came from. But they went as quickly as they came, and the safe zone was dark again.

Don’t stop trying… please, I am alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore! Please help me, I’m still alive!

“Holy shit!”

She finally took notice and turned her head. Standing a few feet away were three soldiers. They shined flashlights on her, then turned them off.
“Please help me,” she begged in a small, tired voice.

“I’m sorry. Really. I’m just following orders.” the soldier said.

And on her final night, there room lit up with the flashes of muzzle-fire.
“Oh, G- ” she began. There was gunfire, loud and deafening, and something hard and heavy and violent pounded into her chest. She sensed something wet. She was pushed back against the wall, her hands flailing about. The pain was tremendous and seemed to envelop her whole body.

The pain diminished quickly then. She felt herself tumbling to the floor.
She tried to breath and found it impossible. But it didn’t matter, There was a brief and welcome sensation of euphoria. Then there was nothing.



Bonus Episode/Series review-Rated pg-18

“We’re From the Government and We’re Here To Help You!”

Ok, so they’re not. In the next episode it is revealed the National Guard plans to flee Los Angeles, but not before exterminating everyone, whether alive or dead or undead.

First, we have Chris Manawa, long-dead, but could have been a Little Negan, seeing how he turned bad in season 2, but was shot dead, by a so-called friend.

Then we got Travis Manawa, his idealistic, pacifist father, who believes this will blow over, only to have his hopes shattered in the closing moments of this episode.

He’s dead, too.


Nick Clark, drug addict and brother of Alicia and child of Madison. We all hated him in season 1, and we all cried bitter tears, when after 2 seasons spent redeeming himself, only to be killed in season 4.

Just look at the flowers!

Lt. Moyers. A complete dick. He’s on a power trip!
Yep he’s dead too!

Madison Clark, also dead. What the hell??? This is more emotionally grueling than “Game Of Thrones”!

Still with us, is Alicia Clark, which is truly fucking amazing considering she gave herself a tattoo that should have resulted in death from blood poisoning!

What the fuck, Alicia, that can’t be sanitary!

(from season 4)And all the chicks and some of the guys have long hair. Long hair in a zombie apocalypse, does not a long life make!!!


Whoever they were. but combined with the voice-over Susan Tran’s suicide note, along with the audio(“The Owl, by I Love You, But I’ve Chosen Darkness by), it was such a chilling scene, it stayed on my mind for 2 weeks before i finally wrote my fanfiction.


I like Fear The Walking Dead more than The Walking Dead, and I look forward to the second half of season 4. The survivors are going to face a hurricane that creates a walker-nado. Should be exciting! In fact, I know it will cause I too, have battled the living dead under hurricane conditions.
Left 4 Dead is so cool!

Three Types of Storytelling:Character, Plot, Action/Spectacle
So why do they keep killing all the great characters? Well, “Fear The Walking Dead” is more of a story/plot driven show, with enough character plot to keep you going to the next big plot.
That’s my take on it. It’s always been mostly plot-driven, with room to create characters that make us sad when they are killed off!!

And one more thing from the ep. A cameo!




(fear the walking dead belongs to amc, robert kirkman, and anyone else who can prove it)

Author: Kristine


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