One year and a half since the outbreak.

Mika had lost so much already. Her mommy, her daddy… and now, after months of safety with Rick’s group at the prison… tragedy had struck once again. The Governor had attacked you, mowed down your fences with a tank and the prison had been overrun. He’s killed Hershel too, in front of all of you. Then, bloodshed ensued. Hurt and scared, your group separated. Everyone was in a hurry, Walkers in every direction, screaming and gunshots drowning out your own screams.

How much terror could a little girl take? Mika had lost sight of her big sister Lizzie in the crossfire, so she did what Tyreese and Carol had taught her; run. And run, Mika did. She ran around the destroyed prison in panic, all alone… until someone snatched her hand. The little girl found herself in your arms, being carried away from the gunshots. In a hurry, you grabbed a bag and supplies at hand. Within seconds you carried the duffel bag on one shoulder, Mika in your arms. You keep her little head tucked against your shoulder, not wanting her to inhale the smoke, or see the terrors around you. Without sight of Rick or the others… you ran. You ran and ran until the gunshots and chaos grew distant. Until your feet hurt and Mika’s soft sobs were all you could hear, muffled against your shirt.

Your priority now? Mika and finding a safe place before sundown.