≻───── ⋆ELEVEN⋆ ─────≺

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 into a tight ponytail to keep it from blowing into my face from where I sat in the truck bed. We passed fields, yellow and moving softly from the breeze. It looked like old corn, wheat potentially, or just old weeds overgrown since all the farmers were now trying a different product: flesh.

It wasn't until we slowed to turn onto a different road did I begin to see the high school. Clutching the side of the truck bed, I rose up on my knees to look. The wind blew harshly into my face and I had to turn my head to avoid the air hitting my eyes directly. The high school rose up on a small hill with destruction surrounding it.

When I say destruction, I mean it entirely as ruination and decay. Cars parked in the grass, old ambulances left with their doors open, police cars lined up side by side in the parking lot. I could see the old FEMA tents but even though they're made to withstand hurricanes and tornadoes, they looked just as bad as the cars. Even the rain couldn't wash away the blood splatter, not entirely at least.

Otis slowed the truck down and I pulled my gun from my holster, loading it with new ammunition before tucking it back against my waist. I began to tighten everything again from my ponytail to my backpack and to my belt with my little badge hooked on for dear life. The area was eerily quiet once the car turned off and we were in park. From a distance, I could hear the rustle of trees and cicadas but nothing more to bring this place to life.

It only meant the walkers were all inside, waiting, stumbling in silence.

Shane and Otis got out of the car, careful to close the doors. I handed them their bags and Shane held out an arm, helping me down. I glanced around, the grass was soft under my feet and there was a stench in the air, no doubt coming from the school and the few bodies left lying about.

"We need a game plan," I muttered in a low voice, careful not to speak up any louder. "If we get in there and there's a herd, we retreat. We can draw them out if needed but I advise finding a new entrance and exit." I narrowed my eyes, we were back enough aways that I couldn't exactly see past the rows of cars into the main parking lot left open for the FEMA tents and medical trailers but I could still see the movement, the heads bobbling. "Our best bet is to stay low between the cars, see if we can draw the herd a certain direction once we locate where we need to be."

Shane nodded, strapping his bag across his shoulders. "What exactly we lookin' for, Otis?"

"Big mobile medical trailer," he told us, his voice equally as low and gravelly as ours. "Should be right along the edge of the lot."

I crept forward, crouching low to keep myself out of the walkers direct eye-line before motioning for them to follow. I looked closely, narrowing my eyes through the cars when I spotted the dark navy trailer by the fencing. Walkers moved throughout the area and if I could give a guesstimate of how many there were, I'd say thirty of them wandering and that didn't even amount to how many could be inside the school or even further down the hillside where we couldn't see.

"I got an idea," whispered Shane, pulling on the end of my ponytail to get my attention. I looked back and he motioned for me to follow him. "We got flares in the trunk of our squad cars," he told me and I understood the picture he was now painting.

He moved in a crouch to the side of one of the police cars, trying to door handle slowly and we marveled in the fact that it was still unlocked. He got inside as Otis and I stood back by the trunk and waited. I heard a soft pop and the trunk opened, which I reached out to grab to keep it from making any more noises as it flung open.

Shane got back to us, slightly out of breath from either fear or excitement that it worked and reached into the trunk. He pulled out two flares and motioned for me to go to the other cars next to ours which I did without hesitation. 

In the end, we had about eight flares. We waited near the car until it got just slightly more dark out before we set them off. Shane and Otis took turns throwing them across the lot, as far away from the medical trailer as possible. They looked like red balls of fire floating through the air before landing amongst the loose paper and garbage in the parking lot.

The walkers were drawn to it not just by its soft sizzling sound but from the light it gave off. It would be a good enough distraction for about five or so minutes. Amongst the dead were civilians, some even young children which I suspected came from the high school or the neighboring homes on the opposite side of the lot we were in now, and members of the army who'd died thinking they were saving lives.

We tore off down the side of the lot, keeping close to the trailer until we reached the steps and I was surprised at how silent we were jumping up them and to the metal platform as Otis threw the door open and shut it silently behind us.

I threw my bag off my shoulder after unlatching it from my chest. I tore open the biggest pouch and went scouring down the narrow aisle, looking through the shelves. The army had been smart enough to have this well stocked, even though it hadn't done much good. Nothing could cure a bite, not like they all had hoped.

Shane motioned to the tanks on one of the top shelves and whispered, "This it?" He had his teeth clamped around a flashlight and Otis nodded and said, "Yeah, get three."

Before Shane could start tossing them in his bag, I snatched up the few clothes I had in my pack and held them out for him. "So they don't clank as loudly," I muttered, fearing that if we had to run or even walk, those tanks would rattle loudly.

I pulled drapes and sheets, still in their protective plastic coverings, and stuffed them quickly away. I also made sure to grab a few sterile needle packages, tubes, and an extra incubator after watching Otis grab one. I had a feeling, even if we somehow got out of here unscathed and alive for the most part, these things would come in handy. I even stopped by one of the locked carts closer to the door and pulled on the latch, surprised to find it open. 

I pulled a few bottles of generic painkillers out and even a few antibiotic ointments. When I had my bag zipped and back across my shoulders, Shane opened the door and a fear settled deeply within my gut, one that I didn't necessarily like all that much.

The walkers had returned to our side of the lot and they turned at the sound of the door opening. Shane, with one hand on his rifle, reached out and took me by the arm and dragged me to the side, snarling out an agitated, "Goddamn it!"

We took off running down the fence line and towards the school's main doors. We bounded up a small flight of concrete stairs before having to stutter step as walkers came running out from the right side of the fork in the path. I pulled my ax from my waistband as a walker got to close to Shane and I swung the blade up, chipping off a hunk of its face and sending it stumbling back.

Shane motioned for me and Otis to follow and we continued to run. The fence was narrow but it was easy for us to sprint down the length of the sidewalk, rounding our next corner tightly and coming upon the entrance to the building. I went to them instantly and tried them, hissing out, "It's locked!"

"Come on," snapped Shane, shaking his head and pivoting to run forward when the sound of groaning and harsh moans stopped him. I looked over my shoulder and watched walkers coming spilling out from the fence row and when I turned to look back at the way we came, walkers were charging.

We were trapped in the middle.

"Move!" said Shane, raising his gun and he fired, breaking the glass on both doors. 

Racing forward, we got through and Shane pulled on the metal gate, closing it swiftly then locking it into place. He pulled me against him, shuddering and panting as we pressed outselves as far from the gate and against the brick wall as possible.

Their hands stuck easily through the bars but it kept them back at least a foot away from us. I sheathed my ax and pulled out Daryl's knife, wriggling out of Shane's grip. I avoided walker's arms and stabbed through the mesh as the walkers pressed their faces in the metal. The knife went in roughly but the walker sagged, stopping the others from reaching through to us, but even with a pair of limp arms out of our reach, that was good enough for me. I went to stab at another but Shane pulled me back by the hips.

It was strange, feeling him pressing up against me, his hands steady against my sides and his fingers squeezing just softly to keep me close and tethered.

"This way," he grunted over the growls. 

He led me and Otis to the right, pushing out into the hallway. We stumbled and his hands left me to grip for me to race ahead. It seemed, for once, Shane knew I was better than him at something. I took off, careful to round each hallway somewhat slower than what my normal pace was to keep out of reach from any walkers once I heard the gate break behind me and the boys.

The sound of echoing feet and crazed growling followed us down the halls. We passed walls of lockers and open classroom doors but the few we passed that were closed, I could see through the window just briefly of walkers roaming in stunted circles, unable to free themselves and join the hunt.

I only stopped when I came upon the only exit in this part of the building. Shane, seconds behind me, stumbled into me when he saw what I did.

"Which way?" I grunted, looking away from the chain locked doors and back at him. 

"Gym," panted Otis, catching up to us. "We can get up on the bleachers. This way."

Standing atop the bleachers wasn't our best idea because we were surrounded from below in an instant but it did give Otis a chance to catch his breath and for me and Shane to come up with a game plan. 

The walkers below us on the basketball court banged their hands against the bleachers, trying desperately to reach up and grab us. It was strange, looking down upon their faces and seeing them with their open mouths, chomping and chewing at the air just hoping for a bite. There were old cots lining the gym floor, some overturned and splattered with what I knew was entrails and gore. Against one side of the room were old rolled up blue matts and I wondered what walkers lay hidden wrapped inside of those.

Shane raised his flashlight, pointing to our left where there was a drop off from the bleachers and concrete stairs leading  to the top of the 'away team' bleachers. The light reflected against a good size window.

"Those windows, what's on the other side?" he asked.

"About a twenty-foot drop with nothing to catch you, maybe some bushes," said Otis, "then the athletic field."

"We just need enough time," said Shane, shuffling sideways against the bleachers. "We got to get up there, get them open, and get out."

"Yeah but one problem," I said with a grunt as I kept my back against the wall as best as I could to avoid the hands threatening to grab at my toes. 

Otis nodded, reading my mind. "I won't be able to squeeze through that–"

"Opening might even be too small for your shoulders, too, Shane," I told him, looking at both men. 

"We lay down some fire to get a head start," said Otis with a firm nod of his head, his light shining over the mauled and decaying faces. The rot was heavy in the room, the air warm and thick with it. "You two stay here. I hop down and draw them away. That gives y'all the chance to get up the bleachers and out a window."

"But what about you?" I spat. "We can't just leave you here–"

"Locker room," he said, pointing across the room towards a dark hall leading down into some unknown depths, "down those steps."

Shane scowled. "Looks like a good way to get trapped."

"It's got windows too, and more my size." He lowered his light. "I get out through one, I double back, we meet up out on the field." He pulled his backpack off and handed it to Shane who threw it over his shoulder.

"You're one crazy son of a bitch, ain't you?" There was a smile on his face.

"I'm just tryin' to do right by that boy."

"Enough chit-chat," I snarled. "We need to move."

Shane gripped his rifle tighter and fixed his hold on his bag and Otis's before saying, "You take three shots and you go. After that I fire. I'll lay down a cover for you. I'll get you a lead."

"I can go with you–" I started towards Otis but he shook his head and Shane was growling out behind me, "No, you're with me."

"Then let's go," said Otis, holding up his rifle in both hands and inching towards the drop off we'd all have to jump down. 

He raised his rifle and sent three shots down, taking out three walkers. They fell like dominos against the floor, heavy but not loud enough to echo over the loud moans. Otis went to the edge quickly and jumped, landing roughly on his feet and tumbling to the ground. In an instant, a walker from under one of the cots lining the floor came crawling out, attaching itself to one of his boots.

Stupidly, Otis began to cry out in a panicked wail. He tried to kick the walker off his leg but he dragged it further out as he squirmed. Shane raised his rifle, taking careful aim before firing a shot through the walkers weak skull. It gave Otis the chance to stand, shaking off the walker's hands clinging to his boot before taking off towards the locker room as Shane fired into the walkers tailing him the closest. He got three of them down before Otis disappeared down the steps and I was racing the other way with Shane on my ass. 

I jumped down carefully, making sure to bend my knees to absorb the landing the best I could before racing up the stairs towards the top of the bleachers. Shane did the same behind me, landing heavier thanks to the extra weight of Otis's bag on his shoulder.

Shane slammed the butt of his rifle into the window pane, shattering the glass. As he knocked the shards aside for us to slip through, I covered his ass. With my ax tightly in both my hands, I watched a pair of walkers lumber up the stairs after us.

"You go through–" Shane begun to say but I shook my head. 

"Get the bags out and then yourself," I snapped as the walkers got closer, "and I'll be right behind you." I gave him a smirk before adding, "Don't want to jump without someone there to catch me."

Shane gave me a nod before shoving his bags through and then himself. It was by the time he was through the window that I was swinging my ax at the closest walker and slamming my boot into the chest of the other, sending it fall over the edge of the bleachers and onto the floor. My ax struck through the top of the walker's head and it toppled to the side, giving me enough time to anchor my boot into its side and yank my blade free.

I heard cursing from outside the window and I hurried over, pushing my legs through first and catching my hands carefully on the side so I could lower myself the best I could. I glanced back towards the gym, noticing that majority of the herd had followed Otis but some still lingered, as if trying to decide who would be the better meal: Otis or me. 

"Come on," grunted Shane from below and I looked down, pressing my boots against the brick wall to give myself a better grip. It was far below but Shane was standing, rather weakly with majority of his weight on one leg, but his arms were up and he was ushering me down. "I got you."

I decided to trust him.

I let go of the window ledge and let myself drop but my feet didn't even truly touch the ground. After a falling feeling that left my stomach flipping for a good painful second, my body slammed into Shane's and he stumbled back until we were both on the ground, lying pitifully in the grass. His arms were tight around me, his hands splayed against either sides of my waist and as he sat up with a grimace, he looked down at me with wild eyes.

"Fucked up my ankle," he said in between clenched teeth, "when I jumped down."

I sat up as he crawled to grab his bags from the bushes. "Can you walk?"

He nodded but winced as he stood, putting pressure down on his foot. "It's gonna be difficult."

I stood, pulling a leaf from my hair. "Then you better pray we're closer to the car than we think." As he slung the bags over his shoulder, I moved to grab one but he dodged my advance, shaking his head.

"You need to be able to run," he muttered with a firm shake of his head. "You don't need this extra weight." 

Moving with a solid limp, we began our stretch towards the fence line that would take us back to the car. There were fields straight out from the window but I knew if we went that direction, there was a good chance we'd never make it back to the car in time and we were using borrowed time already. Who knew how much Carl had left in him back at the farm? A sickening feeling stretched inside my gut thinking that maybe we were already too late but Shane's rifle going off stopped me dead in my tracks.

I slapped a hand across his shoulder and he gave me a dark look before I held up my ax and snarled, "Save your goddamn bullets."

We took a short flight of stairs up to the main field and I surveyed our landscape before moving forward. We were at the football stadium and the fence took care of majority of the walkers on the other side but there were a few stragglers on our side that turned when we approached.

I put my hand out towards Shane, stopping him from taking his shot at the nearest walker for me to run up and slam my ax into its face. Its skin was hanging down from his chin, like something had tried to kill it once before but failed. This time, though, the kill struck. With a heavy swing, I sliced through the top of its skull and it fell without a fight.

From my left, I saw three walkers begin their quick approach. Shane stumbled, turning his back on the walkers on the fence to raise his rifle as I side stepped away from him to lure at least one away. The walkers at the fence charged at Shane, the metal groaning and clanging with their feverish hands and swinging arms. I got the attention of one of the walkers and it turned its head towards me, giving me enough of a chance to slam my ax into the top of its head and kick back the second who'd begun to turn my way. 

A shot went off and when I looked at Shane, ready to curse at him, his mouth was slightly agape and awe was spread over his features. 

Pulling my ax free and slamming it down into the next walker without so much of a glance towards it, I saw Otis standing a few feet away with his rifle raised and a slight grin on his face. Shane stumbled forward, pulling the bag from his shoulder and passing it off to Otis with a grunt.

"Man," he breathed with a shake of his head, "I thought we lost you."

"That was my last rifle round," said Otis in return and I shook my head at both of them.

"Mine too," said Shane.

"We shouldn't be using our guns unless we have too," I snapped, patting mine at my side. "I got a full cartridge left and I'm not gonna use it unless completely necessary."

"But–"

"Your shots were necessary but some?" I glared at Shane and he rolled his eyes. "You need a knife, that's all."

We kept moving along the fence line of the stadium, heading down long stairs that led to the parking lot on the either side. When we got down, Otis stumbled back into the fence, panting. Shane did the same, sagging against the metal to relieve the pain in his ankle. He was lucky he had a sturdy boot to help support his injury but walking so much on it like he was now, it wasn't going to help in the long run once he actually needed to run.

"Just let me catch my breath," said Otis, heaving in a great bout of air through his open mouth.

I took that moment to stretch my legs. My calves were tight from my run this morning to the farm and no doubt most of it was from adrenaline pumping but with majority of it gone now that I was fueled by reality alone, my legs ached just slightly.

Shane groaned, shaking his head even though he, too, was out of breath. "Come on."

The fence groaned and shook, Shane shoving himself away from the wall of walkers now pressing themselves tightly against the metal. Otis took Shane by the arm, wrapping it around his neck to allow the other man to hop on one foot comfortably as they hobbled away. I followed after, taking just a moment to study the fencing. If more walkers pushed up against it, it would surely fall. I just hoped that didn't happen anytime soon while were here.

We rounded the side of the fence, the walkers trying to follow us but couldn't get far. They were stuck within the field and we were trapped near the bleachers and parking lot. All we had to do was keep going forward until we got far enough out of sight to double back for the truck. It seemed easy enough but that was before Shane fucked up his ankle and before he and Otis used the last of their rifle ammunition. 

Up ahead of me, Shane fell. His knees buckled like breaking pasta and he hit the concrete, taking Otis down with him. I quickened my pace, bending down to help them sit up. 

"We just got to get to the street," moaned Otis, "then we double back to the truck."

"Look," said Shane in a weak voice as he sat up, "we ain't gonna make it, okay?"

"Got to try, man."

"You gotta take these bags," said Shane as Otis got to his feet. "And you gonna leave me behind–"

"I ain't leaving you behind!"

I slapped Shane on the back of the head and he cursed, a hand going up to protect himself as I glared down at him. "Quit the pathetic shit right now," I snarled. "We don't have time to go back and forth about whether or not we're going to live because for god's sake we are."

He cursed again, slamming a hand down on the cement before getting to his knees. "How many rounds you got left?" 

Otis pulled Rick's gun from his holster. "Four. You?"

Shane scowled. "Five and one in the pipe."

"Good," I spat, "fucking perfect."

"It's not like we got any other ways to kill those fuckers!" snapped Shane, turning on me but I stopped him when the sound of roaring echoed behind us.

I turned quickly, watching the staggering herd emerge from the darkness where I thought we'd left them. It was a good size pack of them all swaying and moving at a speed I hadn't thought they'd be capable of. I knew they could move but not this quickly.

I pulled my gun from my waistband as I clutched my ax with my other hand. We needed a good plan and Shane limping and Otis's slow pace was not going to get us anywhere. When the men began to move again, forcing themselves forward, I ran through my options as I followed them.

If we went together, we'd need a distraction. There was no way in hell we'd get to the street before the herd caught up to us. Shane and Otis needed a good head start and there was only one good solution staring me dead in the eyes. 

I raced up to Shane, getting between the men to quickly explain what stupid thing I was about to do. 

"Y'all keep going and don't stop," I snapped to them as I back pedaled. "I'm going to draw as many as I can away so don't shoot any unless completely necessary, okay?"

"Sam, what–"

"If I don't make it back to the truck when you do, go without me."

Shane was shaking his head, reaching out and taking me by the shoulder but I dodged his reach. "You can't be serious, I ain't leavin' without you!"

"I'm going to lead the herd away from you," I snarled, "and you're going to get to the truck in one piece and them get inside that damn truck and not look back. You get these supplies to Carl or so help me God, Shane, I will hurt you–"

"I can't leave you out here!" he countered as Otis shook his head.

"It's your best chance."

"Doesn't mean shit if you're not there with us."

"Save Carl," I whispered, meeting his eye and hoping he saw that I was serious. It would be okay, I knew it would. "Don't worry about me."

"Sam–" Otis started but I shook my head.

"Don't come back for me, not until Carl is safe." I stopped moving, standing still and raising my gun in the air. I looked back only to see the men staring back but I shouted, "Go! Fuckin' go!" 

Shane gave me a firm nod and took Otis by the shoulder and the pair hobbled away. I turned back to the herd, raising my gun at the herd and taking my first shot of the night. My bullet hit perfect, striking the closest walker in the forehead, sending him toppling backwards. Once it was down, I darted to my left and back towards the parking lot filled with old school buses closest to the medical trailer.

I made sure to turn and fire off my shoulder, my accuracy not as ideal with this angle but getting the walkers attentions were the only thing that mattered. The herd began to shift, turning to follow me as I continued to fire pointless shots which hurt me to make. I needed to conserve ammunition, not fire with no true meaning.

Success meant death. Success meant walkers on the ground, unable to bite and crawl.

I dodged around a school bus lying on its side and I didn't get the chance to truly wonder how it got overturned and how many walkers must've pushed up against one side, rocking it back and forth with the screaming children inside. 

There was a single gunshot somewhere off but the walkers were still too attracted to me to care. Pushing my boots into the cement and pumping my arms was easy and drawing the herd further and further away was even easier. I made good bait.

Coming back around the school, I was able to see what I was truly dealing with on either sides. Walkers were still mulling about the parking lot further up ahead but I wasn't going to make it over there with the amount of walkers still tailing me.

I fired another shot into the herd and ducked behind a row of cars. 

If I had known there was going to be a walker lying in wait, I wouldn't have chosen this row to hunker down in but nothing ever did seem to go right with me. It had long stringy hair and was wearing overalls that was hanging loosely from one strap. I could see curly chest hair peaking out from behind his denim but that wasn't what I was focusing on. No, it was the blackened teeth with old tendons still stuck between his crooked fangs. 

I was forced to push it back with my hands, watching out for its long arms and open jaw as it slammed to the ground. I quickly climbed atop it, slamming my ax into its skull, feeling its warm blood come splattering up against my hands and an awful thought occurred to me.

I tore open the walkers dirty shirt and paid no attention to the awful tattoos sprawled against its chest and was just happy I was going to tear it to shreds because nobody liked a racist. I ignored how disgusting it was as I dipped my hands into the walkers sunken chest cavity and imagined that it was mud, only swampy thick slush, as I coated the sleeves of my flannel and my neck and chest with rot.

I bit back my gag and swallowed my bile as I painted it across my face, careful to keep it far from any of my orifices. I didn't need to accidentally become infected because I got a drop in my eye. When my clothes were heartily covered, I stood slowly and watched as the herd shuffled past. 

They gave me no second look as they stumbled on, searching for where the I'd supposedly gone. I holstered my gun and slipped into the herd, keeping my pace slow to blend in and make my way through the parking lot. 

To be honest, I had a secret agenda. 

I wanted to get back to the medical trailer. There were good medications in the cart inside and if I had more time to look through them, I could identify the antibiotics and the painkillers. I had been nearly certain I'd seen morphine inside, along with I.V. bags filled with fluids. 

Lost in thought, I bumped into the bony shoulder of a walker beside me, forcing her to veer off to the side with a growl from a gummy mouth. But I smelled too much like them for the others to pay notice. I was just as filthy, if not more disgusting. I had a few days worth of sweat coated against my skin under the coagulated blood. There was dirt streaked across my pants and boots, coated underneath my fingernails with Carl's blood.

This was all for him. I was huddled against walkers for him.

Would you have done this for Conner? Yes. Yes. A thousand times over.

I see his face in my head as I maneuver myself carefully words the medical trailer. I feel blood and sweat drip off my chin, spreading down my neck and getting lost in my shirt but I still see his face. 

He is my angel in a sea of monsters. My vision of hope.

"Do you remember when you were just kid?" I asked him, holding him tightly in my arms on the back porch as dishes shattered and broke inside. "And we went on that trip to the aquarium? Just you and me?"

He nodded, his hands so much smaller than mine. He clutches at my knees where I bounce him. He's only ten but I can't help but hold him like he's still a baby, like he's still mine.

"Just think of there," I whispered as his fingers enclosed around one of my own to pull it in his own joke. I make a farting noise against his cheek and he laughs. He doesn't squeal and squirm like he used to, he's older now.

He's practically a teenager, he liked to tell me.

"Can we go there again?" he asked as John's booming voice gets a little too close to the kitchen window. "I didn't get to pet the stingrays."

"Of course," I tell him, because he doesn't know we can't afford another trip like that. Not until I've found a proper job. 

"Can he come with us, too?" he asked, referring to Him. Our personal savior.

I nodded again, nuzzling the side of his face. 

He was so young. Nine years younger than me during that time when I was nearing a daring twenty-four. I didn't have a good job, mostly just waitressing during the day and working at the gas station at night until exhaustion took over. I would visit him on the weekends, take him out, but that one had been bad.

He'd been sporting an ugly bruise on his chin and John said he got it falling off his bike but Conner gave me a look. A knowing look, because he couldn't lie to me and I knew all too well. 

A walker bumped into me and I moved quicker, getting away from the herd. Walking up the metal stairs to the door of the trailer, I slipped inside and let it close behind me as naturally as I could. Whipping out my flashlight, I bent down in front of the cabinet and looked over my options. 

There were small bottles of morphine, oxys (generic), an I.V. bag of fluids, and pills with long names I couldn't remember exactly what they were used for. I dropped it all inside my bag and waited a moment to catch my breath. 

I searched the shelves once more, pulling down rolls of gauze and surgical tape and bandages. My bag was getting heavy but I didn't care. These were all things we would need in the long run. There were old tourniquets and E.M.T. shears which I took. 

Once I knew I had all I could carry and leaving some supplies for whatever unlucky soul had to wander this way, I left the trailer and headed back out into the herd. The farm would be five miles out from where I was so I needed a game plan because I knew the truck would be gone.

I crouched down by the police cars, wondering how far I could get if I pushed one away without the walkers noticing. I could hot-wire it but even then, I didn't know if they would have gas or working engines. 

I tried it anyway. 

I shifted gears in one of the cruisers, putting it into neutral before jumping out to push from the front. Cars were heavier than they looked and I had to give it a mighty hard shove to even feel it rock. But with enough force, it was able to groan and shift over the grass but not before momentum took it down the small hill and into a nearby ambulance.

The sound crunched and wailed, metal on metal, and the walkers turned. They were more intelligent than I'd give them credit for, even after Jenner practically told us there was nothing in there besides the primal urge to feast. But they regarded the police car and the ambulance with no true interesting. It was only metal on metal, there was nothing human about it.

A few straggled, uninterested in wandering in circles, came to inspect. Their bodies pressing up against the car, their limbs batting the side. 

I took them out with an easy slash of my ax. I hadn't realized how much blood spewed from them when you killed one. It sloshed and spilled, flying through the air in an arc with my weapon. 

Once they were truly dead, I dragged their bodies away from the car so I could drive it easily without running a few over. I piled them up on the edge of the parking lot and the walkers smelled freshly spilled blood. 

Jogging back to the cruiser, I got inside and quickly worked with the wires. These cars were different and a part of me felt like a true criminal trying to start one because hey, it was a cop car, going for a joyride in one was not the best idea. 

I made sure to pop the hood, inspecting the wires and pulling the siren one first just in case. I didn't need a herd trailing after me during my grand escape. One that was done, I got behind the wheel and let the car rumble to life with the soft flick of wires rubbing against each other.

The rumble of the car was soft but enough to gain attention. I hit the gas, which wasn't much but enough to get me where I needed to go, and left. I drove sitting high in my seat and with the windows down to save me from smelling my own filth. Even my bag was still strapped to my back and it would be until I got to the farm.

I drove up the long winding driveway and felt a sense of pleasure rippled through me when I saw Otis's truck sitting near the house. They had made it home and I bet just in time. I flashed my lights at the house as I rolled to a stop under some trees. My nerves were high up in my throat and I felt sweaty, Carl was inside there hopefully being worked on.

The front door opened and Maggie came out, followed by Rick and Lori. I let out a slow breath at the sight of Lori, thanking everyone she had been able to get here in time to see her son. I got out of the car, unstrapped my backpack as a face I didn't know I would be glad to see came up in the screen door. 

"Sam!" said Rick, stomping forward with the help of Lori. He looked deathly pale and I could only scold him for giving too much blood. I should've donated before running off with Otis and Shane but I hadn't thought it all through. I hadn't even thought the plan through until we were in the thick of it.

"Oh, Sam," breathed Lori, she cupped my face in her hands and it felt so motherly I could've cried. "Oh, honey, you're filthy."

I let out a small watery laugh, stepping back. 

From behind them, Shane pushed the screen door open and hobbled out, nearly trampling Rick to the ground as he got down the stairs and across the lawn. 

"Is he okay?" I asked as he raced upon me and I suddenly had fear he would strike me, he would wrap his hands around my throat and kill me. "Is he–"

I didn't get another word out as Shane embraced me in a tight hug, pulling me taut against him. He clasped one back on the back of my head, pushing me against his neck and the other was wrapped tightly around my waist. His fingers dug into my skin.

"Thank god," he breathed, "thank fucking god."

I wrapped my own arms around him with a soft laugh and he rocked me. He smelled dirty, he hadn't showered yet. I glanced at Maggie and held out my bag with one hand as Shane continued to clutch at me.

"Got some extra supplies in there," I grunted out and she nodded, taking it from me. "Hershel might be able to use some–"

"Oh, fuck, Sam," said Shane, pulling back to look me in the eyes. "I thought–I thought you didn't make it. The herd it–it swarmed after you. You drove it away and–"

"Then why the hell did I hear a shot?" I hissed and his brows faltered, like he was stuttering through expressions. "I told you not to use a weapon–"

"There was more," he told me, shaking his head as his hands ran down my shoulders to my arms. He was assessing me, looking for injuries before Rick, who had a concerned gleam in his eyes, came upon me too. I made suspicious note of the gun tucked in Rick's holster and I swallowed thickly. "Came from the right, out of the school. Me and Otis, we–" 

"Where is he?" I asked in a low voice, feeling something strange uncoil in my chest. He was lying. He was lying to me. "Where's Otis?"

"He didn't make it."

"What?"

"He–he went down behind me," said Shane and I somehow didn't believe it, not with how badly Shane had been limping. He would've been the one behind, the one lost in the scuffle. "The walkers came out of nowhere and–" He looked away as if overcome, his nose scrunching up as his mouth did the same. "I looked back and he–I tried–"

I started to shake my head, some awful swelling building up in my chest. I let my eyes wander as Shane kept his hold on me, helping me stand up straight. There was a car I recognized near the trees and I glanced back at my friends and said in a sore voice, "Is T-Dog here?"

Rick nodded quickly, stepping forward to put a hand on my shoulder. "Glenn got him here, he got–" He swallowed thickly. "–he got treated, he'll be okay."

Maggie nodded to me with a soft smile although her eyes were red from tears. "He told me you helped him, gave him treatment out on the highway."

With a nod, I wiped at my eye with the only clean part of my hand. "I'm glad he's okay, and is Carl–?"

"In surgery now," said Lori with a nervous look back towards the house.

"Which reminds me," said Maggie, taking me from Shane's arms, "you need to give blood, now." She guided me towards the house and it felt sisterly as she looked me up and down and murmured, "As much as I wish you could shower first, we needed you with a needle in your arm five minutes ago."

"They said I would go into a coma if I got any more taken," said Rick behind us.

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "Damn right you would be, have you even looked in a mirror? You look like a damn ghost."

A young girl I hadn't met properly stood fast in the living room when we entered. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me and gave Maggie a quick glance before saying, "I'll get a wash cloth ready for you."

The girl looked like she was still in her late teens and she had pretty blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail that swished and glided over her back as she ran through the house. I could see a familial resemblance in her and Maggie and wondered if they were sisters.

"Takin' you in there now could be a hazard," said Maggie as the girl name back with two wet cloths in her hand. "But daddy said you have a good pair of eyes and after seein' your friend with the wounded arm, I'd say you got a good pair of hands, too."

"She was going to be a doctor," said Rick from behind me and I heard him ease himself down into a chair. 

Maggie took one of the wet cloths and ran it down my arm, all the while checking the veins to see which ones would be best to take. The girl I didn't know the name of worked on my other arm, cleaning walker blood from my arms and she gave me a curious look before asking me a question.

"Why'd you cover yourself like this?"

"Masks my, uh," I chuckled, "my smell. It makes me practically invisible to the walkers."

Shane rubbed his face, watching me carefully from a small staircase going upstairs. "How'd you ever have the time to do that?"

I gave him a slow smile. "I'm quick on my feet."

They got majority of the blood off where they'd stick the needle and then further sanitized it before testing out the veins with the tourniquet. I plopped down in a chair and clenched my hand into a fist as Maggie struggled with the needle. Her hands were shaking.

I wrapped my hand over hers and took the needle carefully out of her fingers. I sat up straighter, resting my arm flat against the arm of the chair and found my vein with one finger. I let out a slow breath and stuck myself with the needle and ignored the wince building up in my throat. Blood pooled into the little tube before filling the small bag.

I rested back and closed my eyes, unclenching my fist and cold hands undid the tourniquet. I felt lighter, my lips tingling with fresh numbness but it was over in seconds. I opened my eyes and Maggie pulled the needle out and she went directly to the closed bedroom. I heard small chatter when the door opened before Maggie was sticking her head out the door and nodding to me to come in.

I stood slowly, easing myself up right with my hands on my knees. My head rushed but not badly, it was easy to blind the black dots away. I glanced towards Rick and Lori and noticed them sitting closely, hands clutching each others. 

It was hard to look away but when I stumbled, I was surprised to find Shane coming to clutch at my elbow. He gave me a strange look and my brows furrowed as I pulled away from him to head into the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

"Sanitize your hands and grab a pair of gloves," said Hershel and I did as I was told.

I picked up a small bottle of hand sanitizer and quirted it into the palm of my hand, rubbing it over my skin as the smell prickled my nose. I then plucked the gloves up from the dresser, sliding them over my hands to come stand by Hershel's side. He was digging around in Carl's side, my blood hanging from the I.V. stand and slowly moving into the boy's bloodstream.

"How far are you?" I asked, peering into the small metal bowl. There were two other fragments beside the one he'd gotten earlier.

Carl looked so small in the bed it made me want to weep. His skin was sickly pale but there was no thrashing or crying. He was intubated, oxygen being pumped into his body, keeping him perfectly alive.

"That's what I need you for," he told me, glancing up and his brows rose considerably high on his old face. "Sweet Jesus, what's on your face?"

"Walker blood," murmured Maggie from the door. 

Patricia gave a soft laugh as she monitored the breathing tube. She was in charge of making sure the blood was flowing, as were the fluids, and that the boy wasn't choking on blood or brutal air. 

"Well, good thing your hands are clean," Hershel muttered back, patting the seat next to him. I sat down heavily and looked closely at what he was doing. "You see where the fragment is?"

I nodded, pointing with a glover finger. "Right to your left, 'bout less than a centimeter."

"I need you to pull it free as I pull back the tendons it's got itself stuck around," he told me with a nod. I reached forward and took hold of the pliers and he gave me a nod and tsking noise from his throat. "Careful...careful."

"You ever do this before?" I asked him.

He gave me a silly look and Maggie spoke from the door in a low voice, "He's a vet."

"Like a veteran?" I asked but the room grew even more quiet, save for the drip of the I.V. "Or...or a veterinarian?"

"He operated on cows," said Maggie. "Cows and pigs and cats and dogs."

"Even a few horses," added Patricia.

"Oh," I breathed as I sat on the edge of my seat to get an easier grip on the fragment as Hershel pulled the skin and muscle back so the sharp little thing wouldn't cut anything around it. "Well...that's mighty interesting, sir. I would've guessed you'd done this on a, well, human before."

"We all got the same parts," he told me, "for the most part." 

He gave me a nod to pull and did so with an expertly still grip. I eased it out, unwavering, until it was free from Carl's body and only a thin stream of blood followed with quickly clotted and stopped flowing down his side. I let the fragment drop into the bowl and Hershel continued to search. In the end, it took about another hour to find the last two fragments which had been lost deeper inside Carl's body but he remained stable and his heart rate continued steadily. 

Hershel allowed me to do the sutures and it was like falling back into the past. We had to suture the artery that had been nicked deep within his side but that was easy. Hershel guided me through the simple steps and it was done quicker than I thought it would take. When that was finished, we cleaned the wound and began to stitch it closed.

I clutched the needle with the needle holder, which looked like scissors except they couldn't really cut anything, and with my other hand I used forceps (thanks to Hershel I finally knew the term for the pliers) to carefully note where the puncture marks were as I worked. While I did so, Hershel left to tell Rick and Lori the news.

The thread was thick, surgical thread meant to keep a tough wound closed, and Patricia worked it through the needle before I clamped down on it with the needle holder. It was like I was back in the classroom, sitting at my own little desk with my pretend tools and my suture pad made to be like real flesh with little slits and holes in it to be closed.

Carl's skin was the same consistency. Thick, something hard to push the needle through. The needle was curved, unlike the one I would've used on T-Dog back on the highway if I had proper thread and not string. I did my best not to stitch through muscle and carefully peeled back an end of the wound before gliding the needle through and getting to work.

I found an easy rhythm that I hadn't had in some time. I moved the needle in and out, over and through, until the wound was closed and I worked on the second and third holes. When it was done I wiped down the wound, puckered and swollen with thread, and cleaned it thoroughly before applying the bandages.

"You would've made for a good doctor," murmured Patricia as she pulled the empty blood bag from the stand and into the garbage can with the rest of the gauze, bandages, drapes, and wipes we'd used. "You're very calm, you don't rush into things."

"Too bad all the colleges and hospitals are overrun," I said back with a grimace. "With all the compliments I've gotten lately, I would've gone back."

I wouldn't have, it was too late, but I did enjoy the ego boost.

I pulled the gloves off my hands and tossed them in the trash as I left the room, following Patricia out. I was much more steady on my feet then when I first entered the makeshift operating room. Carl was sleeping peacefully and Lori was rushing in before stopping me with both hands on my arms. 

Her eyes were tearing up thickly and when she blinked, they fell down her cheeks. Her hands squeezed me and she let out in a soft breath, "Thank you, thank you for helpin' my boy. For–for protectin' him."

I opened my mouth to argue back that I'd done a shitty job since he'd still gotten shot but she shook her head and quickly added, "Hershel told us it could've been much worse, that you saved him. Rick saw you knock him out of the way the best you could and Sam–" Her breathing was shuddering. "I'm so grateful, I owe you everything. Especially after what you've gone through tonight."

"I would do it again," I murmured back, "in a heartbeat."

She wiped at her tears with a smile. "He woke up for a bit when you were gone and–" More tears began to well up in her eyes. "–and he asked for you. Kept sayin' to us 'where's Sam, where's Sam, is she here?'" She shook her head and a small laugh escaped her. "You have such a hold on him and I can tell it's good, it's keepin' him leveled, eager to keep going."

"He reminds me of my brother," I told her, looking back into the room at the little boy. He was still pale but he was still breathing and that was all that mattered. "He–he's a good kid."

From inside the living room, I could hear Patricia sobbing from the kitchen where she was standing with Rick and Hershel. I could hear Maggie talking to Shane and I saw two brilliantly familiar faces coming in from outside.

"Sam!" said T-Dog with more life in his eyes than there had been back on the highway.

Glenn pushed inside, knocking his shoulder against T-Dog's to get in quicker as he cried out with a laugh, "Guts! I've been waiting for you to come out of there!"

He pulled me into a tight hug, minding the dried blood as he clutched at me. When he pulled back, he seemed to notice for the first time that I was in fact covered in walker blood because his nose scrunched up and he muttered, "Why am I not surprised?"

"What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, "maybe not covering yourself in guts? I half expected to see an eyeball hanging from your ear after what Shane told us you did out there."

I narrowed my eyes slightly as I pulled T-Dog into a warm hug before inspecting his wounded arm as I asked, "What exactly did he say?"

"That you're a self-sacrificing asshole," said Glenn, "more or less."

T-Dog's skin wasn't hot, it wasn't as swollen as it had been and I revealed the wound under the bandages although I shouldn't have but I needed to make sure he really was taken care of. We didn't need him toppling over from infection.

"You saved their lives," said Lori from the doorway. "You saved Carl's."

"By being a dumbass," muttered Glenn before shaking his head and offering me a large grin. "But you should know," he leaned closer, "Carl's not the only one who's been asking about you."

I narrowed my eyes at him as I secured T-Dog's bandage. "What does that mean?" 

"It means," said T-Dog with a hidden grin that he couldn't keep hidden that well, "is that a certain asshole showed quite a bit of concern for you when those idiots got back to the highway." When he said idiots, he motioned to Glenn and the kid rolled his eyes.

"Daryl seemed...what's the right word, Theodore?" I hadn't heard anyone call T-Dog by his first name before and I allowed myself to smile at that, it was cute. 

T-Dog thought for a moment before grinning in my face. "I'd say he was very concerned and very jealous Lori got to ride away to where you were."

"He's going to have a fit when he learns about your near death experience out on the road with the other dick who's been worrying over you," said Glenn, fixing the hat on his head with a smug grin. "Do you just attract them or something? They flock you like a pack of moths."

I rolled my eyes and ignored the fact that I've always attracted awful creatures, pesky things that could never leave me be. But Daryl wasn't one of them, but I knew Shane was. 

"We thought you'd died, when Shane showed up in that empty truck," said Glenn in a softer voice and it took everything in me to meet his eyes. "You were supposed to be with him and you weren't."

"Aw," I murmured, "it almost sounds like you would've missed me if I was gone."

"I'm serious," said Glenn and I instantly regretted trying to diffuse this strange tension. I wasn't used to being cared for, used to being missed like this. "Shane rolled up alone and told us you'd run off? Trying to be the sacrificial lamb to a herd of over thirty walkers?" He shook his head. "Don't do it again, that's all I'm saying, okay? We need you here, asshole."

I nodded with a sigh, there was no point in arguing and besides, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see the kid wake up and run around again, I wanted to see Carol find Sophia, and I wanted to see everyone heal. I was becoming a marshmallow, gooey and soft and still misshaped.

Looking behind me, Glenn's smile morphed slowly into a scowl. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Looks like Shane needs you."

"God, with what?" I breathed as T-Dog murmured in a voice similar to Glenn, "God only knows what that asshole could need."

I patted T-Dog on the shoulder as I passed, heading towards the staircase Shane was slowly making his way up on. His limp looked worse now that I could see him in proper lighting and now that I was paying attention. There were no walkers, no growling, no forceful hands, to stop me from perceiving him.

He motioned for me to follow him and I did so, slowly, into the bathroom. He closed the door and maneuvered himself in the little room until he got the shower running. He set his things down on the closed toilet seat before looking at me.

I didn't give him the chance to speak first.

"What'd you do to Otis?"

"Me?"

I nodded, nostrils flaring. "I know a liar when I see one, Shane Walsh. So, you tell me what happened out there or I'll go right on out there and tell everyone in this house you got him killed–"

He held up his hands, shushing me. I narrowed my eyes and he slowly lowered his hands and began to speak.

"I didn't kill him."

I was going to kill him.

"But you saw how bad it was out there," he continued with a frown. "The herd was comin' up on us and there was only one way someone was gonna make it out alive."

My eyes widened and my arms felt like they would go slack by my sides. "The gun shot I heard..."

He reached out, taking me by the shoulders, a pleading look already spilling from his eyes. "Sam, you got to believe me. It–it was the only way."

"You...you shot him?"

He got what was coming to him. He shot Carl, it was only fitting he died in a similar way.

I swallowed my terrible thoughts and said instead, "He didn't deserve that, you were home free!"

"Keep your voice down," he snapped back, the wildness returning to his gaze. "The herd could've come back, Sam, it could've gotten to us! This was the only way to keep 'em distracted–"

"He was a good man."

"And I'm not?" he spat. "Does that mean I deserved to die, too? Y'all need me, I couldn't die–"

"Otis didn't deserve that!" I countered, feeling the steam from the shower come creeping out and coat my skin. The back of my neck was already sweating. "He didn't deserve to die, either. You would've been fine."

"Not with that size of a herd. We were screwed." He shook his head, rubbing a spot on the top of his head as if it pained him. "You were gone, Sam. You have the best shot, you could've handled them if we were lagging but you left."

I glared, my nose turning up.

"You took so many with you but you don't get it," he was a liar, a filthy fucking liar, "there were so many."

There had been a lot, even with the amount following me. I'd taken at least three fourths of the herd with him towards the parking lot. Even then, the herd hadn't been that big to begin with. It was larger than the one on the highway, yeah, but this one was different. There was no reason for Shane to leave Otis behind, to even risk the gun shot.

"You're fucked up, you know that?" I murmured, a scowl trying to work its way to my lips. "You killed an innocent man–"

"He was hardly innocent," snapped Shane and I wanted to flinch at his tone. "He nearly killed Carl, it's his damn fault we're in this mess."

"Yeah but look at where we are right now," I hissed, waving a hand towards his steaming shower. I wished I could get in under the spray before I had to hear another word out of him. "We've got a real sanctuary here, a real place to live..." I shook my head and I could see the words getting to him slowly but not enough. He would never see himself in the wrong. "If you've fucked this for us–"

"It'll be on you," he spat. "If you say a damn word, it'll be your fault we aren't happy livin' anymore."

"You think I give a shit?" I did. "It's not my fault you turned on your own man! They'll throw you out," I leaned closer, snarling, "and you think Lori will want to have anythin' with you after she finds out the truth? That you're a murderer, that you killed a man in cold blood?"

"I killed the man who nearly killed her son, so," he was smirking, "yeah, I don't think she'll mind much."

I narrowed my eyes into a filthy glare. "If you were just going to be some righteous dick, then why pull me in here? You don't sound too scared that I'll go tell everyone what you did, so why?"

A part of me was horrified in the way I had nearly wanted him for a moment. It had been brief, just this fluttering feeling of being needed and the way he'd fiercely protected me, but had he even done it for me? Or had it been an act like the one he'd put on down stairs?

"Because we're the same," he told me. Just another dumb cliché. "We want people who will never have us and I thought you'd get it. We do bad things because we can't have them. It was all for Carl."

You can't tell them what he's done. This place is good.

I turned away from him, my scowl still across my lips. This had all been for Carl. The boy with the sweet smile, the curious gaze, the soft heart. It had been Carl and that reason alone was what made me leave the bathroom without another word and I could only sit back and hope that scared Shane.

I hope it made him worried.

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━sorry for lack of updates!! this fic has been getting NO interactions and NO comments and it's made me have no motivation or joy writing <333

hopefully it'll get more love who knows

but pls comment/vote