A/N: So, I know I've been away for a while. And I'm the ultimate story unfinisher, so I warn you in advance. But I've got quite a bit written, but alas, of course not finished.
This is, of course, my favorite genre, the Daryl O/C. This story picks up right after the shoot out at Grady...only in my story Beth doesn't die. But it's not a Bethyl story...though Beth will find her man. This story starts with my O/C Harper. She's a con artist and thief from Britain/Ireland who just happened to be hiding out after stealing a great deal of money from a Dutch billionaire. Her hide out turned out to be her salvation but she eventually has to emerge from her shelter. She's not a badass, but she's smart and capable.
This is Harpyl all the way, but really slow to getting to the good stuff (aka Alexandria). Hope you like.
"Dear Lord! Is every bluidy highway in Georgia like this?" Harper Winslow wiped away the profuse sweat and huffed in annoyance and disgust as she turned away from the hideous sight before her. The highway was littered with abandoned cars and dead, rotting bodies. The stench of those decaying bodies was making her nauseaus after hours of it. Not for the first time, did she wonder if perhaps she was dead and this WAS her hell. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. As if to somehow convince herself she was not dead, and this was not Hell, she focused her attention on her maps….highlighting the impassable roads with blue highlighter, circling hot spots with red sharpie. Not that she had OCD issues or anything.
"Fuke this shite! You're not in hell, so get yer shite together," she tossed the maps and markers into the console and slammed her hands against the supple leather steering wheel…. so hard, it actually shook the car. The dog resting in the passenger seat peered up at her, then closed his eyes, oblvious to what a shite storm they were in.
She, however, was keenly aware that every second they remained out here in the open vastly increased their chances of not making it back safe tonight, which she used to rationalize her lapses into vulgarity and self-pity. But since they'd left the cabin early this morning, they'd already double-backed twice because of impassable roads or swarms of deaders – costing hours of valuable daylight. The only saving grace was that the only other living soul to witness said lapses from grace was Bub, who merely looked over at her with his usual disdain in his chocolate brown eyes.
"Here you go, Bub. You need to stay hydrated," Harper poured bottled water into a plastic cup she'd cut down and set in the cup holder. He slurped loudly from the cup, then curled back into the leather chair, his nose occasionally sniffing the icy breeze from the AC vents that blew against his muzzle.
Harper continued to debate her options while nibbling on beef jerky. She'd pulled her black SUV behind one of the many abandoned vehicles that were scattered everywhere, in the hopes of blending in. She'd tried to take some of garage shine off by rubbing dirt on the SUV, but if an actual person gave it much more than a passing glance, she knew the gig would be up.
She bit the cap off the red sharpie, and nibbled on the end while marking through yet another unpassable road. She damn sure wasn't going to make the same dumb arse mistakes going back as she did getting here. The highways were a complicated and dangerous maze of impassable roads of walkers, debris and humans that now 'controlled' them. So rarely did the shortest route from point A to point B exist anymore. Which meant she still had at least thirty more miles to go and that was IF the rest of the highway was passable.
She momentarily considered turning back and cutting her losses – it would take her half the time now she had the map marked. Maybe that gas station a few miles back wasn't as looted as it looked, she thought to herself. But the reality was she'd probably be lucky to find a tin of dog food. She glanced over at Bub, and figured at least one of them would be happy. Then again the spoiled beast would likely turn up his nose, having grown accustomed to eating whatever Harper ate.
"Well Bub, we've come this far. Might as well suck it up, Buttercup" She reached over to fluff his soft fur, earning her a warm lick on her hand as she put the truck into gear.
"Are you bluidy fuking kidding me?" Harper glanced up before pressing the gas and shook her head, catching the glimmer of movement off in the distance. Could she not catch a bluidy break? And whatever it was, it was big, and moving fast. She lifted up her binoculars and scooched down into her seat….relocking the already locked doors.
Harper took a deep breath, then peered up again. Shit, whatever they were driving was really big. She mentally ran through the pros and cons of gunning it and spinning her truck around - maybe out run them and hope they didn't care enough to waste the gas and chase her down. But, with as fast as they were moving, she felt her best bet at this point was to hope they kept up the pace and just drove past. Hiding in plain sight had long been her forte. Maybe their speed would keep them from paying too much attention to the cars scattered about? She just had to pray they weren't scavengers.
"A fire truck? Who the hell drives a bluidy firetruck?" She gasped as the large red truck got closer and she reconsidered whether it was too late to go back to plan A? Her foot was itching to put the pedal to the metal.
"Oh bluidy hell, they've got a goddamned caravan," she groaned when she made out at least two more vehicles behind the fire truck. Shit. Now they were slowing down because of all the cars turning the highway into an obstacle course.
She was going to have to make a decision very soon. To sit here like a sitting duck and pray nobody noticed a very expensive and shiny black Land Rover in mint condition (albeit with the smattering of dirt thrown haphazardly on it)? And what were the odds all vehicles wouldn't notice her. Maybe fifty-fifty? It could happen? But what if she was wrong? Then what? Then she'd have no option but a confrontation. Was she prepared for that?
"Buckle up, Bub. Looks like we're going on a bit of runabout. Let's hope we have more gas and the fastest car," Harper reached over and buckled in her dog. Things were about to get real. Really real. Now.
Harper cranked the ignition, and held her breath, waiting for the fire truck to get close enough until it had too much momentum to stop.
She waited and watched, well aware she needed to time this perfectly. The fire truck appeared at the top of the hill. Harper no longer needed her binoculars to see the occupant. The driver was a muscle-bound military type.
She slid down further, and waited for the fire truck to pass. It was going much slower now, as it navigated the highway – taking slow wide rights, then equally slow lefts. She used the electronic controls to move the side mirror so she could continue to watch the firetruck behind her. She peered up just as the Suburban following the fire truck passed, only this time Harper could literally feel the eyes of the driver on her – at the very least on her car.
She sunk down further, but in the side mirror she watched the telltale sign of red break lights. The truck was stopping. Which would signal the others to stop.
"Shite, Shite, Shite! Fuke!" She spat more profanity as she was forced to admit the ruse was up. She had to make a decision. She peeked up at the mirror again, just to make sure they'd stopped and she wasn't imagining this. That she wasn't borrowing trouble.
"Bub…..We're going for a drive, you ready?" she looked over at her dog, fluffled his hair, scooched up and floored it, controlling her breathing as the adrenaline started to flood her system. She darted out past the Suburban in the opposite direction, only just catching the wide eyed look of surprise on the blue-eyed bearded driver.
"Wahoooooo. Take that!" she raised her middle finger while speeding in the opposite direction – trying like hell to give herself some much needed confidence that she could outmaneuver these guys.
"Oh no way. No No No No No Way!" she groaned when she saw two more vehicles in this not-so-little caravan racing towards her – now trying to box her in.
"Bluidy Hell," she watched in the rear view mirror as the Suburban spun around and the other two vehicles ahead of her tried to close the difference It was now a turkey shoot. Five against one – what could go right?
THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD
"Rick? What are you doing? We need to get Beth some help! Now's not the time to chase down anyone." Glenn yelled as Rick slammed on brakes, and spun around the Suburban. Glenn held Maggie's hand who sat in the far back with her bloody sister cradled in her lap.
"We've got to. What if it's someone from Grady? They'll have medical supplies?" Rick's red-rimmed eyes glowed with more than a hint of fury, and probably more than a little crazy.
"It's just one car. And there's no cross on the back window. Rick….stop it. Let it go, We need to get Beth help," Glenn pleaded. But still, Rick pressed the pedal to floor and chased after the shiny black SUV, secure in the knowledge that Daryl, who was bringing up the rear would know what to do on his end.
THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD – THE WALKING DEAD
Harper gripped the steering wheel as she gauged the oncoming truck's intention. Unfortunately the obstacles also gave the truck behind her ample time to catch up. But, then that might be to her advantage if she needed it to be.
The last oncoming truck was now coming straight at her.
"Shite. Fuke me! Tea and Biscuits it is!" Harper finally had no choice. She slammed her foot on the brake, thrusting the truck into a violent spin. She controlled it perfectly, as she'd been taught, and turned into the spin while her foot expertly adjusted until she guided the truck to a controlled stop. Her truck emerged from the spin exactly how she wanted it….. perfectly perpendicular to the highway …..which gave her the most options for escape.
"You ok there Bub,?" Harper reached over to pet him but Bub merely raised his brows as if to say 'what's the big deal'? As she looked around she forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, then another, until her breathing was under control. She didn't bother to duck down, knowing the bulletproof glass would protect her. And at the very least, it would let her know what she was up against.
She patiently waited for her assailants to make the first move, since they were the ones that started this little brouhaha. And she sure as shite wasn't going to give them the advantage of knowing she was alone. Or that she even was a 'She'.
"So Bub, Plan A, is they wave and apologize, and we both drive off, and live happily every after" Harper offered, hoping against hope that if she tossed it out into the universe, it just might manifest.
Before she'd even got the words out, the scruffiest man she'd seen in a very long time exited the grey Suburban, holding an assault rifle as he cautiously approached. Then a man from the blue sedan got out, and Harper found it hard to believe but he was even filthier and more disheveled than the other man. The smattering of what appeared to be fresh blood on them both, gave her pause.
"Well, so much for plan A. And fuke that book,The Secret,...and the Universe," Harper spat, though she pretty much knew throwing wishes out into the universe wasn't exactly much of a fullproof plan.
"I guess it's on to plan B," She slid open the sun roof and quickly gathered her weapons, letting the AR15 emerge through the sunroom first.
"Please don't shoot, please don't shoot, please don't shoot," She mumbled under her breath like a mantra as she prepared herself to follow the gun through the sunroof. Everyone back home knew how much the Yanks liked their guns and were insanely trigger happy. Hopefully these Yanks would show a wee bit of restraint. Still, 'Please Don't Shoot' was not her favorite of defense plan strategies.
She waited for the onslaught of gunfire, but thankfully it didn't come. She slowly peered up through the sunroof, getting her first real look at the two men who'd decided to chase her down and ruin her day. And the first living people she'd seen in nearly two years. She couldn't decide between pissed, or astonished.
"Good day gentlemen," she went with civilized.
"Hello ma'am," the bearded guy from the Suburban nodded politely as he addressed her, while the other shaggy haired man kept his piercing blue eyes on her the entire time. Both pointed guns at her.
"If you don't mind, how about I just nicely ask you two gentlemen to let me be on my way. I don't want any trouble," Harper smiled sweetly all while pointing the barrel of her weapon between them so they knew she was deadly seriousness, but also not eager to start a gunfight.
The shaggy man with the sexy arms looked to the bearded one, letting Harper know exactly who was calling the shots.
"We're not looking for trouble either, ma'am." the bearded man in charge answered but he also slowly approached, making it more difficult for her to keep an eye on both men. Harper suspected that was why he was doing it.
"Well, you've got a really funny way of saying 'Welcome to the neighborhood'," she accused, as she mocked him by doing her spot on mimic of his Georgia accent.
Rick could see the tension on her face – but the same tension was also on Daryl's. And Rick damned sure didn't need another injured person. He could only vaguely regret not having listened to Glenn. But here they were. Rick had to negotiate a way out for all.
"I apologize ma'am," Rick used his most genteel of sheriff's voices, the one he used to reserve for hysterical old ladies that lost their cat.
"People on the roads aren't always safe ta trust," Rick figured taking some of the blame would be the best place to stae.
"You don't say? I can't imagine why anyone would think that?" Harper couldn't hold back her sarcasm.
"I know, I know. But you don't always realize you're making a mistake until after you've made it. We were just…..sort of….hoping you could maybe… help us." Rick's blue eyes bored into hers as he begged – pinning Harper to the spot as she waited for him to elaborate.
"We've got an injured girl - gunshot. And we were hoping you might have medical supplies," Rick wasn't sure what he'd do if she was with the Grady people. But he had a damned good idea of what Daryl would do.
"A gunshot wound? Why would you think some random driver could help you? Why don't you take her to hospital?" Harper frowned at their faulty logic. They had to be fuking with her. But then again she also hadn't expected they would 'ASK for her help either. She figured they'd demand it. Maybe that was still their plan….to "lull" her into complacency?
"Ma'am?" the two men looked at each other then back at her, as if she were daft.
"There are no hospitals anymore. How do you not now that?"
Harper looked around as the other passengers slowly joined in. But seeing the condition of these people, Harper started to piece together that maybe she'd underestimated the devastation that had happened all around her. She'd sort of figured things were bad – that the electronics were out and such. But not to this extent – not to where there were no hospitals! If that were true, then she was lost. She'd never be able to make it back to Wales...back to G, and the others.
"How bad is the gunshot wound?" Harper found herself getting sucked in, despite her suspicions, reservations and determination not to. What was it about the best laid plans?
"S'real bad. She needs a proper doctor, but we'd be grateful for anything at this point. Fresh water to hydrate her? Clean cloth for bandages? An aspirin or Tylenol? Anything you can offer," Rick shook his head –mentally and physically exhausted..
Harper stared at the beaten men – then at the entire bedraggled group. Everyone was armed to the teeth yet they could hardly stand. For most of them it was nothing but sheer will and determination that kept them on their feet.
Every fiber of her being said they were telling the truth and wouldn't hurt her. Could she afford to be wrong? But then she asked herself, if everyone acted on that algorithm, would anyone ever help anyone ever again? And in times like these you needed people far more than you didn't.
"I've got a medical kit. I'm not a doctor, but I'll do my best to help…that is, if I have your word you won't shoot me or try anything?" Harper glared at the two men. The look of shock on their faces, followed by relief, then gratitude told her she was doing the right thing. At least she hoped that was what she saw. Shite! Was she making the right call? How could she not?
"I give you my word," the bearded man promised, his face morphed even more solemn which Harper could hardly believe. He lowered his weapon.
"You gave me your word. Can I have your name?" Harper pressed. Words and names held meaning and power
"Rick Grimes – and I give you my word we will not harm you." Rick cautiously approached, urging Daryl to do likewise.
"I'm encouraged to hear that. But, I'd still feel more comfortable if you laid your guns down while I get out?" she read their micro-expressions as well as their body language, looking for the slightest twinge.
The two men agreed, well aware if she tried anything, no less than a dozen guns would take her down.
Harper was still nervous, but she shimmied back down through the sun roof and exited her truck, leaving Bub inside with the window down. She popped the rear hatch and grabbed the medical kit and appraoched the two strangers.
"I'm Rick Grimes. And this is….Daryl Dixon," Rick rushed through the introductions.
"Harper Winslow. So who needs help?" Harper shook both their hands then urged them to lead her to the injured.
"Come with me. She was shot a little over two hours ago," Rick literally dragged her to the back of the large Suburban where a frail blonde woman was lying diagonally in the back, her head cradled in the lap of another woman and a mishmash of blood soaked cloths were wadded up at her stomach. The woman was stroking the blonde's hair, as if afraid to stop.
"What's your name, lass?" Harper jumped into the back with the ease of a gymnast and crawled beside the girl.
"Beeeehh," was all the girl could manage, her lips were purple and crusty from dehydration, and shock was setting in.
"Beth. Her name is Beth. My sister's name is Beth," the stunning brunette struggled to add as she continued to stroke her hair.
"Well, Beth, for someone who was unlucky enough to get shot , you were lucky to run into me. So let's see about patching you up, yeah. I know it probably doesn't feel like it at the moment, but you're going to be just fine, yeah?" Harper had seen time and time again how a patient's belief was the best indicator of healing. She peered at Beths pupils, which thankfully were equal, round and reactive to light but her pulse was thready and very weak.
"She needs an IV. I can do fluids for now, but a blood transfusion would be better" Harper pulled out one of the propylene IV bags from her medical kit and hung it up over the garment hooks.
"Here, would you pull my truck closer?" Harper tossed her keys to 'shoulders', sensing he needed something to do other than stare at injured girl while she worked.
"So, who can tell me exactly happened?" Harper asked the auburn haired girl who held Beth.
"Gunshot wound – maybe two hours ago. It was a 9-mil at close range. Her left abdomen," Maggie struggled to explain, her words coming out in short clips. She was clearly terrified, but her terminology was indicative of medical training or knowledge which gave Harper hope.
"Ok, Beth let's take a quick look then. I'll be as gentle as I can," Harper gently reached her fingers around the slim girl's back, hoping like hell she'd find an exit wound. Harper smiled when she felt the rough edges and sticky blood of the exit.
"Well, Beth, it's your lucky day. Obviously you'd have been luckier if you hadn't been shot. But it looks like a through and through." Harper squeezed Beth's hand, encouraged by the gentle yet firm squeeze in return.
"Ok Beth, I'm going to tell you everything I 'm going to do before I do it, so if anything bothers you or concerns you, let me know. Even if it's just a question or you want a minute." Harper had also learned how important it was for the patient to feel empowered.
"So, first, I'm going to give you something rather strong for the pain, yeah? You might feel woozy or disoriented. But don't be afraid. It's the effect of the meds. You just have to relax and let your body heal. Is that ok with you?" she looked into Beth's big blue eyes as she nodded she understood. Moreover, she could tell Beth appreciated the time she took explaining what was happening to her.
"Who are you?" Harper looked again to the woman holding Beth. The one with red-rimmed green eyes and auburn hair.
"I'm ….Maaa….I'm Maggie Greene. Beth's my sister," Maggie had tears running down her face.
"Here, wipe your face, Maggie and dry your tears. I'm going to need your help," Harper spoke firmly as she handed Maggie a damp towel, sensing the sister needed her to be strong.
"Ok, Maggie. We need to get her stabilized. Her blood pressure is dangerously low but the IV should help that. You did great by packing the wound and minimizing blood loss," Harper complimented what they'd managed to do, with nearly zero supplies.
"My Dad …. was a vet," Maggie admitted, her chin still quivering as she forced herself get it together.
"That's great. Draw up 5 mg?" Harper handed her a syringe and vial of morphine sulphate.
"You're sharing this? Don't you know what this is worth?" Maggie's eyes widened. Even Tylenol these was a luxury. Hospital grade painkillers were nothing but a dream anymore.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Your sister needs this," Harper shrugged, still naïve to the realities of the new world.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," tears started to stream down Maggie's cheeks, but one glare from Harper and she sucked it up.
Harper focused her attention on getting an IV picked, but it was tricky since Beth's veins were the size of a thread by now. It was a catch 22. Beth was dehydrated so her veins were miniscule. But the only way to plump up the veins was to rehydrate her. Finally Harper was able to find a vein on Beth's inner arm using a butterfly. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. Maybe later after Beth's veins plumped up, she could find a better one.
"Hey you," Harper called to the slim black man who had yet to leave the rear of the SUV.
"I need a flat board. Something to tape her wrist? Can you go find something?" Harper asked/ordered, using her hands to describe what she needed.
"Tape," she demanded, hand reached out, expecting it to be there. It was.
"And where the hell's that board?"
"Here it is. Sorry, but we had to cut it down," a handsome Asian man handed it to her, standing by to see if she needed anything else. When she turned around she noticed a small crowd had formed at the rear of the truck, while another group guarded a perimeter. It only served to convince Harper that she'd made the right decision. These people were clearly a family (of sorts) that cared deeply for each other.
"Ma'am, may I have some of your water? Just a little for my sister?" Harper turned to see a teen boy, with an infant on his hip. His plaintive voice nearly broke her heart. She'd been that thirsty and hungry more than once in her own life, and recognized the look.
"Of course you can, lad. Take whatever you need from the cooler, for you and others as well. There are snacks and crackers in a bag. I think I even threw in some apples sauce, pudding and crisps. The lass might like the pudding or apples? You'll have to look around for the spoons," Harper assured, waving her hand toward her truck. This time it was Carl's turn to give her that wide-eyed shocked, grateful look.
"There ya go luv. On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain?" Harper returned her attention to Beth and injected more pain meds when Beeth's face still contorted in pain at the barest touch.
"Maybe a six," Beth's voice began to slur and her eyes became glassy. She now had a rather cute lopsided grin on her face.
"You're so pretty…..soooooh soft," Beth's fingertips glanced Harper's cheek, then she slowly twirled Harper's dark gold hair into lazy swirls.
"Well, you keep thinking that luv, ok?" Harper used the surgical scissors to cut away the threadbare green scrubs, the dried blood now adhering the fabric to Beth's tender skin. Still Harper couldn't help but pause. Who in their right mind left hospital after they'd been shot?
She looked up and met Maggie's eyes, but Maggie silently told her to leave it be.
"Can someone hand me a towel? There's some in my truck," Harper reached out. This time it was 'shoulders' who handed it to her, watching intently as she continued to rinse and clean the wound.
Harper gently lifted the now very compliant Beth up, and placed a clean cloth beneath her back.
"Gauze" Harper called, the gauze instantly hitting her hand. It was tight quarters in the back of the Suburban, but they made do. Looking at the older cuts on Beth's face, Harper couldn't imagine what else this girl had been through. What they'd all been through. But now wasn't the time to ask.
"What she really needs a blood transfusion," Harper looked to the sister.
"She's O+, just like me. I can donate," Maggie offered before Harper even asked.
"That'll be excellent when you can get her to a proper surgery."
The looks on everyone's face went blank and nobody would meet her eyes.
"What? I don't have the equipment to do a roadside blood transfusion. She needs a proper hospital," Harper frowned, wondering what they expected of her.
"So you do have the equipment?" Maggie's eyes came alive with hope again.
"Maybe I could piece it together. I just don't understand. I know Rick said things were bad, but surely there is something? A military base with a hospital? Something?" Harper asked as she finished bandaging Beth's wounds, using no less than 25 steristrips.
Maggie shook her head 'No', as she held her sister.
"I don't know how to thank you," Rick came over to help her out of the truck bed.
"I'm glad I was able to help. But you could use some work on your initial greeting," Harper wiped Beth's blood from her hands with one of the disposable wipes, then sealed it in the plastic bag she gathered all the blood soaked debris in. She didn't want to inadvertently attract a deader because she was sloppy with her rubbish.
"Ma'am, if you don't mind, everyone wants to thank you," Rick escorted her over to where the others milling about. Introductions quickly followed and morphed into a veritable onslaught of names and faces, including a priest, the hot pig-tailed woman named Rosita, and Abraham, the ginger giant. It was overwhelming.
"Please don't call me ma'am. It's Harper….. Harper Winslow." she dutifully smiled and shook hands as she humbly accepted their gratitude. But they wouldn't have it, every one of them thanked her over and over – for even the tiniest of things. For helping Beth, for sharing her water, for the snack, etc.
"Harper, I hate to impose on you again, but we have another injured person. Would you mind taking a look at her? I promise, no more gunshot wounds," Rick begged.
Harper, of course, agreed and found herself being pulled to another car, this time to help Carol, a petite woman in her mid-40's suffering from internal injuries secondary to being hit by a car. Harper couldn't do much for Carol on the side of the road other than give her pain meds and bind her rib. She did what she could.
"Rick, Daryl – a word?" Harper pulled the two men off to the side..
"Carol and Beth need to rest for a few days at least, preferably in an actual bed and not in the back of a car. And Beth still needs that blood transfusion sooner rather than later." Harper frowned at the look of despondence on Rick's face.
"What?" she frowned. Did they not understand how serious Beth and Carol's status was?
"Ms Winslow, I thought we were fairly clear. For God's sakes, just look around. THERE ARE NO ARMY, NO HOSPITALS, NO NOTHING," Rick lost control and screamed at her.
"I'm sorry, Harper. You didn't deserve that. But the reality is there are pockets of survivors that roam these highways. Some are like us, just trying to stay alive but most are your worst nightmare. We don't have a place to stay as yet, but we'll find something. We always do," Rick insisted, though it was clear to Harper the other's had doubts.
"How the hell don'tchya know any 'a this? Where you been? Under a damn rock?" Daryl accused, his blue eyes skewering her.
"Are you telling me that you have no place to go for Beth to recover and rest. Other than the back of that truck?" Harper's eyes widened and her voice rose as she ignored Daryl's thinly veiled accusation. Everyone turned to stare, clearly scared….and exhausted…..and hungry. The only ones who seemed un-phased by the heated discussion were Bub and Judith - Bub was too busy licking the remnants of food from the little girl's face, eliciting an eruption of giggles and a flurry of tail wagging.
"We said we'd find a place. Thanks fer yer help," this time it was Daryl spoke. He spun on his boot heel to head back to the blue sedan. Rick reluctantly followed.
Bluidy Hell. Harper watched Daryl's ramroad straight back as he walked away. But without somewhere to recover, she doubted Beth would make it.
"Hey! Rick! Hold up," Harper called out, shocking herself more than anyone.
Rick's hand was on the handle of the Suburban when he heard her call his name. He slowly turned around – everyone's eyes upon her.
"I don't have much. It's just a small cabin. But it's remote and secure – at least it has been this long. You're welcome to rest a few nights with me. It's a few hours drive away. But I could do the transfusion for Beth there. That is, if you want to?" Harper offered, her hands in her pockets as she shrugged and waited, wondering if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Rick stared at her for a long while.
"You'd really do that? You don't even know us?" Rick's cry came out almost as an accusation. He desperately wanted to accept her hospitality and trust her, but he couldn't trust anyone. Not anymore.
"Because it's what people are supposed to do. I won't lie. I'm scared to death. I've been safe this long on my own and your people could easily overpower me. But you could have already done that, if you wanted to. And someone took a chance on me once, and it changed my life. So I'm a big believer in taking a chance in people…..that is, unles they give you reason not to." Harper revealed.
"Plus you have children. And you didn't shoot me and steal my stuff. That counts for something." She continued, gauging the faces staring back at her. She wasn't sure if it was shock or disbelief or simply exhaustion?
"Before we give you an answer, I need to know where you got those medical supplies. That's way more than a first aid kit," Rick's pupils shrunk into tiny pinpoints, hoping she wasn't just a skilled liar from Grady Memorial.
"I brought that kit with me because this was my first foray off the mountain where my cabin is and I had no idea what I might face out here. It's clear I was underprepared," Harper bristled, regretting her invitation.
"You're not with Grady?" Rick's entire being watched her.
"Is that the place Beth was shot? Of course not. I've been on my own since this began. You are the first people I've seen," Harper shrugged in annoyance, preparing to grab her things and head home. Without these ingrates.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I had to ask. You'll understand why after you've been out here awhile. But if you let us stay we'll earn our keep. Your trust will not be misplaced, I promise," Rick shook her hand, still not quite believing something this good could actually be happening to them.
"Rick, I'm not worried about paybacks or you earning your keep. But we are going to need more beds. Like I said, my place is small, and I don't want anyone sleeping outside," Harper did her best to assure them they were welcome to stay with her.
"Ma'am, we'll be fine outside or wherever. We have tents and we have the trucks," Rick scoffed at her naive concern.
"I'm not good with that, Rick. I've been lucky, but it's still too dangerous. Just as a suggestion, maybe we liberate a few of those camper vans. I must have passed a dozen of them on my way," Harper suggested.
"S'a good idea. We can handle that," Rick shook her hand, his eyes glistening with weariness and gratitude.
"It's fine Rick. Here, why don't you eat something. You look like you could use it," she passed him a packet of cellophane wrapped crackers. Rick looked at it and she could read it on his face. He was mentally divvying it up for Carl and Judith.
"Carl and Judith have both eaten." she assured him, but Rick still eyed it suspiciously. Only when Daryl nodded that she was telling the truth did Rick acquiesce, shoving in two crackers at once.
"You sure about this?" Rick gave her an out. But the look on all their faces gave her no choice.
"I am," Harper agreed, before her brain could think it through.
"Everyone, let's move ….before we lose what's left of the light," Rick ordered his people and like a weary battalion they all loaded up.
"Well, Bub, guess who's coming to dinner," Harper turned the ignition and reached over to fluff his golden fur. He was clearly thrilled by the prospect and smelled like baby. Harper prayed she was doing the right thing.