AN: Warning - Character Death
Her knife came down in a sweeping motion, buried quickly in the skull of the monster in front of her. She yanked it out, blackened ooze and brown putrid goo splattering across her chest, sleeve, and hand. As quickly as it fell, another took its place. They just kept coming, like the plague of locust sent to devour the earth, spilling forth and cutting down all in their path.
"Carol!"
The streets ran red, black, and brown, limbs and bodies of the now barely-living and the dead covering the ground. Her family were spread out, having come running from wherever they were stationed, from whatever tasks they'd been doing, trying to hold the line.
"Carol!"
They were pitifully undermanned and unprepared to deal with this herd. The growls and snarls filled the air amidst the pandemonium of knives, machetes, swords, and baseball bats being wielded in hand to hand combat. Shots firing from a distance made it even more dangerous to be on the ground, but long-distance weapons were needed just as badly.
"Help!"
She pushed forward, adrenaline carrying her past the point of exhaustion, strengthening her limbs when they would otherwise have failed her. Not another one! Not this time. Fingers grasping, hands reaching, jaws snapping…
"Miss Carol!"
She kicked her foot forward, shoving the closest walkers, giving her some space to maneuver her weapon. So close!
She was in a clearing. There was a break in the line of bodies; someone had cleared an area and it had yet to be filled back up. Walkers lay at her feet and she looked quickly, scanning. She saw the familiar bolt sticking out of a walker's gaping eye socket.
"Carol!"
That voice was different. The drawl, the rough, deep timbre. Daryl.
She jumped across the bodies and she was pulled up short. There he was. Daryl was pinned back against a tree, surrounded by a wall of walkers. Her heart dropped in her stomach at the sight before her. Just beneath him and behind his legs, almost obscured by the clamoring undead, was Sam.
He was huddled, his tiny hands wrapped around Beth's knife that Daryl had been wearing, shivering and looking at her, terrified and wide-eyed.
She moved without forethought or planning, like a mama bear protecting her cub, she fought her way to the two of them, cutting down anything or anyone in her path.
"M-mi-miss Carol!"
"Get him outta here!" Daryl yelled at her as he put down another walker. No words necessary, she grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him behind her, simultaneously turning to put her back to Daryl's, sandwiching Sam between them as they fought off the geeks. Inch by inch they fought to the tower, every step seeming like a mile between them and safety.
Sweat poured over her forehead, dripping into her eyes, burning and stinging and clouding her vision. Thick blood and walker goo stuck to her hands and weapons, slicking everything. Even Sam was doing his part, helping to put down anything that got too close to him.
It seemed like hours, but she had no concept of time, and she could see the tower ahead. Almost there. So close.
"Aghhhhhhhh!"
Sam's scream rent the air in two and her heart stopped. She tried to turn, but walkers pressing in on her made it almost impossible. She felt his hand grab onto her belt and she shoved the two walkers in front of her back enough to twist and grab Sam.
"He's not bit," Daryl's voice screamed in her ears even though it was small and weak.
She looked up and all she saw was red.
Blood. NO! No! Noononono…
"Get him to the tower, Carol!" Daryl shoved at the two of them with his one still good arm.
"Daryl, NO! We can amputate-we can save-," Carol bit out in a voice so pained that it was almost inaudible.
"No time! Now go!" He pushed them again, taking his knife in his hand and helping clear the last few feet. She tried to grab Daryl's arm and drag him with her. She couldn't get a grip with the blood and sweat and walker muck, and she felt Sam slipping from her grasp. She had to let go of Daryl to pull Sam back and push him up the ladder.
"Climb!" She ordered him, her throat beyond painful from holding in the sobs that wanted to wrack her body. When she reached back, Daryl was gone.
Craaack
The rifle shot echoed over the destruction as she climbed behind Sam, struggling to hang on to the rungs, barely able to see through her tears. She reached the top and saw Rick standing at the window. He lowered the rifle, looking at her in mirrored agony, and nodded his head just slightly.
He wouldn't turn.