There was not a sound to be heard down the dark hallway.

Carl scanned the narrow passage, his gun steady. He could see the infirmary doors; he was a few steps away. Slowly advancing, he jumped as he heard a walker come from beside him. Backing up and holstering his gun, Carl swiftly stabbed the walker in the eye, pleased with himself when the walker stopped fighting. Take that mom. I can handle myself.

Carl knew is parents would be pissed that he went alone, but he needed to prove his worth as a soldier. Plus, Hershel was dying a couple floors away. There was no time for backup.

Reaching the doors, Carl slowly pushed on them, disappointed at their locked refusal to open. He jammed against the door with his shoulder, the sound alerting several walkers to his location. Slowly streaming down the hall, Carl braced himself, feeling fear rush through his body. Looking inside the infirmary from the door's blurred window, he could see another figure slowly approaching. Great, another walker. I'm definitely going to die.

Suddenly, with the walker's snarls growing louder, the infirmary door burst open, Carl falling backwards into the room and onto the floor. Quickly sitting up, he grabbed his gun and pointed it at the moving figure, who was hastily locking the door against the many walkers banging against it.

"You're alive?" he choked out.

Carl watched as a woman turned around, pressing her back into the doors to keep them from rattling. She was maybe around his mom's age, or a little younger. She at first looked surprised, then scared after noticing his gun still raised.

"Shh", she whispered. "They'll go away in a few minutes if we keep our voices down."

Carl stared astonished, standing up and keeping his gun steadily pointed at her. "How did you get in here?"

"I've been here for months", she answered quietly. "I worked here." She raised her hands in surrender, tentatively taking a step away from the door.

Carl flicked his gun to the corner of the infirmary. "Go over there, now."

Complying, she walked across the room and sank to her knees, her hands still held up. "Are you with the group that cleared the yard last night? I heard gunshots…" She started. "What are you doing here by yourself?"

Carl sighed in frustration, knowing his Dad was going to lose it at him. Thinking carefully about what to say, he decided to ignore her questions. "I need gauze and antibiotics. Where are they?" He demanded.

Suddenly becoming serious, she lifted her head. "Is someone hurt?"

"Tell me where they are, now!" Carl asked again, moving closer to her with his gun.

Her eyes becoming frantic, she quickly pointed at a drawer across the room. "Try in there. Here, you need the keys to open it." She slowly reached one hand in her back pocket, removing a set of silver keys on a chain. "Try the smallest one" she said calmly, tossing the keys to Carl.

Carl slowly backed towards the drawers, his gun still raised. "What's your name?" he asked her, as he sank to his knees and started fiddling with the keys.

"Alex", she answered. "What's your name?"

"What are you doing here?" Carl ignored her again.

"I was working when some riots broke out. A couple of us locked ourselves in here…" she trailed off.

"Where's the rest of your group?" Carl asked.

"They're all dead, They were trying to find other survivors. Couldn't make it out of the prison," Alex answered steadily. "It's just me now."

"You a guard?" Carl inquired, jamming the key into the drawer which refused to open.

"No, I'm a doctor," Alex answered quietly. "Will you bring me to the person who's injured? I can help them."

Carl glanced at her incredulously. "You're a doctor?! What are you doing in a prison?"

"I was operating on a stabbed inmate. I used to be on-call for the prison…I-I was a surgeon at Grady Memorial in Atlanta," Alex answered, still on her knees.

Carl stood up, turning his gun back at her. "Open the drawer," He demanded.

Alex stood up slowly, feeling his tough-guy act weaken. He's just a kid, He's not going to shoot. "Sorry," She answered, giving Carl a small smile. "They never repaired anything in here before the outbreak. You have to jiggle it a little." She knelt down, inserting the key and opening the drawer for him.

Placing his gun in his holster, Carl sank to his knees, grabbing loads of gauze, bandages, and antibiotic ointment, shoving it into a black bag.

Alex looked at him hopefully. "What's your name?" she tried again, to no avail. "Listen, you don't have to take me to your group," she whispered calmly, "But if you'd like to tell me what's going on, I might be able to give you some more stuff that can help."

Carl looked at her pointedly, Alex raising her hands again in surrender with a small smile. "Please" she asked him. "Let me help."

Carl sighed. "I'm Carl. And he was bit. Okay?"

"Where?" Alex asked calmly, dropping her hands.

"His leg. So, my Dad cut it off-" Carl started.

"Was the amputation below the knee?" Alex inquired sharply.

"Yes," Carl answered slowly. "But we think he's bleeding too much... We're going to burn the wound, so the bleeding will stop."

Alex sighed, looking down at the floor. "No, the shock could kill him. He's passed out, right?" she asked, with Carl nodding. Her voice became calm, yet serious as she continued. "Okay, just keep his leg elevated. And make sure he doesn't get a fever. Do you know how to make a tourniquet?"

Carl shook his head quickly, "No".

Alex quickly stood up, unlocking another cabinet and removing a large black band. "This is a surgical tourniquet. Wrap this tight- as close to the amputation site as you can. To stop the hemorrhaging. And keep pressure on the site. Once the bleeding slows, take the band off. Don't leave it on for too long. Don't forget okay?"

Carl nodded quickly.

"Also, watch his breathing. The reason he hasn't opened his eyes is because his body is in shock, so you should keep him warm too- maybe an extra coat or a blanket." Alex continued. Looking around, she stood up and unlocked another drawer, grabbing gloves, metal clippers for gauze, and sterile needles with packets of suture thread. "Take these too. Eventually someone will have to stitch him up. You have a doctor down there with you, right?"

Not giving anything away, Carl gazed at her.

"Give this to someone to stitch up the open vessels after the wound's been cleaned..." Alex slowed, shoving the materials into Carl's black bag. Noticing his afraid look, she took a deep breath, looking at him with a smile. "I'm sure he'll be fine," she told him sympathetically, zipping his bag.

Carl stared at her, weighing his options. Could I bring her back? She could save Hershel…

Alex snapped him out of his trance, placing the back gently over his shoulder. "Carl? You with me? Remember everything I told you? You best be heading back, soldier" She said softly.

Carl looked up at her. "I think we're gonna need your help."