Daryl had been tracking the deer for hours when he heard the screams. Startled, he stopped dead in his tracks, cocking his head to the side to listen. It wasn't long before he heard it again; they were the frantic shrieks of panic.
"Shit!" He swore, turning his head to look longingly at the trail he was about to leave and slung his crossbow over his back.
Turning on his heels, he sprinted cautiously toward the high pitched wailing he heard in the distance. He had no idea who'd be out here in the woods. The women were all back at camp washing the clothes, but he could tell by the timbre that it was a woman, which made the hair on the back of his neck stick up.
He could tell that the sound was getting closer, as he dodged in and out of the trees. The sound was punctuated by grunts and gurgles, making him think that whoever she was, she wasn't going to last long. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was being eaten alive.
Dodging behind a boulder, he listened. The woman had gotten quieter, as if too exhausted to scream anymore. He was about to swing around the edge of the boulder, when he heard a man's voice and pulled back quickly.
"You shoulda just shut your piehole, then I wouldna had to do that." The man spoke but the only response Daryl could hear was a groan of pain.
Fury shot through him, snapping body rigid, tensing every muscle on him. Quietly pulling his crossbow, Daryl peeked around the edge of the rock to look.
His gaze immediately fell on the girl, causing his stomach to clench instantly as if he had been punched.
She couldn't have been very old. Her petite body lay crumpled on the ground, legs askew. Her face was ashen, the only color was the blood trickling from her mouth and the jagged cut above her eye. The bruising was already starting, causing one side of her face to swell. She was naked, her clothes torn from her body, lay scattered in the leaves that lined the ground. Cuts and bruises covered her arms and legs and left arm bent at an odd angle. She was moving very little as the man grabbed rope from his pack, but when her leg moved to the side, he could see blood running down it from the inside of her thigh. Instantly he knew why she had been screaming and a cold fury settled on him.
The man was large, his head covered by scraggly hair that fell limply around his bent head as he worked over his pack. His back was to Daryl which was perfect because Daryl was going to kill this son of a bitch.
Raising his crossbow silently, he put the man in his crosshairs and was about to shoot when he heard another voice.
"Gerald!" the man's voice called out, causing Daryl to pull back carefully.
Shit! Daryl thought inside his head.
"Yeah! Over here!" The scraggly-haired one shouted out. "I got us something to play with!"
The other one stepped out into the clearing. He was fat and tall with a bald head and overalls. He looked about as dumb as a box of rocks, but he held a shotgun in his hand. The fat one immediately gazed down at the broken girl who had fallen completely silent now.
"Where'd ya find her?" He asked, his eyes lighting with excitement.
"Dumb bitch was down by the stream washing her face." He snorted.
"Wow. She's purty." The fat one tried to bend over to touch her face, but his stomach got in the way, so he knelt down next to her. Setting his shotgun down by his feet, he leaned over her and shoved his nose into her hair. Sniffing, he nuzzled her head, and groaned excitedly.
Daryl's lip curled back in a snarl of rage. It was all he could do to not go rushing out there, but he needed to be careful. He formed a plan in his head.
So excited by the naked body of the girl, the fat one began fumbling with his overalls, trying to get them off so he could have his turn on her. Daryl knew he was going to have to act fast, and looked around the ground for a couple of stones. Seeing a couple on the ground he grabbed them.
"Hey! We got time for that later. Besides…she's more fun when she's awake." The scraggly-haired one placed his foot on the fat one and shoved, tipping "Lard-ass" over on his side.
"Hey! You already got a turn." He complained in a high pitch whine.
"And you'll get yurs." He snapped back. "Right now, we got us a couple of rabbits dat need cleanin'." He said, pointing at the trio of dead bunnies laying on the ground.
With one last look, the fat one frowned, shoving his lip out in a pout, and pulled the shoulder of his cover-alls back up. Struggling to stand, Lard-ass grabbed the rabbits by their ears and threw them toward the rock he was going to use to dress them.
Daryl pulled the gun that he kept as back up and cocked the hammer. He knew he couldn't miss and was about to shoot when he heard the girl groan in agony.
Peeking back around the huge rock, he saw her move slightly. She cried out when she accidentally attempted to move the arm that was clearly fractured. He saw her face turn white and her eyes fly open. He could tell the moment that she realized where she was because her eyes grew wide and terror filled them.
Hang on, little girl. He thought to himself. I'm almost there.
Whimpering in fear, the girl cradled her broken arm and attempted to scoot away from the men who now looked at her.
The scraggly-haired one was amused and smiled evilly at her attempt at fleeing. He even got up from cleaning the rabbits to make his way over to her.
He could see her frantic movements mixed with the pain from her arm and as the man got closer, she attempted to kick him, but all she managed to do was piss him off.
Crack! Before he could do anything to stop him, the scraggly-haired man kicked her as hard as he could, right in the ribs.
The icy cold rage turned to hot-blooded fury as Daryl stepped out from behind the boulder with his crossbow raised. His finger squeezed the trigger and it wasn't long before he heard the pleasing sound of the arrow hitting the man right through his chest.
Gurgling followed by an impressive spray of blood exploded from the man's mouth. Pitching forward, the man stumbled for a step before falling right on top of the wheezing girl. Before the fat one even knew what happened, Daryl turned sharply, pointing the gun at him and pulled the trigger, hitting him in the back of the head.
Brain matter and blood exploded all over the rabbits who lay partially skinned. Topping forward, the fat one landed on top of the cleaning rock, before sliding down with a thud to the ground.
Daryl's teeth were clenched, the blood pounding in his ears as he turned back to the scraggly-haired one to make sure he was dead.
He lay on the girl, her pale limbs were all that could be seen of her. Remembering that the bastard had just boot-stomped her ribs, Daryl rushed over, grabbing the man's shoulder and rolled him off of the girl laying beneath.
Cringing at the sight, he shoved his crossbow toward his back and knelt down next to her. She was gasping for air, the wheezing accompanied by frantic attempted to take breaths followed by wincing each time she did. Panic filled her eyes as she saw him and a strangled whimper came out of her as her eyes locked on his.
"Shh…shhh…shh." He tried to soothe her, not even knowing where to begin.
"It's all right. I'm not gonna hurt ya." Daryl made his voice as quiet as possible even though he was a bit panicked. He could see the spot where that asshole had kicked her was already starting to form a boot-shaped bruise and was worried that he had injured her lungs.
She struggled to drag in a breath to fill her lungs.
"That's it. Take a slow, deep breath." He encouraged her as he laid down his crossbow next to his knees. He saw her shiver and goosebumps cover her naked body. He looked around the camp for something to cover her with and his gaze fell on an old army blanket that the scraggly-haired one had next to his pack. Moving quickly, Daryl rushed over to grab it.
"All right now. I'm gonna cover you a bit with this. K?" He said gently, as he shook the blanket out.
She was so focused on catching her breath and trying not to pass out that he wasn't sure if she heard him because when the blanket first touched her legs, she jumped.
Yelping in pain, the girl's eyes shot straight to his, catching him wincing in sympathy. Daryl sighed when tears filled her eyes, before spilling over and trailing down her cheeks. He gently laid the blanket on top of her, up to her chin, before trailing the back of his fingers along her cheeks.
"It's okay. I know you're in a hellofalot of pain right now. I need you to focus on taking slow, steady breaths." He stated gently, brushing away the tears that were falling.
"Can you do that?" He asked, turning his body to grab his pack so he could rummage through it.
His gaze fell back to her and he waited for her to answer.
Her eyes searched his. He could still see the terror and agony in the depths and softened his expression.
"Can you?" He prompted gently.
She was so scared, she could barely breathe. She still couldn't comprehend all that was happening, still stuck on the grotesque man who had forced himself on her. She was still in shock and could feel the gut wrenching pain in her womb, radiating outward through her body. She was barely aware that the man was talking to her, but he was persistent.
Her eyes traveled back to his, studying his to see if he was there to help her or hurt her. Her mind, however, was hard to focus, and her thoughts kept straying. Everything was beginning to be fuzzy, but his eyes held hers. She saw sincere compassion there, causing her to speak, but all that came out was a croak.
"Okay…okay…its all right. Don't talk. Just breathe." He said, gently reassuring her. His hand was still on her cheek as he studied her face. Her color was bad and he was worried that she was suffering from internal bleeding.
He watched her eyes become unfocused and began drifting off toward the trees above. He knew she was barely conscious, which might not be a bad thing. It would certainly be easier to move her if she wasn't.
"Darlin', I'm gonna wrap you up in this. Then I'm gonna hafta carry ya." He cringed at the thought, but knew she was barely with him.
He looked around the campsite until he came up with an idea. He wanted to minimize her shock and knew that he was going to have to do a few things before he moved her. The first of which, was stabilizing her arm. He rummaged through their bags and found a pair of clean socks and a first aid kit with an ace bandage. He grabbed his knife, slicing through the toe of the sock and cut it off. He peeled back the blanket so that her broken arm was exposed. He glanced at her face to see that her eyes had drifted half closed and she was staring out into the woods. Gently lifting her broken arm, he cringed when she yelped, but rolled the sock up her arm. He could feel her shaking as he used a piece of bark to cradle her arm in and wrapped the ace bandage around the makeshift device. Once it was stabilized, he looked at her face.
Her mouth hung slightly open and her lips were almost colorless. He could hear her panting now and knew he had to hurry. Pulling the blanket away from her, she gasped when the cold air hit her.
"Hang in there. I'm almost done." He kept talking to her, his mind racing quickly.
Sliding his arms under the back of her knees and shoulders, he knew this was going to be the worst part, but had no other choice. Lifting her as gently as he could, she went completely limp the moment all of her weight tugged down on her brutally damaged ribs.
Thankful that she had passed out, Daryl moved her to the blanket and rolled her up in it like a burrito. Throwing his pack onto his back, he picked her up and began moving as quickly as he could toward the prison.