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Daryl held the shirt around the girl's thigh tightly. He was grateful she'd passed out because he could only imagine how bad it must hurt. He noticed how pale she was and figured it must be from blood loss. The back seat was coated almost. He pulled the shirt tighter and took a deep breath. Maggie was flying and he knew it was at least 15 more minuets until they were back to the prison.
"Was she alone?" Maggie asked, peeking around to look at him briefly. Daryl nodded.
"Said she was. She was gonna try'n get your attention to let yall know about the walkers. I watched her sneak out the back and she was gonna draw 'em off."
He watched Maggie's expression soften as she sped up. Glenn sighed.
"She looks young."
Daryl grunted in agreement. "Can't be more'n 20. Maybe."
He adjusted his crossbow into the floor between the front seats, quickly applying pressure again. In the silence he took her in. She was maybe 5 ft 4. Little over 140 pounds. She had good muscle tone by what he saw of the few inches of exposed stomach. Her hips were jutting out and he moved on from that quickly. Her face was soft and showed her youth. Daryl lifted her arm up to examine her hand. Hands tell a lot about a person. She had soft hands but slight calluses on her palm and tougher ones on her finger tips. He'd grabbed her guitar case so he knew what those were from. He laid her hand back down across her body. The older man touched her pony tail. She had pretty straight dirty blond hair. It was soft and taken care of. But her clothes were something out of necessity.
"How's she doing?" Maggie asked, pulling his attention away. Daryl nodded and kept the pressure up.
"She's still breathing, awfully pale though.."
The woman jerked the car to the left as she hit the road that led to the prison.
"Few more minuets, almost there." Maggie had it to the floor and for Daryl, he just wanted to get her to Hershel. He didn't know her from Adam, but he recognized that fighters spirit in her. He could tell by her reaction to him there was a lot to be said for her yet . Most women in her position would have left them on their own…though he would have had it under control. He looked up and seen Carl and Michonne running to get the gate open, guessing by their speed something was wrong.
"Get her to Dad, I'll follow and we'll worry bout the car later." Maggie said with hurry in her voice as she skidded to a stop.
By now a few other people stood by, looking afraid to see who'd been hurt. Daryl wanted to roll his eyes, damn dramatics. He swung the door open and pulled the girl out by her arms. He tried not moving her leg too much until he had her in his arms. He grumbled when he had to bounce her up a little to get a better handle on and her.
Carol ran up, flushed and looked them all over, relieved. "What's going on? I was worried…who's this?"
Daryl strode past her and sighed. "I dunno, bumped inta her in town. Walkers. Accidentally shot her. Ya know."
The older woman looked bewildered as she ran ahead of him to open doors. Maggie caught up and ran ahead to get Hershel informed. By the time Daryl got her to the cell that was being used for medical care, the gray haired man was ready. "Lay her down on the bed. How long has she been unconscious?"
"Bout 15 minuets or so. From what I could see, it went righ' through and stuck."
Hershel nodded and unbound her leg, making his initial examination. He took a deep breath and caught Maggie's attention.
"Im gonna need some water and if we got any alcohol left, bring it."
Daryl decided to break the tense air in the room. "For rubbin or for drinkin?"
His comment made the old man grin and nod. "Both."
Maggie shot a unapproving glare at them both and left to fetch it. Hershel took out a pair of scissors and began cutting most of the left pant leg off, leaving her decently covered.
"We're going to have to either cut it or push.." Daryl blanched and shook his head.
"Oh hell nah, I can screw the broad head off and you can back it out.." He followed Hershel's lead as he lifted her leg enough so Daryl could unscrew the field tip off the bolt. When Maggie returned she had rags and the rubbing alcohol ready to go.
"When you're ready Dad." She said as she moved Daryl out of the way. He gladly moved aside and stood off to the side, watching. He was curious, listening to the pair talk and work so well together.
"Hopefully her artery is intact…" Hershel spoke, voice sounding slightly grave. His eyes met Daryl's…it made him very uneasy. "If it was hit…I'm afraid there's not much I can do."
The hunter nodded and began chewing on his thumb nail, stopping when he tasted her blood. He watched as they pulled the bolt out and Maggie immediately started cleaning the area and getting thread and a needle ready for stitches.
"Well?" Daryl asked as he felt his stomach in knots. He'd hate to be the reason this girl dies. How shitty of a way for someone like that to die. Hershel let out a breath and smiled.
"She'll live. Lost a lot of blood but she'll be okay. Just stuck in bed for a while." At his words, Maggie smiled.
"Daryl said she was gonna try to draw a group of walkers away from us before we knew they were there. What kinda girl does that for strangers these days?" The woman poured some more alcohol on the wound before letting her father start stitching.
"A good hearted one does. Unfortunately we don't meet much people like that. Too many takers out there, almost no givers left…" The old man trailed off and concentrated on his task at hand.
Daryl watched and thought about what he had said. Girl sure didn't seem like a bad apple. He'd met plenty of bitches, she didnt remind him of any of them off hand. She was really gonna stick her neck out for em. Bad people don't do that. Before he could get himself too involved in his thoughts, Rick came to see what was going on. Daryl walked him down the walkway and told him about what had happened. The ex sheriff deputy listened and let him finish before saying anything.
"And you shot her?" He gave Daryl that look he gives people when he's trying to really think.
"Yeah. Walker moved last minuet. Shot er right in the thigh. She freaked out thinkin she'd been bit. She wouldn't even look at it. Feisty lil thing, called me an asshole."
Daryl didn't bother hiding his smile and Rick nodded, also smiling.
"Well, she's got you figured out." The ex sheriff chuckled and patted the hunter on the shoulder. "Get her stuff outta the car, go through it. If anything sticks out lemme know. If she checks out we'll let her stay if she wants. We could use the help." Rick scratched his beard and slid past him, peeking in as Hershel was wrapping her thigh up. The old man gave him a nod, signaling she'd be alright. Rick smiled again at Daryl and shook his head. "I got a feelin about this one Dixon."
With that he went past him and back to his watch. Daryl groaned and after a bit, Carol drug him away to get some food. He ended up telling the story of what happened to her and everyone else sitting close by. He found himself tired as Carol began cleaning up. He checked the time and knew he had a few hours before night would settle and it would be his turn to keep watch with Carl.
Daryl went out to the car and and retrieved his crossbow and her stuff. Eyes watched him as he carried it all upstairs to his cell and began going through it. He found the usual. Clothes, first aid kit, a few knives, pain killers…which he left out to take to her later…some the canned food she'd grabbed and a bunch of other things. All and all he decided she checked out. He flipped open her guitar case and what he found shocked him. There was pictures stuck to the inside. She was all done up, makeup and leather. His eyes roamed over them all. A bunch with the same four guys…a dog with pink hair…and many more.
He felt like he was intruding but Rick had asked him…Daryl lifted the guitar up and examined it. It had plenty of wear on it. The neck was black and the body some kinda light wood that had been stained to be gray. Guitar picks were scattered along the bottom of the case and an old Rolling Stones magazine.
He picked it up and turned it over…and there she was. Hair being blown back by some invisible air stream. Lips ruby red and glossy. Her eyes lined with black looking like she wanted to eat you alive.
She was in a super short cut off tee shirt and skin tight leather pants with chains hanging off them. The name JAX written in lipstick across the mirror behind her. He remembered that band. He had heard a few of their songs every time he'd went into a bar. They were one of those new age rack bands. In the corner of the page in bold black and red 'Clara Jax…Rocks Dirty Secret'. Then it sank in. Holy shit. He shot Clara Jax. Despite himself he smirked, well damn. He remembered a few of her songs, though he'd never admit it in a million years. After a few more minuets he put her stuff back the way it was and took it to the cell she was currently sleeping in.
Hershel was cleaning up and he noted her guitar case. "Musician?"
Daryl nodded and picked a piece of something off his shirt. "Mhm. I'd guess. No other reason to pack the bulky thing around." His voice had been low and the old man smiled.
"Maybe her and Beth can sing a tune or two together." Hershel yawned and his stomach growled. "Well unless you'd like me to look at you, I believe I'm going to get me some dinner. She'll be out for a while. Go get some rest before your shift eh?"
Daryl nodded, staying silent as the old man hobbled out on his makeshift prosthetic leg. He let his haze fall on the still pale girl. Clara huh? He thought as he made the decision that he'd keep his mouth shut. Her business. He'd tell Rick she checked out. If she wanted to be the rock star then so be it. He just hoped when people did find out she wouldn't be a brat. He wasn't a fan boy or anyone's bitch. Besides, she hardly looked like that girl on the magazine. She looked innocent asleep. She looked normal. This world changed folks. Changed her too, by the looks of things. He went to chew his nail again, catching himself. Her blood was dried and dark on his hands. Daryl decided to go wash up then sleep for a bit. It had been one hell of a day.
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