Day 1 - Part 2: Trouble

The sun was well up, had been over the horizon for a couple hours at least, when the trouble started. I had known there likely would be trouble, but it still caught me by surprise. I was sitting cross-legged with my knees against the barrier, my chin on my forearms. The rifle that Daryl left me lay across my lap. I felt oddly at peace, sitting there with the sun at my back, a light breeze on my skin, looking out over the city. The heat from the sun wasn't very strong, yet, but it was starting to make my shoulders and neck ache, like holding a burn over a hot cooktop. I think I had a spare short-sleeved shirt in my pack. I had thrown out the one I'd been wearing when the walker bit me, trading it in for a large tank top that gaped open on the sides to show more of my sports bra than I would normally care for. It also didn't give much protection from the sun. I'd head back in when the heat became too much and change.

There was a noise behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder, confused. The sound was muffled so I couldn't quite tell what it was. As it grew louder, though, I could start to make out voices, yelling. Then I recognized one. Suarez. Oh god, was someone else hurt? I jumped up, holding on to the barrel of the gun with one hand. The voices were continuing to get louder; they were coming up the stairwell. Towards me. Slowly, I leaned down to lay the gun on the concrete beside me. This wasn't about someone else. This was about me. Good. Let them take the decision out of my hands. Then it would be over and done with. No more drain on their resources, no making them wait around while the hordes below increased in number and made escape less likely. Let them come for me. Suarez and Lawrence wouldn't let it go so easily, though. No, Suarez would resist to the point where either he would hurt someone else or they would have to hurt him.

I hurried over to the door, not willing to let anyone get hurt because of me. I wasn't worth it.

"You stay the hell away! You hear me?" I could hear Suarez's voice yelling through the door. He sounded like he was just on the other side. As I was reaching for the handle the door flew open, smacking against my knuckles painfully. I yelped and snatched my hand back. Suarez's eyes were wide and a little crazy as he registered the fact that I was standing there. I couldn't see past him, but I could hear someone else yelling. He wasn't a big guy, but he was wider and taller than I was, and apparently much stronger, because before I could react, he had crouched down and grabbed me around the waist. I cried out, startled, as I ended up draped in half over his shoulder.

"Put me down! Put-" I was slapping at his back, trying to dig in my elbow, but he was ignoring me. There was more yelling, but I couldn't see anything except his sweaty, grimy shirt. Suarez wrapped his arm around my upper legs, pinning me in place. His shoulder was digging into the wound in my side painfully.

"It has to be done! Why can't you see that?" I recognized Phil's slow, deliberate cadence. "She's dying anyways. We're just helping to speed up the process."

"I said 'No', goddamnit!" Suarez gripped my legs tighter, backing away from where I assumed people were coming out of the stairwell with Phil. I couldn't see how many there were, but I could hear the sound of their feet. I heard a click, the sound of a hammer on a gun being pulled back. "Don't fucking move!" I wedged a hand between the wound in my side and his shoulder, but it didn't lessen the pain. I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my cry. I wondered how much the walkers on the street could hear of this commotion, how many more it was drawing. Phil's voice was slow and deliberate.

"There's no need for that, son. Think about this rationally."

"Suarez," a voice warned. It was Rick, I think. "Phil has a valid point here," I could both hear and feel Suarez's protest, but Rick kept going. "But, we don't kill someone just because they've been bitten. This has happened before, with our friend Jim, and we decided then that the person who's been bit gets to choose how it's handled. As far as I'm concerned, that still applies."

"And what did Jim choose to have his fate be?" No one answered Phil for a minute or so, but finally Carol chimed in.

"We left him by the side of the road. It's what he wanted."

"So you let him turn. You let him become one of those...things. How many people do you think he's attacked since then? How many people has he turned? This isn't just about choosing how you die. She's dangerous!" Suarez gripped me harder and backed up a couple more steps, jostling me and causing me to cry out again, the sound muffled by the hand I still held against my mouth. I wished he would just let them do it already. My heart broke a little for him, knowing how difficult it must be for him to accept losing someone else after everything he had been through. His whole family was gone. All he had left were me and Lawrence.

"Dangerous? You kidding me, man?! She's 5'4", 140 pounds, tops. You feel threatened by that? By her? A unarmed girl scares you that much?" I heard some angry sounds and some scuffling. There was the sound of another gun being cocked and Rick raised his voice again.

"Drop it, Phil! No one dies today!" There was a long pause where everyone grew quiet, waiting. The blood was rushing to my head, making me a little dizzy. My heart was thumping in my ears and I was trying so hard to be quiet, but my throat kept making these little whimpering sounds. At last I heard something metal being tossed on the concrete. I guessed it wasn't a gun since weapons of that sort were highly valued now.

"Have it your way," I heard him grumble. Still nobody moved.

"All right. Let's just everybody calm down, head back inside, and have some breakfast." I could hear the heavy door scrape against the concrete as someone moved to do just that. "And you," Rick continued, "your friend's bleeding again." The muscles in Suarez's shoulder shifted as he turned to look at what Rick was talking about. He cursed under his breath and set me back on my feet. I gasped and stumbled sideways, losing my balance as all the blood pooling in my head drained away. A strong pair of hands caught me and held me upright until I could see again. My fingers were sticky, so I guessed Rick was right when he had said that my side was bleeding again. I turned to look towards the stairwell door where Phil was hovering, watching me.

"Wait," I gasped, still trying to catch my breath. My side was on fire, like someone was holding me over an open flame. The pain made it hard to think clearly. Now that I turned my head, I could see that it was Daryl who had caught me. He was still holding me upright, hands on my upper arms. He was so close that I could smell him. It was a little like sweat, but there was another layer to it that wasn't altogether unpleasant, yet very distracting. I struggled to make my brain work as Phil watched me curiously. On the ground between us was a machete. My machete, in fact. Bastard must have taken it off my pack. I looked back at Phil, but his face didn't give anything away.

Everyone was watching at this point. Rick was there, as were Carol and Lori. Rick's boy was there, too, but tucked in the shadows behind the half-open stairwell door. The older of the two sisters hovered half a step behind Carol and Lori. Glenn was beside Rick. Suarez stood tensely, ready to jump in if I seemed to be in any danger. He had his small semi-automatic handgun in his hand, but aimed downwards. I remembered when we had found that gun in the nightstand of a couple who had been turned, along with their two small children. They were the first walkers I had killed. Before that, I had just focused on avoiding them. Ah, memories.

I crossed over to my machete, picking it up and feeling its familiar weight in my hand. Looking back to Phil, I offered it to him, handle first, like they teach you in safety classes. His eyebrows pulled together creating a slight crease as he tried to figure out what I was doing.

"Everything you said was spot on. Last thing I want is to have your food and supplies wasted on me, or worse, put any of the rest of you in danger. I'm dying. What difference does it make if it happens today or two days from now?"

"Leesey," Suarez protested, but someone must have stopped him, Rick probably.

"You want to kill me?" I asked him, moving a few steps closer so that I was almost touching him with the handle of the machete. It would be no effort at all for him to reach out and take it. "Do it. Just make it quick. Don't let me feel it." My hand was shaking as I held the machete towards him. "Please!" Phil matched my eye contact through the whole exchange. I could see him thinking about it, struggling with his desire to end my life. I could tell he wanted to, but something was causing him to hesitate. I felt a couple trickles of sweat run down my back as we stood there in the sun, every moment the temperature rising. It was going to be a hot day. He blinked, glancing over my shoulder towards where the guys were standing. Sighing, he looked over at Rick.

"Don't come crawling back to me when you want someone who can do the dirty work for you, when the time comes." Avoiding eye contact with me, he turned and went through the stairwell door. Rick's son moved out of the way, turning to look at me before the door swung shut. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but he didn't seem happy. I turned to slip the machete in the sheath I usually wore on my belt by my hip, forgetting that it wasn't there. Instead, my shirt was clinging to my side, a bright red spot, larger than the size of my open hand and growing, where the bandage was. Suarez really had done a number on my side.

"You should really have Hershel re-bandage that for you," Rick suggested. I opened my mouth to protest, but Suarez was by my side, gripping my arm painfully as he practically dragged me back inside the building. He wasn't going to give me a choice about that one. I guess my moment of self-sacrifice wasn't sitting well with him. I had figured it wouldn't. Damn Phil for not having the balls to just finish this. What the hell had changed his mind?

Twenty minutes later Hershel had me fixed up. I was doing my best to change my shirt, but I was having trouble getting my shirt off without twisting in a way that made my side hurt. I hissed, making a face, when I finally succeeded in getting my shirt over my head. I glanced up to see Daryl in the half-open doorway. He stepped back, dropping his eyes.

"Sorry. I didn't realize." He turned back towards the living room.

"No worries. Lawrence and Suarez've seen me in my bra hundreds of times." He looked back at me, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, no, that came out wrong!" He smirked, laughing at me. I shook my head.

"Hershel didn't offer you anything for the pain? That thing's gotta sting like a bitch," he said, nodding at the bandage just below my ribs. I glanced down at it myself.

"It does, and he did, but it doesn't matter. I wouldn't accept it anyways."

"Gotcha." I picked my fresh t-shirt up off the bed, sliding my arms into the sleeves before trying to get in over my head. It was easier getting this one on than the other off, somehow. I noticed Daryl's eyes lingering on me before Carol came up beside him. He stepped back to give her access to the room. She pushed the door the rest of the way open, looking from him to me, mild confusion on her face.

"I was going to see if you needed a new shirt," she said, indicating one she held in her hand. "I can wash the old one for you, though, before the blood sets in." I looked at her, amused. It didn't make a difference whether the blood set in or not. I'd be dead before I had the chance to wear it again. I looked down at where my bloody tank top lay on the floor.

"It might as well be useful to someone, I suppose. Go ahead." I reached to pick it up, being as gingerly with my side as possible.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking. Forgive me." Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes were wide with horror at her error. I shook my head.

"It's fine, really." Before I could hand her the shirt, she had retreated back down the hallway. Daryl glanced at me before following her back to the living room. I tossed the shirt in the corner by my pack before heading after them. The door to the bedroom across the hall was shut and I didn't see Carol or the two sisters in the living room. Lori and the woman from the foursome group, Kelly, were missing, too. Phil was sitting by the open window, shotgun in his hands, and gave me an ugly look when he saw me. Rick was in the opposite corner, kneeling down in front of his son, talking to him about something. There was a tattered couch and matching armchair in the center of the room. Lawrence was on the couch across from Suarez, who sat in the armchair. Hershel stood talking to his daughter, Beth, near the door to the apartment, and Daryl was leaning on the wall between me and Phil, right by my shoulder. Lawrence turned to look at me as I made a quick assessment of the room. Old habits die hard.

"You heading back up to the roof?" he asked me. I shrugged.

"Might as well make myself useful, right?" I replied, repeating what Daryl had said to me earlier. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye as he smirked at me. He reached over to grab the scoped rifle that was leaning against the wall next to him.

"Are you kidding me?" Phil asked, looking incredulously at his Daryl and then Rick.

"What's she hurting? Huh?" Daryl countered, his tone defensive. "Give me one good reason why not?" Phil squinted at him, but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to the window, shaking his head.

"Here," he said, handing me the rifle. "What I said before still applies."

"Of course," I said, reaching to take the rifle from him. Rick's little boy grabbed a couple water bottles and approachedme. He didn't say anything, but smiled a little at me. How could I refuse. I slipped the bottles into one of the cargo pockets on my pants.

"Thanks," I whispered, humbled. Rick nodded to me, giving me his silent approval. Suarez was furiously studying the floor, apparently still angry with me.

"You sure?" Lawrence asked me, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. I nodded, my eyes on the floor. I needed to get out of this apartment, away from all these eyes. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I hurried across the room and out the door, sighing with relief when it was closed behind me. I hated being the center of attention. Even when it was for a good thing, like a birthday party. It always made me feel anxious. I had always preferred my own company to that of anyone else, and when I did hang out with friends, it was usually only one or two at a time. Voices were coming from the apartment next door. Female voices. I walked over to the door, which was open a little, and listened. I recognized Carol's voice, and the two sisters. They were talking about the dresses and, from what I could tell, were busy trying them on and having some laughs. I smirked. Good for them. It was difficult to find anything to make you happy these days. I was glad they were getting a break from the insanity outside, even if only for a few days. Then I heard Lori's voice. She asked the girls to go in the bedroom with Kelly so she could talk to Carol privately. I glanced towards the stairwell door, wondering if I shouldn't give them some privacy, as well, but my curiosity won out.

"We are dangerously low on food, Carol. I don't know how to make it stretch much further than another two, three days tops."

"The last I looked, we had enough for a whole week, at least!"

"That was before our group doubled in size." There was a pause.

"They didn't bring any food supplies with them?" She seemed hesitant as she spoke. Another pause.

"Not that they're admitting to. I don't think any of us are seeing this as a permanent merging and these others are holding tight to whatever supplies they have with them."

"To be fair, if we were in their shoes, we would do the same thing. You and I haven't really had to deal with being on our own out there. We've always had the security of being in a larger group. Can you even imagine what it would have been like with just you, Rick, and Carl? I think about me, Ed, and Sophia out there, just ourselves, and I can't imagine how tough it would have been. And you know Ed was the sort to have been prepared for a disaster like this. It's survival instinct."

"I get that. Really, I do. But it doesn't change the fact that we'll run out of food before we get out of this city." They were both quiet for a long minute.

"So what do you propose we do?" Lori sighed before responding.

"I don't know. I'm afraid to say anything about it. Things are already so tense." It sounded like someone was moving towards the door and I hurried around the corner, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. This was bad. I hated to think about what would happen if tensions within the group grew worse, especially when the food ran out. My guys were going to have a better chance after I died if they remained with this new group. I needed to smooth things over if I wanted that to happen. Plus, if I was serious about not wanting to be a further burden to these people, I had to find a way to fix this situation. Maybe there was something I could do, some way to help these people survive longer. One last good thing I could do before I had to go.