Thunderous Silence
SyntheticProduct


Chapter Four: Like a Phoenix


PAIN surged through Hope like a flame. She was first aware of it as it started on her back, blossoming through her as it trailed up her back and onto her shoulders. From there it sped down her arms like holy fire, sizzling and searingly painful until reaching the tips of her fingers. They stung furiously before her head gave a dull thud, reminding her where more pain was. For a moment she lay there, her toes curled down into softness as she hissed from the pain. She didn't want to tempt fate and open her eyes; she didn't want to see Hell blazing around her. She could hear talking, quite muffled voices like it was far away but at the same time it felt like the voices were right next to her.

Sophia.

Hope shuttered back, the girl. What happened to the girl? Without a second thought, Hope tried to open her eyes. Her lashes seemed glued together, but she managed to part them slowly. Her eyelids ached to be closed again, ached to shut, but Hope willed them to stay open. Her vision was blurry at best, blobs of whites and yellows. Swirls of grays and browns with rainbow dots filtering through. Trying to raise one hand, the pain swelled in her chest before she silently cried out. Her throat felt dry and tight, no sound escaped it. Using her other arm, she used the strength she had to sit up. Although she strained and shook, eventually she sat up while her strength started to return slowly. As she stared forth, her vision started to return to normal, but not fast enough. Her thoughts always returned Sophia and before she had time to doubt herself, she dragged her legs over the edge of what seemed to be a bed. Her toes touched the wood with a thorough chill running through as she did so.
Her wounded arm hung loosely at her side while her other she used to push herself onto her feet. Hope's equilibrium swayed as her back arched back towards the bed. Her head felt like it was spinning and a sharp pain rain through the right side of her head. Pressing her good hand against the pain, she found a large bandage placed atop it. When she pulled back, dots of crimson blood painted her hand. Nothing made sense. Where was she? Why was she bleeding? She couldn't place why all these things were happening. She had been ready to die, and yet she was standing; bleeding, but standing. Her legs trembled beneath her, knees begging for her to buck. Hope tried to take a step, but fell to her knees. The loud thwap when her knees collided with the hard wood made tears collect in the corners of her eyes. She ducked her head between her legs before using her good arm to push herself up again.

Sophia.

She needed to make sure she was okay. Hope steadied herself as her trembling legs carried her a few steps more. Her feet dragged from behind her, leaving less than stellar balance. Her throat contracted, but she was able to mutter a small: "Damnnit." The small word sent her into a coughing fit before she tumbled down to the ground yet again. Her good hand slipped around her throat, holding it as if it would help anything. Tears spilt from her eyes and distorted her vision as it begun to clear up. She viciously coughed once and then twice more before hauling herself up off the floor, again. Drool dripped down from her mouth to her chin before a bubbling sensation started in her stomach. More drool left her open mouth as the bubbling sensation trickled up her throat. The pounding in her head increased with every step she took until her mouth slowly filled with her own vomit. Without much else to do, Hope leaned forward. The vomit splattered against the wood, splashing back on her toes and washing down the front of her shirt. The pounding in her head was like a drum right next to her ear that shook her head with every thump.

Sophia.

Hope's legs continued to tremble beneath her and she stumbled to the side as she lifted her leg up to step again. This time she forced herself into something and a loud crash echoed through her head. The pounding exceeded everything until that was the only thing she could actually hear. She pushed back at whatever she managed to stumble into a took quick, consecutive steps towards what appeared to be a door. Her feet sloshed in her own vomit and without the stability she wanted, her feet flew out from underneath her. This time, she landed squarely on her back and smashed her head into the floorboards beneath her. Her throat tore open as she screamed in pain. The pounding had stopped and now there was simply a dull thrum that buzzed in her ears. Her vision almost pixelated as she saw triples of things around her. The next thing she knew, she was being lifted up. There was a face of a man, or men, she couldn't really tell. He had her settled against his chest and she felt like she was floating until she landed on a cloud. It took everything she had to push herself up again, but the man pushed her gently back down. She could barely make out that he was talking to her, but she couldn't hear him only see that his mouth was moving. Hope twisted from the man's grip and tried to force her way up, but another set of hands held her down. She shrieked in pain as the pain in the arm the hands were holding seared in agony starting from her shoulder and phasing down into her wrist. The dull thrum had become a steady bass line in her ears.
She forced the words: "Sophia?" out, but couldn't hear her own voice. She knew she had said it, her brain was telling her she did, but there was no sound except for the steady bass line. She twisted her head violently to see two more men standing by her other side. One was holding down her arm and the other had something in his hands. Her vision blackened and restarted again, then the man was pushing something into her arm. She thrashed and screamed at the pain when the other man tightened the hold on her bad arm. She wanted to plead with them, but she couldn't even hear herself; what if she said something wrong? What if they didn't speak English? There was no amount to the endless possibilities, but she felt her body relax without her wanting it to. Her head lobbed to the side and her vision flickered out until there was only blackness and the steady bass line ringing in her ears.


Hope's eyes were heavy once again, but she opened them quickly. Her vision had returned, though it was still fuzzy around the edges and the ringing in her ears was just an annoyance rather than a hinderance. She stared up at the white ceiling, squeezing them shut and hoped it was a dream, but when she reopened them she was still in the room with the white ceiling. Tears boiled in her eyes, but she pushed them back with only the thought of Sophia. She twisted her head towards where she remembered the door being and met eyes with someone she had never seen before. Hope barely made the faces out of the three men that were there before, but this new face was that of a woman. She had a pretty face with chocolate brown eyes and thin, brown hair that reached her shoulders. She was smiling and Hope didn't know whether to smile back or not. Just because she has a pretty face and is smiling doesn't mean that she's necessarily a good person.

"Mornin'," the woman spoke with a clear Georgian accent, "we didn't know when you'd get around to wakin' up, so we just have a glass of water here for ya'." The woman set down what looked to be a thick bound book before picking up a clear glass. Hope looked from the glass to the woman's face as she neared Hope. Water did sound good and her throat practically begged to be sated. The woman wrapped an arm gently around Hope's shoulders and helped to bring her into a sitting position before bringing the glass to Hope's chapped lips. At first, her mouth didn't respond to her wants; it kept close like it was taped shut. On the second try, she realized that her lips were so dry that they had managed to stick together. The pain was nothing compared to the pain she was in earlier, so it was momentarily forgotten as she pressed her lips to the glass's rim. The woman helped tip back the glass and Hope drank at it greedily. She didn't even notice that she drank all the water until she made a loud sucking noise. Hope leaned away from the glass as the woman laughed dryly, "there is more where that came from, but that water needs to settle in your stomach first and foremost." The woman placed the glass down before picking up a pillow and stuffing it behind Hope's back, efficiently sitting Hope up without the woman's help.

"You got a name?" Hope watched as the woman settled back in her chair, a smile stretched over her plump lips, "you kinda look like a Samantha to me." The woman laughed at her own little joke while Hope continued to stare at her. The woman coughed slightly before returning to her former smile, "hm?" Hope glanced around the room once again, taking note of the window that was situated on the opposite side of the bed and the fact that the door was directly behind the seated woman. Then, and only then, Hope looked back at the woman before parting her lips. No sound came from her throat and Hope felt her eyebrows knit together in confusion. She cautiously touched her good hand to her throat and rubbed along it before trying again, "H...Hope." Even to her own ears she sounded terrible. Not only was it scratchy and worn, but it was pitchy and her words trembled to leave her throat, "my n...name is H...Hope."

The woman's smile widened, if it was possible, "nice ta' meet ya' Hope, my names Maggie. It's a real sight to see you join the land of the living, you know, by not being one of them." Maggie chuckled at her own joke, again while Hope withheld the desire to roll her eyes and besides, Hope didn't know if she could do that without her eyes falling out. Maggie slowly stopped chuckling and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, "we couldn't really move ya' before, you being all knocked out and with all those injuries, but now that you're awake how about we get you cleaned up?" Hope glanced down and sneered, the vomit had dried on her shirt and with all the moving had started to flake. Hope nodded her head, not trusting her voice. Maggie's eyes lit up at the respond as she stood up, "'Kay you stay right there, no trying to move or nothin' because we don't want your head to start acting up again, okay? I'll get fetch some warm water, a rag, and some clean clothes." There was no chance for arguing nor was there a chance to affirm what Hope had just heard as Maggie simply got up and left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Hope glanced at the window again, taking note that it was already open since the white curtains were moving along with the breeze that was filtering in. It was a cool breeze, but Hope knew that it was muggy out; the heat was soaking into her skin like a bad rash. Hope leaned her head back against the propped up pillow, groaning slightly as her neck stretched out. She caught that Maggie said 'all those injuries' and Hope curiously looked down. Her arms were covered in gashes, some stitched up by the looks of it, while there were some cuts and bruises lining her arm as well. One of her fingers was in a, what looked to be, a splint. She counted that on both hands that five of the tips of her fingers were wrapped in gauze, probably from her ripping her fingernails in a crazed effort to ripe off those boards, before she threw herself out the window. She noticed that her other arm was feeling quite better and moved her shoulder in a small circle before wincing at the dull pain; she must've dislocated it and they popped it back into place. Maybe her screaming as that man held it down gave it away. Arching forward, she noticed that even her back cut had been bandaged. Hope sighed in relief and sagged her body down into the bed. That didn't explain the pounding in her head though. Tentatively Hope reached out with two fingers and pressed against the bandage, only to have Maggie's curt voice scare her: "Don't touch that!" Hope's hand flew down onto the bed as she whipped her head towards the door.

Maggie and a young woman stood at the threshold of the door now. The young woman, or girl, had long blonde hair and large doe eyes that stared at her like she was an animal at the zoo. Maggie beckoned the other girl into the room before setting down a large bowl of steaming water, a rag already soaking in it.

"I didn't know what size you wore, so I got you one of my shirts," she held it up for approval; it was a spaghetti strapped shirt that was a dirty white, "and a pair of shorts, these are my sister's though. I don't own any stretchy pants." Again, Maggie held up what she was talking about. They looked like workout shorts that were black and shiny. Hope nodded her head, "t...thanks." Maggie looked pleased with herself as she pushed forward the other girl, "this is my sister Beth, Beth this is Hope."

"Howdy." Her voice was small and cute. She reminded Hope of her sister in the way of appearance, but everything else? That'd yet to be decided, "well I'll leave you to it Mags." Beth gave Hope a small goodbye wave before leaving, closing the door behind her. Her petite footsteps carried down a hall until Hope couldn't hear her anymore.

"She's real shy, don't take offense."

"N..non...none taken."

"Okay, well let's clean you up and change your clothes shall we?" Maggie sat on the edge of the bed, "arms up!" Hope pulled her arms slowly up, feeling them tremble and stopping when there was a lick of pain. Maggie tugged the end of Hope's shirt up and over head with some difficulty, not that Hope was complaining because she would never be able to get it off by herself. Hope silently thanked God she hadn't given up on wearing bras during the Apocalypse, even if it was dirty and covered in swear; probably smelt like that too in all honesty. Maggie smiled and grabbed the soaked rag from the bowl before ringing it out, "I'll let you do your front, get all clean an' stuff."

"T...thanks." Hope gently grabbed the rag from Maggie's hold and pressed it down on her clavicle, shuttering at the feeling with becoming wet and the breeze from the window. The water that dripped down was warm and Hope hurried from her clavicles, dragging the rag down and scrapping off any dirt, to the valley of her breasts. She dipped inside her bra and wiped down the underside of her breast before giving it back to Maggie. She dunked it in the bowl, rang it out, and handed it back. They repeated the process several times until Maggie had her sit up, with little help from Maggie, as the woman wiped down Hope's back, shoulders, neck, and arms. Maggie was impossibly gentle when going over any injury, even the bruises she even wiped down Hope's hands.

"When you're all better, you can take a shower and wash your hair." Hope nodded, a shower sounded really nice. Maggie picked up the shirt and helped Hope slide it on, "obviously, your boobs are a little bigger than mine." Maggie joked as Hope embarrassingly tried to cover up. The spaghetti strap shirt was tight around her chest, flattening her boobs until they almost poured over the top. Hope pulled it up, solving the issue for now. They moved onto her legs next, Hope was able to shimmy off her pants with no assistance, and was allowed to clean along her bikini line before Maggie took over and wiped down from Hope's thighs to her toes. The shorts were easy enough to slide on and they fit well enough, but Hope thanked God (once again) that they were stretchy or else they wouldn't have made it over her thighs or butt.

"Daddy said he'd be coming up shortly with some food and more water. Rick said he'd like to talk to you too, so don't be surprised if two strange men come walkin' on in here." Maggie gathered up Hope's soiled clothes before dumping them into a hamper. She sat down once again, smiling, "feeling better?"

"Yes'm, th...thanks for the help."

Maggie waved her hand dismissively in front of her face, "no worries, no worries."

It was less than a few minutes before the bedroom door opened. An older man with a head and beard full of white hair walked in, he was stout looking, but kind. Another man walked in slowly behind him; he was good-looking with a nice smile. He had brown hair and stumble that covered his jaw. These must be the two she was talking about, but she was surprised to see a third man walk in behind the two. He had buzzed down hair, what appeared to be a once broken nose, and a mouth that was tightened into a thin line; he looked mean, vicious almost like a feral dog that was contemplating whether or not to attack. Hope's eyes shot over to Maggie and she smiled, although this smile was different. It looks like she wasn't expecting a third man either.

"That's my Daddy, Herschel, he's the one that fixed you up," she pointed at the older man and he nodded his head in turn, "those two are Rick and Shane; Daryl, who's not here, helped carry you back with Rick." Hope nodded, "t...thanks fo...for that." A lot of names and a lot of information was just told. The nice looking one, Rick, stepped forward and spoke: "one of our own shot you," Hope's eyes enlarged with the mentioned of being shot, "she managed to graze you, thank God her aim isn't all that great." Hope silently agreed; she was thanking God a lot today. Herschel walked around the bed and checked out her arm as Rick continued to talk.

"Sophia told us that you found her? Told us some extravagant story about how you took down three walkers with one bullet and a knife." Hope smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but a cry of discomfort left before words. Herschel pulled back his hands, "sorry, sorry, I was jus' checking out this gash I had to stitch up."

"I f...found Sophia in a clearing," Hope started, "s...she was being chased by t...three walkers, that's w...what she said y...you all called t...them." Rick smiled, "yes ma'am we do."

"How'd you kill them?" Shane sneered. Hope glanced over to him and felt three feet smaller, "I had a bullet, a bullet, l...left in the chamb..chamber and shot the closest o...one to her," she paused and sucked in air, "t...then I managed, managed, to sh...shank the other two."

"What are you? Armed forces?" He continued his interrogation. Hope shook her head, "just a person who, who saw a l...little girl in t...t...trouble." Her throat swelled shut and she began coughing. A glass was pressed against her lips and she nodded gratefully at Maggie before chugging down the water, "thanks." Her voice sounded much better to her own ears.

"How did you get all these injuries?" Rick asked quietly, he was leaning against the wall closest to her. He looked genuinely curious and Hope was happy to oblige.

"I jumped out a two story window through glass and landed wrong." Hope stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Everyone was stunned into silence until Rick began laughing, "and why would you do that?"

"Got stuck in a house flooding with walkers, cornered myself in a bedroom. It was either jump or get eaten."

"You couldn't have opened the window before jumping?"

"Walkers broke into the room, there... there was no time."

"And where was Sophia?" Shane's gruff voice called out. He was standing straight as board in front of the door, like he was expecting her to try and escape. Hope couldn't help, but smile at that, "in a tree, safe." It was the shortened version of a long story, but Shane didn't seem content.

"And why was she in a tree?"

Before Hope could utter a single word, Maggie came to her defense: "Does it really matter? She was high up and safe, that's all that matters." Rick hummed his appreciation, "it's as Maggie said, besides I think Sophia's exact words were she was like a damn action star; I think Carol had a heart attack at hearing her baby girl say damn." Hope coughed in embarrassment. She did cuss a lot around Sophia, she would be more surprised if she didn't pick up a thing or two.

"You alone or with a group?" Shane further questioned, "can't image a reckless little thing like you being out there all alone." Hope froze at that question. Her families faces shifted through her mind like a movie, "they're dead."

"They turn?"

A lump was caught in her throat as she thought about her father, but she hissed out: "yes."

"And you got out scotch free? I can't believe that." Shane stated. Hope was chilled under his gaze as tears formed in her eyes, "none of them had ever killed walkers before, I had." Which was partially true, the other half was how were they to know to kill her sister? She was sick. She turned. She bit. Hope shot. He turned. He bit. Hope shot. And then she shot twice more. Their eyes were burnt into her memory like a smoking cigarette.

"I'm sorry you went through that." Rick sympathetically said, looking down and away from her as her eyes burned with tears. She sniffled them back, "we all go through it." She looked towards Maggie and saw that the woman didn't look her in the eye. Herschel prodded at her head wound, which made her hiss.

"Well at least it isn't bleeding anymore, but the shock must've thrown ya' out; can't imagine anythin' else happenin' to someone." Herschel got up from the bed and showed Hope that he brought up a thin sandwich, "something that'll go down easy and hopefully stay down. Maggie, stay here will ya'? I'ma going to get Carol and Sophia. Rick, Shane, I think this lil' interrogation is finished. She needs rest and food, not stress and a change in her mood." Part of Hope wanted to joke that he rhymed, but kept her mouth shut until the three men left the room.

"Eat up, it'll help your recovery." Maggie stated, placing the plate on Hope's lap. Hope wanted to tear into it viciously, but settled with small bites and nibbles with the occasional wash down with a sip of water. Maggie watched, "did you really kill them?" Hope froze mid-bite and set down the sandwich before looking towards Maggie. She still had her head down when she asked.

"It was either that or be killed."

"What if there's a cure?" Maggie asked as she picked at a loose thread on her shirt. Hope wondered that for days after she had done it, but her mind always came to the same conclusion.

"One got bit so viciously that he had his throat torn out," Hope realized that her voice was low and nearly monotonous, "the other had a chunk of his arm ripped out, you could see the muscle and sinew."

"What about the other one?" Her face was pale when she asked.

Hope leaned back into the pillow, "she was really sick before. Coughing up blood and pale, her bones were really brittle and we had to carry her on a stretcher; I wouldn't want her to come back and be in that pain again."

"But that isn't your decision, wouldn't she want to be alive?"

Hope felt something snap, "well it ain't exactly your choice either. You weren't there. You didn't see the blood and pain. I hope to God you never do." Maggie didn't quiet down after that, "what if she could get treated for her sickness afterwards?" The last bit of pleasantry died when Maggie asked that. She pictured her sister's face before she died, it was twisted in pain and for the first time in a long time she smiled at Hope. Her last words were I love you and then she died. She died and then she came back, maybe this was all God's grand plan.

The last piece of holding her together was severed as heat rose from her chest, "stop it! Stop trying to make me more guilty than I feel! They are dead, they were dead when they were bit," Hope couldn't help but sweep the plate from her lap, the plate shattering on the floor, "leave if you want to keep taunting me, I don't need it." Hope hissed through clenched teeth. Her head ached with sudden emotions that were coursing through her. The anger, the guilt, the sadness, and lastly, the pain. Hope's breathing accelerated and her throat tightened until a warm hand began to soothe her, rubbing her back in small circles. When Hope's breathing returned to normal, the warm hand left her back and Hope saw Maggie bending over, picking up the pieces of the shattered plate. Hope slid down into the bed, hot tears bubbling from beneath her eyes. She quietly sniffled and pushed back the tears with the back of her wrist.

"I'm sorry, what I saw was insensitive." Hope heard the door open and close. With that, Hope was alone.


Without even knowing it, Hope had fallen asleep. When she awoke, she found that her eyes were easier to open and that there was a distinct weight on her left side. Glancing down, Hope's heart took a sudden hold; Sophia was curled into her side, eyes closed, with her chest heaving.

"I'm sorry, Sophia didn't want to leave your side," Hope's head snapped up and met with the kind smile of a woman, "I'm really grateful for you, you got my sweet baby back." This must've been Sophia's mom. Sophia wasn't lying when she said she was pretty. With short grey hair that had wisps of curls over her forehead and kind, pale blue eyes. Hope lifted her arm and brushed some hair from Sophia's face, "it's what anyone would do."

"You got my baby girl back safely, soundly. She doesn't even have a scratch on her and you're the one laying in bed, all scratched up; thank you." Sophia's mom hopped from one foot to the other, Hope would've called it a nervous tick if it weren't for the smile on her face. Hope shrugged and let her arm go limp at her side.

"I'm Carol Peletier, I owe you more than I could ever give." She held out her hand for Hope to shake. Hope clasped a hand with Carol, "I'm Hope Whittle, and you owe me nothing."

Sophia shifted at Hope's side before the small girl gripped Hope's wrist with both of her hands, "Hope?" Her eyes were fluttering open and a yawn ripped from her parted lips. Hope smiled down, "hey Sophia."

"Hope!" A wide grin spread across her lips before Hope found herself in a bone-crushing hug from the small girl. Her fingers grasped Hope's shoulder blades and her head buried into her neck, "you're really, really okay!" Hope chuckled and patted Sophia's back awkwardly, "Yep I'm really, really okay." And in that moment, she really was.