Tattoos and Tears
Chapter 10: Into the Darkness
Beryl tells me she's hungry, I had locked us away for the night without any dinner. I take her hand as we walk down the stairs, Hershel waiting for me at the bottom.
"You can't hide from your pain Bobbi Jo; it will always be with you. You need to surround yourself with people that care about you and Beryl. Go on in the kitchen and help the girls, it will do you some good." He gives me a quick hug, his blue eyes holding so much wisdom and strength.
Waiting for Shane and Otis to come back, I help Beth and Maggie with dinner. Patricia helps Hershel look after Carl, the small boy not looking so good.
I take Rick and Lori a sandwich, Hershel insisting Rick eats to keep his strength up. The worried parents wait by Carl's beside, Loir sitting on the bed with him. I hear Rick tell Lori a story about Shane, probably to calm her nerves and reassure her Shane will be back with the equipment to safe Carl's life.
Beryl runs in the room, her little smile lighting up her face. "Who are you sweetie?" Lori wipes her tears, smiling back at my daughter.
"I is Beryl." She giggles out, her auburn locks tossing about as she swishes her head from side to side.
Taking her hand, I tell her to leave them alone. Lori looks up at me, her eyes filling with tears again. "She's beautiful, she yours?"
"Yes and she's a handful. Sorry to bother you." I turn to go when Lori thanks me for my kindness, Rick doing the same.
Beryl releases my hand, running to Beth. I can see the bond they have already, Beth is so good with her.
Maggie looks over to Patricia, both of us knowing how worried she was. We decide to keep her busy, hoping the preoccupation keeps her mind from wandering.
After dinner Maggie and I go to sit on the porch, both of us thinking the same thing. Shane and Otis may not come back at all.
I hear the sound of a car approaching, Maggie telling me it must be Rick's people. I wasn't sure if I was ready for more people, but from the looks of them they needed our help.
Maggie plays coy with the Asian boy that walks on the porch with a black man. As we stand, we see a wound on the black man's arm; he quickly assures us it's not a bite.
The Asian boy gives Maggie some painkillers and antibiotics he has, the both of them looking wore out.
She tells them to come inside, I move past her and head to the kitchen to make them something to eat.
They stop off by the bedroom where Carl is, the look on their faces giving away their concern. These people had made a family; they care for each other and felt each other's pain.
I eat up a plate for the two men, both of them thanking me. The Asian boy speaks up first, his eyes carrying the burden of this new world.
"I'm Glenn; this is T-Dog … thank you for helping us." I sit the plates down, smiling back at them.
"Don't thank me, thank Maggie … thank Hershel. This is their farm; I'm just a guest here too. Name's Bobbi Jo and this is my little girl Beryl." I point to the sleeping child in the next room, Glenn smiling back at me.
Carl wakes up, his coughing gaining my attention. The happy moment with Rick and Lori doesn't last long as the boy begins to have a seizure, my heart sinking in my chest.
I hear Hershel tell Rick that Carl's blood isn't getting enough blood, that he needs another transfusion. Hershel doesn't want to take any more blood from Rick, worrying he won't survive it.
As Hershel prepares to take more blood from Rick, I step in the room and volunteer. "Hershel, I can give him blood … I'm O positive."
He turns and looks at me, Rick and Lori both staring at me. Hershel shakes his head, absolutely refusing. "You're pregnant; I can't take your blood. You could become anemic and that could harm the baby."
I sit in the chair next to Rick, rolling up my sleeve. "Take half from Rick and half from me. That could be Beryl someday, I want to do this."
Lori whispers thank you to me, Rick's blue eyes locked on my face. "You don't have to do this … you don't owe us anythang."
A single tear rolls down my face, my bottom lip trembling. "No, I don't, but I won't sit here and let your little boy die either."
Hershel preps my arm, the needle hurting so bad I tear up again. "I won't take much, just enough to keep Rick from getting sick."
"Take what you need Hershel … please." Turning my head, I bite hard into my bottom lip.
My head becomes a little woozy as I sit there, Hershel only taking have the bottle from me. "I can give more."
"No, you need to go rest now." Hershel gives me a stern glare as he places the cleaned needle in Rick's arm.
Maggie helps me make it to the living room, Beryl still sleeping. Patricia is getting out the suturing kit, T-Dog's arm needing more than a few stitches.
I lean my head back on the high back chair, my arm throbbing. My eyes close shut, the blood lost making me tired. As I'm about to drift off to sleep, I hear Merle's name and then Daryl's.
I get up too quickly from the chair, falling over. Beth runs to me, helping me back up. "Let me and Jimmy help you upstairs."
"No … take me in there." I point my finger to the dining room, my eyes tearing up.
Glenn walks right past me, Maggie following him out. I sit down beside Patricia as she finishes up the stitches.
"Honey, you need to eat somethang … maybe get a glass of orange juice." T-Dog winches as Patricia finishes the last stitch, my mind racing.
"How do you know Merle and Daryl Dixon?" The words fly out of my mouth, tears burning my eyes.
"They were in our camp, Daryl still is. Why?" T-Dog gives me the once over, not sure what I'm getting at.
"This Merle, he a surly, mouthy, bigoted asshole of a redneck and walking around with one hand now?" I lean towards him, his brown eyes growing bigger.
"Yeah and his brother Daryl was like him, loud mouth redneck that followed his brother round. How the hell do you know them?" Patricia places a bandage over the stitches, her face showing concern for me.
I lean back in my chair, my hand rubbing my belly. He looks down at my hand, watching me rub my baby bump. "Oh Lawd …did one of those assholes rape you?"
"Language … we don't talk like that here." Patricia scolds him, T-Dog looking very pissed.
I start to cry, my tears flowing. "No ... that ain't it." I wipe my tears when Patricia reaches over to take my hand.
"Honey … is that your Daryl he's talkin about?" I squeeze her hand back, nodding my head.
"I'll be … you and Daryl Dixon had a thang?" I look up to T-Dog, my body feeling numb.
"He's … he's my husband." A blast of heat hits me, making it hard to catch my breath. I start to hyperventilate when Maggie walks back in.
Patricia tries to calm me, her eyes darting to Maggie. "We need to get some juice in her; she's going to pass out."
Looking up at Maggie, the room goes dark and I tip forward.
X~X~X
With the sound of Carol crying in the next room and Andrea cleaning the guns, I know I'm not going to find sleep.
I hated the idea of that little girl begin out there alone and scared. If that were my Beryl I wouldn't be lying here, I wouldn't let anything or anyone stop me.
I get up, strap my crossbow on and get ready to go back out there, give it one more shot before sunrise.
Andrea is loading the clips to the guns when I tell her I need mine. She hands it to me, giving me this curious look.
Dale is keeping watch on top of the RV as I exit, Andrea coming out right behind me.
Andrea decides to come with me, Dale voicing his doubts yet again. After Andrea gives him her death stare, we walk up the highway a bit, shining our flashlights in the woods.
Walking through the woods, Andrea gives me this look and asks if I think we'll find Sophia.
I was amazed at the lack of faith these people had, even her own mother was giving up.
The story of when I got lost in the woods comes to mind, a story I had told B.J. a few times. When I get to the part about getting an itchy ass from wiping it with poison oak, Bobbi Jo would light up like the sky on the fourth of July. Her smile, her laughter, it always made my bad day better and my okay days good.
I tell this story to Andrea, letting her know you can get lost out here and survive. I suppose that was before, before the dead walked around.
We walk on a little further up, the crickets making they're night music. A rustling comes from beside us, my natural hunter instincts kicking in.
Making our way carefully towards the noise, we come into a camp and a walker swigging from a tree. The stupid bastard tried to off himself by hanging, guess he didn't know it had to be the brain. The flesh from his legs had been stripped clean; he became walker dinner before he became a walker too.
Looking around, I see a sign and read it out loud. "Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit."
Andrea bends over, the smell of the swinging corpse getting to her. I tell her puke if she's gotta.
As I'm talking away about the walker she asks how I learn how to shoot. Walkers and us, we got that in common …we both have to eat.
She hurls in her hand, the smell and my comments too much for her. I tell her it's payback for laughing at my itch ass story.
I'm ready to head back when Andrea asks if I'm going to kill the walker. I really didn't want to waste an arrow on someone that opted out. He made his choice; I was ready to leave him there.
While Andrea is standing there staring at the walker I walk up to her and ask her if she wants to live now. She turns back to me, her eyes telling me she does.
"An answer for an arrow … fair?" I agree to put a bolt through the stupid son of a bitch's head. "I don't know if I want to life or if I have to or if it's just a habit."
"Not much of an answer." She answered me, even if it was half-assed so I kill the walker for her. "Waste of an arrow."
The trip back to the RV was a silent one, Andrea out of questions and remarks. I can hear B.J.'s calling out to me, her laughter ringing through the woods. I know it's just my mind playing tricks on my mind, but in my heart it feels all too real.
Looking at Dale, real bad that I didn't find any trace of Sophia; it was frustrating to come back with no answers for Carol.
All I can do now is try to get some sleep and wait for morning.