His eyes were closed, his body shivering with cold. She could hear his teeth chattering behind blue lips. They were both soaked to the bone but at least the driving rain had slowed to a drizzle. They were huddled in a bus shelter that was all the shelter Carol had been able to find.
It had taken all of her energy just to drag the man up to the road away from the surging river. She had tried to be conscious of the damage to his legs but this only caused her to feel sick with sympathy as she gripped him under the arms and his legs dragged across the uneven ground. He'd groaned softly in pain at each bump in the uneven ground but Carol merely gritted her teeth, knowing she had no choice. Her arms were burning from the effort and she had tried to adjust her grip on him, nearly dropping his dead weight to the sodden ground. It only took a few more steps before she realised the groaning had stopped.
"Daryl?" Carol gasped struggling to hold him and see his face at the same time. "Daryl!"
There was no response. His eyes were closed and his face slack. A part of her was relieved he was unconscious, at least he wasn't suffering the pain of being dragged across the ground anymore but the fact that he was unconscious caused a crippling fear that gripped tight inside her stomach. She was alone and she was way out of her depth, the little that Hershel had absently shown her on and off in the months since the farm in no way prepared her for this.
In the bus shelter the wind still blew in the rain but she dragged Daryl into the corner where it was at least a little protected. She tried to examine his legs but the infrequent flashes of lightning wasn't enough light to see by and she gave up. She had no choice but to wait for daylight. His eyes were still closed and his whole body shivering with cold. She pulled him into her own shaking arms and wrapped her body around his – mindful of his injuries – to try and use their body heat to warm them both. Until the storm broke and the sun rose this was all she could do.
Carol jerked awake having no memory of falling asleep. Her cheek lay against Daryl's hair, his head was resting on her chest and her arms were wrapped tightly around him. Her whole body ached from spending the night on cement and the cold was firmly imbedded in her bones. She longed for a long hot shower or a scalding hot cup of coffee something to remind her weary, frozen body that it wouldn't always feel this way. That it may be possible to feel warm again.
The rain had died off sometime in the early hours before sunrise. The clouds were still low and heavy though threatening further downpours. There would be no sight of the sun today to warm them. The wind had blown itself out and the only sound she could hear was the roar from the swollen river somewhere behind them. Carol groaned as she forced her aching limbs into action and eased herself out from under Daryl, trying to disturb him as little as possible. He was still out of it but he was breathing easily as far as she could tell and his pulse was strong. This gave her some comfort as she turned to his legs. The material was stiff with blood as she tried to shift the torn parts side to see the wounds. She winced in sympathy when the material stuck but with a quick glance at Daryl's unresponsive face she continued to ease it back her fingers becoming red with his blood.
Her stomach turned over once she had a clearer view. There were several deep wounds but his left leg had borne the brunt of it. The one that concerned her most was a deep slash that ran up his calf beside his knee and deep into his thigh. She swallowed hard when she shifted the torn fabric further and saw a glint of white in amongst the mess of his flesh, his bone. Blood was still leaking from the wound and the cement beneath his legs was stained with it. Carol stripped off her jacket and quickly removed her sweater and shirt. Left with only her bra she put her jacket back on shivering when the wet, course material touched her bare skin. She tore the sweater and shirt into strips and wrapped the worst of the wound as best she could. Fearful of him losing any more blood she tied them as tightly as she could. It was as she was doing this that he finally came around. He hissed in pain, jerking upright as she tied the final knot.
"It's alright," Carol said quickly, soothingly. "I'm done."
He looked down at his legs in confusion, he was white to the lips and Carol studied him nervously. She had no way of telling just how much blood he had lost.
"This feels familiar doesn't it?" she tried to joke, reaching out to brush his damp hair back from his eyes. Her fingers left a bloody smear and she quickly used the cuff of her jacket to wipe it away.
"Bit backwards," he rasped.
Carol wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hide her shivers, and looked around as she sat back on her feet. "We'll have to move," she said after a moment. "We both need to dry out properly and those wounds need to be cleaned and a few of them stitched."
Daryl nodded and went to lever himself upright but Carol quickly stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Easy Rambo, I need to know where to take you before I get you up."
"Yeh not goin alone," Daryl muttered.
"Until we get you sorted out you're not going to be much good anyway," Carol replied smoothly. "I'm going to look up the road, try and find out if we're near any houses or a town or something. At least get some idea of where we are and if we might be able to find the others. Does your crossbow still work?"
Daryl glanced down blearily to where the weapon sat near his side. Pulling it towards him he examined it, his face twisting in a grimace. "Needs some fixen but it'll do," he said at last and looked around. Most of the arrows Jenna had given him were gone; he only had a couple left.
"I lost my gun in the river," Carol said apologetically and Daryl frowned. It wasn't her fault. "Do you still have yours?"
Daryl felt around behind him and shook his head. "Nope, but I've still got me knife and me pocket knife." He shifted painfully as he pulled the knife free and handed it to her. "Take it," he snarled when she hesitated. "If yer wanderin around out there ya need ta have a weapon with ya."
"What about you?" she protested. "I can't leave you here defenceless."
"I've got some arrows and me pocket knife still, just take it."
She bit her lip but at last accepted the knife, "Thanks."
Standing up she left the bus shelter and walked the short distance up to the road without looking back. Glancing left and right she shrugged to herself and picked a direction at random. She had no idea where she was or where she was going so reasoned that any direction was bound to get her there.
She stumbled along the road, favouring her wounded leg, her eyes darting in every direction warily. Every sound made her jump and she gripped Daryl's knife tightly in her hand but there was nothing to be seen. The wind was bitingly chill and she crossed her arms across her chest as she walked. She felt like she had been walking for hours and was worried at how long she had left Daryl alone when she rounded a corner and saw a farmhouse ahead that had been just as much a victim of the storm as they had.
A large tree had fallen across the middle of the house flattening the roof and shattering the walls. She glanced around the scene cautiously before making her way towards the house. Perhaps there was something she could salvage from the wreckage that could help them. It was only as she neared the house that she saw the pickup truck tucked in behind it.
She veered around the shattered house and made her way to the truck instead. She laughed out loud in relief to see that the pickup was intact. It would take a bit of manoeuvring to get it out through the thick branches of the fallen tree but assuming it would start it was the answer to her prayers. With it she'd be able to get Daryl to a position of relative safety where she could treat his wounds properly.
There was a shed near the house that was relatively unscathed. Using a rock from the nearby garden she snapped off the rusty lock and wrenched the old door open. An axe was propped up by the door and Carol snatched it up. Back at the pickup truck she began hacking away at the thick branches that blocked the pickup's exit. Though the day was cool and overcast she had soon worked up a sweat and was suddenly glad she had no garments on under her jacket.
She was taking a break and examining the rising blisters on her palms when she heard it, a thin, weak voice calling for help. Carol pushed off the branch she was leaning against looking towards the house in alarm. It sounded like a child. Abandoning caution Carol began to scramble across the wreckage towards the sound.
Suddenly there was a snarling sound near her foot and Carol gasped and leaped back. A hand was scrambling to catch hold of her ankle and she could see the dead face growling up at her. The woman's body was mostly obscured by debris from the house but Carol could see that she had been badly crushed from the waist down and a splintered beam had passed clear through her chest pinning the walker in place.
Breathing hard Carol manoeuvred past the dead woman, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. The dead woman never stopped trying to grab her.
Carol turned away, trying to listen for the voice again but she could hear nothing. "Where are you?" Carol shouted. "Keep calling, keep making a sound!"
"Help me!" the voice called back. "Please, help!"
Carol eased her way over a fallen beam and looked down into a gap. A small face was looking back up at her. The girl appeared to only be about six or seven; she was dirty but seemed relatively unscathed.
"Hey sweetheart," Carol said, trying to smile. "Are you alright?"
The little girl nodded but didn't speak. She was tucked in the space beneath an old wooden desk which had borne the brunt of the weight of the house as it had come down on top of her. A beam had fallen across the front of it trapping her in the confined space.
"Just hold on sweetheart," Carol gasped and grabbed hold of the beam. "Just cover your head and I'll have you out of there in a second." She tried to lift the beam but it was far too heavy. Still weak from her wound and her dunking in the river and now with the lack of food and proper sleep she was struggling to even keep her trembling limbs upright. She saw the little girl's face looking up at her through a gap between the arms she had obediently put over her head. There was such pleading and desperation in her face for help that Carol knew she couldn't give up. One way or the other she was moving this beam.
She planted her feet and using the remains of a wall as leverage she pushed her weight against the beam. She cried out at the effort and finally felt the beam shift. Carol slumped against it her chest heaving and the shaking in her arms and legs now pronounced. Swallowing hard she tried to ignore her fatigue as she turned and reached down to the little girl.
"Come on sweetheart," Carol said gripping her under the arms as she reached up for Carol. "I've got you."
The girl put her arms around Carol's neck and clung to her. Carol realised the girl wasn't going to let go and so held her close as she carried her from the wreckage though it made it harder to walk uncross the uneven surface. She twisted slightly as they passed the pinned walker so that the little girl wouldn't see her. Carol could only assume the walker was the girl's mother and her heart ached for the child.
At the pickup there was no way to open the passenger door and so Carol carried the girl around to the driver's side and settled her on the seat. The girl wiped her tear streaked face and smiled shakily at Carol.
"Thank you," the girl whispered.
"Was there anyone else in the house with you honey?" Carol asked gently, tucking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind the girl's ear.
"Just my mum," the girl replied. Tears fell from her eyes again but her voice was calm as she added, "She died when the roof fell on us."
"I'm very sorry," Carol said sadly uncertain what she could say to the child that would comfort her. "What's your name?" Carol asked.
"Rose," the girl replied. Her voice was muffled as she chewed on the collar of her shirt. Judging by the state of it Carol deduced this was something she did a lot.
"That's a pretty name."
"My Nana was Rose," the girl said. Tears were still on her dirty cheeks but no new ones had fallen. "She's dead too. She tried to bite me once and Dad shot her."
Carol stared at the girl at a loss for words. One of the things that terrified her most about this new world was how desensitised children - and adults for that matter - were becoming to death. "I'm sorry to hear that," Carol replied. "But you know that wasn't really your Nana who tried to bite you?"
Rose nodded but had resumed chewing on her collar and didn't answer.
"Is there anyone else with you?" Carol asked. "Any other family you have? Where is your dad?"
Rose just shrugged and shook her head.
"Alright, well you can stay with me for a while. I'll just get this pickup out of here and we'll go and get my friend." Carol hesitated wondering how Rose would take to Daryl. The exterior of the man didn't exactly reflect the heart inside him. "He won't hurt you. He's not very well at the moment but when he gets better he'll help look after us. You won't need to be scared when he's there." She took Rose's hand between both of hers. "We'll look after you okay?"
Rose nodded again. "Thanks," she mumbled.
"I'm Carol."
Rose pulled her hand out of Carol's and suddenly leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Carol's neck. Carol closed her eyes as she hugged the little girl. She rubbed the girl's back and the movement was so reminiscent of when she had used to comfort Sophia that tears pricked her eyes. She forced back the emotions blaming her weariness as she pulled back from Rose.
"Just sit tight sweetheart," Carol said squeezing her shoulder. "I'll get rid of a few more of these branches and we'll get out of here."
She was already conscious of the amount of time she'd been away from Daryl. He'd be worried out of his mind and furious at his inability to come after her. She knew his anger would only grow the longer he had to wait and she wondered how he would react when he saw Rose. How on earth was she going to look after them both? Glancing back at the girl waiting in the cab of the truck Carol knew she hadn't had a choice. She couldn't have left her.
Carol tried to start the pickup, hoping to use the truck to break some of the weaker branches and force their way out quicker that way. The engine spluttered but didn't catch and for a few heart stopping moments Carol feared it wouldn't start and all her efforts had been wasted. When the engine finally rumbled to life Carol could have wept in relief, never had there been a sweeter sound!
It took more chopping and pushing with the bonnet of the truck before the last of the branches gave way and they were clear. What had felt like hours when walking became less than twenty minutes as Carol raced back down the road to where she left Daryl.
Like she had anticipated he was sitting upright and waiting, but the anger had vanished at the sound of the truck.
"I got us a car," Carol said quickly before he could speak. "Reckon you can get to it?"
Daryl nodded and began to lever himself upright. Carol ran to his side and put his arm around her shoulders, letting him lean onto her. His weight was nearly too much for her shaking legs but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand. His left leg wouldn't take any weight and his right wasn't much better but somehow they managed to hobble towards the cab of the truck.
"Somethin else ya got us?" Daryl muttered his voice tight with pain and Carol glanced up to see Rose watching them approach with wide eyes.
"The house she was in collapsed during the storm. Her mother was dead, I couldn't exactly leave her."
Daryl grunted but didn't answer. Glancing up at him she saw a thin sheen of sweat over his pale face and his eyes seemed glazed and unfocused. Fear gripped her but she forced herself to focus. With the car she'd be able to get him somewhere warm and dry, get him cleaned up and hopefully find some food. Once she'd done that he'd start to get better. He had to.
She opened the passenger door and Rose scooted back as far as the opposite door. "It's alright Rose," Carol gasped struggling to support Daryl who seemed to be getting heavier by the second. "This is the friend I told you about remember? This is Daryl."
Rose just stared as Carol tried to get Daryl into the cab of the truck. At one point his trailing left leg hit the side of the car and he cried out briefly in pain. At last, jaw clenched and face impossibly pale, he was settled.
Breathing hard through his nose as he fought back waves of pain he glanced over at the girl next to him. "Rose is it?" he muttered as Carol crossed in front of the bonnet to reach the driver's door.
The little girl nodded mutely her eyes unblinking as she continued to stare at him.
"Don't worry," he said blearily his vision swimming. "I aint gonna hurt ya." He laid his head against the window. He'd not felt this weak in a long time. He started when he felt a hand touch his forehead and looked towards the source. Rose had slid across the seat towards him and now had her cool, small hand pressed across his forehead.
"Carol said you're sick," the girl said softly.
Daryl looked at her uncertainly through steadily blurring vision. "Might be I am," he murmured.
"I'll look after you," the little girl promised patting his forehead gently. "You can sleep now."
He could see Carol over the girl's shoulder. She had climbed into the driver's seat and was watching the exchange silently. Her face was haggard and drawn, her bright eyes dull and heavily shadowed. She looked exhausted and yet there was a small smile on her face as she watched them. He couldn't be sure with his currently untrustworthy vision but he could have sworn there was a tear on her cheek before she brushed it away.
"I'll do that," Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the glass. The girl was still patting his head but he didn't have the energy to push her off. Instead it became oddly soothing as he sank down into unconsciousness.