This is a longer chapter than most. I didn't want to break it up too much. Enjoy and thank you for all your positive feedback!
Two weeks later
"Rick I don't think it's a good idea. Why don't we wait for Daryl to get back from his recruiting trip and then we make the run?" Jameson asks. She is feeling way to nervous about going with three townies to a suburb four towns over. Jameson does not trust them to have her back like her family does.
"Deanna is adamant we get the solar panels from those houses. We are having issues and need more panels," Rick says not feeling too sure himself about making Jameson do this trip. "Chris has been on a lot more runs since his trip with ya to Home depot. He's confident he will be ok on this one."
"He was fuckin' confident he was good for that one too." She argues.
"Deanna wants them, James. She's in charge here, not me." He explains why he's making her do this trip.
"Maybe they should stop relying on fuckin' electricity. Hey maybe they should hand wash their shit instead of using their goddamn Maytags!" Jameson yells as she gets more and more pissed off.
Deanna walks up to joins the conversation. "Jameson, we use the power for other things, important things for this community. We deserve to have electricity like a modern day society. In here we living like humans, not animals. If you want to live like an animal you can go out there," Deanna says while she points at the wall and raises an eyebrow.
Jameson is reading between the lines. If she doesn't make this run she may be kicked out on her ass. She'd have to leave her family, leave Daryl. There is no way she would force any of them, even Daryl to leave with her if she was kicked out.
Rick is hanging his head. He understands Deanna's threat also. He is beginning to second-guess his trust in Deanna.
"I see," Jameson says while grinding her teeth and clenching her fists. Her ability to control herself is slipping, "Let me go get my things then."
Jameson walks to the armory and picks up her rifle and ammo. She meets the team at the van and begins climbing in. Rick approaches her and says, "I'm sorry. We will fix this. I promise. We won't let them risk our lives over this shit anymore. As soon as you're back we will meet and discuss our next steps." Jameson just nods and climbs in through the sliding door. She pauses and says, "Rick, if Daryl gets back today just tell him….I'll see him soon." Rick nods and swallows hard.
"You're gonna be fine," he says gripping her shoulder while trying to convince himself he's telling her the truth.
The group pulls into the tiny community. They are high-end homes built in an outlining area of the city surrounded by forest. A dozen homes in all; it's a small complex. They are two story homes with three car garages and fully finished basements. They all have solar panels on their rooftops. The teams have been slowly striping them but had to halt progress due to a passing herd a week ago. There are two houses left with solar equipment.
"Ok I will lead with Chris through the front. You two circle back, check the perimeters." Jameson tells the group while triple checking her magazine.
"We got it O'Connell. We've been doing runs," Chris snaps.
Jameson just shakes her head, "Le's go then, Boss Man."
They get to the first house. All of the windows are intact and the doors closed. It looks untouched. Jameson and Chris knock on the door and listen for walkers. Nothing approaches the door and they slowly slide in. Jameson signals Chris to check the lower level while she heads upstairs.
Jameson slides up the stairs, searching every bedroom. They are all empty and she hollers "Clear" from the landing. Chris yells up the stairs that the bottom floor is clear. Jameson starts searching the bathrooms for supplies. They hadn't even searched all the houses when they were here last. Jameson is hitting the mother load of first aid supplies.
Chris is searching the hall closet and finds some camping gear. He pulls it out and starts piling it outside on the lawn. He finds a tent rolled up and the poles that go with it in the corner. He adds it to the sizeable pile outside. He goes into the kitchen and starts looking for food. Luke and Reese join him and start looking in the pantry. Reese opens a door to what he thinks is a closet. As soon as he opens it he realizes it's the door to the basement, the basement that has almost a dozen walkers in it. He tries to push the door closed. Luke and Chris jump in to help but they can't hold it. There are too many arms splayed out of the door jam.
"GO!, "Chris yells pushing Luke towards the front door. They take off running. Chris and Luke make it out the front door shutting it behind them, while Reese runs out the back door. He slams it shut.
Jameson is still upstairs and hears the doors slamming. Walking out of the bathroom onto the landing Jameson asks, "What the fuck are you guys doing, be quiet!" She looks down and sees the large group of rotting dead crowded downstairs by the front door. They hear her and start spilling up into the stairwell. Runing into the nearest bedroom, she slams the door and pushes the dresser against it. There's gunfire outside and car doors slamming and when Jameson runs to the window and throws it opens she sees the taillights of their vehicle driving away.
"Motherfuckers." She hisses through clenched teeth.
The bedroom door is bending inward, splitting from the weight of the bodies behind it. She looks down and sees the large pile of camping gear below the window. "Guess I'm jumpin'," she mutters.
She looks around the yard and sees more dead coming through the forest. They were attracted to the gunfire. The door is cracked open and hands are pulling pieces of wood away.
Jameson drops her rifle out the window and throws her legs over the sill, lowering herself as much as possible to lessen the fall. Aiming for the pile of sleeping bags and tents, she lets go and falls, rolling onto her back on top of the pile of scavenged goods. Feeling a stabbing pain shoot through her thigh Jameson cries out and looks down to see a tent pole stick through the side of her leg.
"Fuuckk," she gasps out.
Jameson looks up and sees the dead have filled the bedroom. They are scraping at the window, breaking the glass of the top window and hanging out. Their arms are getting cut up from the glass causing thick streams of black blood to leak down the wall. She pulls herself up and yanks the poled out, blood pours out down her leg. Squeezing it while looking around she sees walkers are approaching fast. Thinking quickly she takes her hand that's coated in blood and writes a 'J' on the white paint of the house and then draws and arrow pointing west. Jameson doesn't know if anyone will see it but is hoping that maybe, just maybe they will come looking for her. She picks up her rifle and moves west towards the surrounding forest running with a significant limp. She needs to tie the wound off but the dead are pouring into the area and she doesn't have time.
Running and tripping over branches her heart crashes into her ribs and her breathing comes in rough gasping pants. Sweat pours from her forehead, dripping in her eyes. The dead are following her and she can't seem to lose them. Their on her heels. She turns and fires, killing several in their paths but they are followed by dozens of others. Several walkers drawn to the area are walking towards her. Shouldering her rifle Jameson brings out her machete, slicing them as she runs past.
Her leg is throbbing and there's blood in her shoe. Running without even spare a moment to glance down, she trips, falling onto her hands scrapping all the skin off her palms. Scrambling to her feet she keeps moving. She is beginning to see spots; she's hyperventilating and bleeding too much. Glancing over her shoulder Jameson sees she has a little bit of a lead. Using the lead, she yanks her long sleeved button up off and ties it around her thigh. Jameson sees that she has lost a significant amount of blood. Pulling the makeshift bandage tight she yelps from the pain. Jameson glances back and sees they are gaining on her again. Quickly she makes the decision to leave her rifle because it's too heavy to carry in her weakened state. She still has a handgun, hunting knife and her machete.
Running again her gate is becoming more like a stagger with a hop. Aiming for the dirt road ahead she hopes that there is some place to hide near it. She bursts out of the tree line and finds a drainage ditch and then a dirt road. A hundred yards to the right is an abandoned vehicle and taking the risk Jameson goes for it. If it has gas and starts, she can flee. If not it might work as a temporary shelter. Scrambling down the ditch her feet sink into six inches of mud. Dragging her legs, trying to climb but it's sticky and she just sinks further down. The closest walkers are now tumbling into the ditch with her. Hacking into their heads with her machete they spray dark tar-like blood all over her. She turns and begins clawing her way up the other side of the ditch and when finally at the top she lay on her stomach pulling herself along, digging her broken nails into the dirt. Her heart pounding in her skull. Another walker has tumbled into the ditch and is grabbing her ankle, kicking at it Jameson can't free her leg.
She turns onto her back and sits up, smashing her machete into its skull. It's stuck in its forehead and won't release. Fatigued from running and blood loss, she gives up and starts standing up, forcing herself to ignore the dizziness clouding her mind.
A handful of walkers have made in through the forest line and are now climbing into the ditch. Some are getting stuck but others are clawing their way up. She takes off with a staggering limp, shooting the walkers making their way out of the ditch. Dragging her injured leg behind her, progress is slow.
Finally reaching the car Jameson sees that all the tires are flat and the windows are all broken. Her head tilts to the sky and she screams a high pitch screech of frustration. It will not be a getaway car and can't be a shelter. With a quick look back there are a dozen walkers on the road. There is no other choice, she can't outrun them anymore, too weak to escape and she has no idea where she is. Opening the drivers side door she pulls the trunk release and walks to the back of the car, looking at the empty trunk. Looking back down the road seeing that more rotting dead have made it to the road. Throwing her injured leg over the edge of the trunk the injured woman climbs in. With one last look of the outside world Jameson slams the trunk closed, then pushes up on it to see if it's latched. Lying back so she can point her gun and knife at the opening. Jameson has no idea if they will be able to get it open but if they do she's not going down without killing some.
Shaking from the exertion of running miles and the adrenaline coursing through her body. Her muscles are cramping and she has a stitch in her side. Jameson has no idea how much blood she's lost but is seemed considerable before she tied it off.
They have made it to the car. All she can hear is a deafening cacophony of growls and groans and hands scratching at the paint. The car is rocking back and forth from the shear amount of dead crowding it. The sound of teeth scraping along the paint is ear piercing. The trunk metal is bending and creaking from the weight of bodies pushing against it.
'Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out' chants in her head.
She can't stop the tears streaming down her face or biting her bottom lip bloody holding in her sobs.
'Not making it this time Jameson' her pessimistic inner voice tells her.
'No. Shut up, stop thinking like that, You just gotta hold out. Hold out. They'll leave.' Jameson argues with herself.
'You're nuts. You're gonna die in this trunk and no one will find you.' It sneers back.
"No. Not true. Daryl will find me. He's gonna be back and he'll come. He'll come. It'll be fine. He'll track you. You're gonna be fine. Gonna be fine." she mutters under breath like a prayer.
Trying to calm herself. Her face is covered in tears and her leg feels like its soaked in blood. "You're ok. You're ok." mumbling trying to convince herself that she will get out of this trunk alive.
She is cold; her clothing is still wet and muddy from the drainage ditch. Night has fallen and since they have been getting colder, a sweatshirt is needed. Jameson hadn't planned to be out in the forest at night. The long sleeved shirt she had worn is now wrapped on her leg. Wearing only a tank top she is beginning to shiver. Her tremors aren't all from being cold though, her body is going into shock. The blood loss alone would be enough but she's spent hours running in the forest being chased without water or food since before they left for the run. The hand holding her gun is shaking so terribly she has to lay it down on her stomach to keep from dropping it. Jameson has her knife in her hand lying next to her. If they get the trunk open she's going to fight as hard as possible but her physical condition is deteriorating fast. The sounds around her have shown no signs of letting up. Her breathing is still erratic. If there were any light inside the trunk she'd be seeing spots from hyperventilating.
'Fuck. Breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You got this. You're ok.' She tries to calm herself.
Taking a shaky breath through her nose and letting it go slowly through her mouth, her teeth start chattering. The adrenaline from the whole experience is making her body not listen to her. She is in the throws of a panic attack.
The scratching is still deafening. The moans are drilling into her and when she closes her eyes all she sees bloody gnashing teeth and gaping mouths. The high pitch scraping of teeth won't stop, she can feel the vibrations of them trailing along the body of the car. The car is still being pushed from side to side.
Jameson's mind is warring with itself. She's beginning to think she will need one of her rounds for herself. She is not going to let herself be eaten alive.
'Daryl will understand. I'd rather him find me dead of a self inflicted gunshot wound than a fucking walker stuck in a trunk' she thinks and then realizes he probably won't ever find her on the desolate backroad. She doesn't know where she is but it was off the beat track, miles from the suburb.
Curling up on her side, exhaustion is setting in. If they get the trunk open she won't have the energy to fight. Feeling colder, she can't be sure if it's the weather, stress or if her blood loss has gotten worse. Without seeing her wound there's no way to know. Her eyes begin to close and she begins to loss consciousness. Her last thought before blacking out is,
'If I get back to town I am killing every single one of those motherfuckers.'
Earlier in the day in Alexandria
Rick has been watching for the team to return. They should be back in a couple hours but he can't shake this horrible feeling. He's trying to convince himself he's just worried and that nothing has happened. While pacing by the gate Rick hears a car approaching fast. Turning he sees the van the team left in speeding to the gate. Once they drive through and slamming on the brakes, Chris and Luke step out. Rick opens the van's sliding door and see's its empty.
"Where are the others, where's Jameson?" he asks with wild eyes.
"We got attacked, basement was full we had to run." Chris says while looking away, "It was too late. They're gone."
"What the hell do you mean it was too late? Where was she?" Rick asks. "Did you see her go down?" He is clenching his fists; he's loosing his grip and will starting punching Chris if he doesn't answer.
"She was upstairs, we tried to stop them from getting out, we couldn't stop it. There were too many around," Luke says. "We didn't see her go down but there's nothing we could do. Reese died on the way out."
Rick stalks over to the two guys and grabs Luke shoving him hard against the van. "YOU LEFT HER BEHIND?!" he screams in his face. A crowd is developing. Abraham has returned from the construction crew.
"What's going on Rick?" he ask while approaching, trying to decide if he needs to step in.
"They fucking left her behind. Left Jameson out there in a house full of FUCKING WALKERS!" he's screaming and slamming the guy against the van. Chris is trying to pull Rick off of him but he just turns around and takes a swing at him. Deanna runs up trying to intervene. Abraham grabs Rick, keeping him from pummeling the men.
"What's going on here?" she hollers while pushing her way in between the men. "These cowards left two team members behind. I knew I shouldn't have sent her. These bastards got her killed." He's ranting while being held back by Abraham. Glenn and Maggie have shown up to see what the commotion is.
"We couldn't do anything. We saw them get into the bedroom," Chris lies to Deanna.
"You said you didn't see anything. That ya just left 'er" Rick yells over Abrahams shoulder.
"No we didn't see her get attacked but they had to have gotten in. There were too many," Luke adds.
In the background the sound of an approaching motorcycle can be heard. Rick gives Abraham a desperate look. "Daryl…..How the fuck do I tell him?" Rick asks.
"We tell 'im and we get a team together to go look for her," He says down to the man melting down.
"No one's leaving at night time," Deanna snaps.
Daryl pulls up to the curb, seeing a huge gathering and Rick being restrained by Abraham. He slides off his bike and jogs over.
"Wha' the hells goin' on?" He asks Glenn who is standing back from the crowd. Glenn looks at him with a broken expression and then back at Rick. Rick pulls away from Abraham and stumbles over.
"Daryl, fuck. come here. Come with me, " he stammers grabbing for Daryl's arm.
"No. Tell me wha the fuck is goin' on, nowww." Daryl growls out. He is dreading what Rick is about to tell him, a deep gnawing in his chest.
"Jameson…Jameson was on a run. They got over run. They," Rick cant even say the words. He pauses and hangs his head scrubbing his face with his hands.
"Where is she? She dead?" Daryl growls through clenched teeth while balling his fists. He is close to exploding if someone doesn't tell him what the fuck is going on.
"The team left her," Rick replies and looks up at Daryl. Rick sees the man breaking in front of him. Daryl's face fractures and he looks away. Turning back narrowing his eyes at Rick he ooks over at the group standing by the van.
"Which ones?" he asks in a deadly calm voice with an undercurrent of savage rage.
When Rick doesn't answer Daryl screams in his face while fisting his shirt, "WHO?!"
Looking over Daryl sees Chris and Luke edging away from the crowd. Stalking over to them he grabs Chris by the neck. He is spiraling into a frenzy. Lifting him completely off the ground Daryl slams him onto the concrete pavement, pinning him to the ground with a knee to the chest. Deana is screaming and yanking at Daryl's back.
"Ya fuckin' coward. Where's she, fuckin' tell me now 'fore I rip ya fuckin' throat out!" He growls into Chris's face.
Deanna is beating on Daryl's back but he doesn't feel a thing. He only feels the heat of pure unadulterated rage consuming every cell in his body.
"W-w-w-we got over run-n-n and she was upstairs. T-t-there were too many. We couldn't get to her," Chris stutters out.
"Ya didn't even try to get to her," Daryl snarls. "Did ya?!"
Daryl wraps his hands around the man's throat and begins choking him. Abraham and Rick have to pull Daryl off. He's thrashing and kicking out. His screams are animalistic and desperate. Maggie is sobbing while Glenn holds her. The scene is completely heartbreaking.
"Lemme go, Fuckers. Lemme fuckin GO!" Daryl is screaming until his voice is hoarse. He is breaking into a million pieces, his mind to the images of Jameson being torn apart because they left her behind. Rick and Abraham get him pinned against the wall and hold him there.
"Lemme go I gotta go get'er now!" Daryl is screaming desperately, his eyes bloodshot.
"We're gonna go Daryl. Its gonna be dark a half hour though, man." Rick is telling him.
"I don' giva fuck. I'm goin'" Daryl still struggling to remove their hands. "Fuckin let me go NOW!"
Deanna gets involved again. "No ones leaving tonight. No one travels at night, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"Fuck you lady, I'm fuckin' leavin' n' if she's dead I'm coming back n' skinnin' those fucks alive n' burn' this fuckin' place ta tha ground!" He screams in her face, spitting in rage.
"Rick get control of your animal," she sneers. "He's not going to be staying here if he's like this."
"Bitch, Ya ain't gonna be livin' long if ya keep talkin' ta me." Daryl snarls.
Rick is pushing Daryl towards their houses. "Daryl, brother come on lets get a plan. Daryl come on," Rick pleads.
"Don't need no fuckin' plan. Tell me where they left 'er." He snaps. He pulls away and heads for his bike.
"Where is she Rick, tell me now." he says while throwing his leg over the bike. Carol jogs over with a pack and says, "Here Daryl, it's got food, water and some medical stuff in case. Go get your girl."
Daryl slides the pack on, looks at Rick with pleading eyes and quietly says, "Tell. Me. Where. Now."
Jameson sits up with a start slamming her head into the top of the trunk.
"Umph," she grunts out and then feels around blindly, confused about where she is. The moaning and scratching makes her mind click back into place. She's still stuck in the trunk.
"Fuck." Jameson mumbles. The sounds of the dead have not let up. The car is still shaking and vibrating from the hands pounding on it. She has no idea how long she had blacked out for. Although she knows the sun was setting soon after she climbed inside here. It's cold now so it must be late into the evening. The trunk feels stuffy.
'Can I suffocate in here?' she asks herself. Her heart begins to race again at that idea, unsure if the air will run out. Jameson doesn't think she will but now she's worried. Feeling around by the back of the car Jameson finds the backside of the taillights. She knows you can punch them out.
"They say to do this if you get kidnapped, why not for when you're trapped surround by dozen and dozen of walking dead people right?" Jameson mutters to herself. Using the grip of her knife and pounding on the back of the light until it gives way, a small 3" hole is left by it popping out. The smell of the dead assaults her.
"Fuckkkk that was a poor decision," she moans placing her hands over her mouth, gagging Jameson can't stop the bile from pushing up her throat. Swallowing several times trying to not throw up but she can't stop it. She turns her head and heaves what's left in her stomach, mainly stomach acid, burning her throat and nasal passage. It's been many hours since she's had water or food. Calming her breathing, trying to only breath through her mouth. She reaches down to her leg and feels that the blood is all dried. Pushing around the wound, grinding her teeth at the pain she can tell it's very swollen and most likely going to be infected without first aid soon. Laying her head back on the floor of the trunk she lets out an exasperated sigh.
'This is why you don't belong to groups, Jameson.' Her hypercritical inner voice tells her.
"Ya thanks for reminding me, asshole." Jameson mutters back to herself.
Lying there thinking about what she will do to the men who left her behind…if she survives this that is. Her mind starts thinking about Daryl, unable to imagine what her never coming back will do to him. Her chest clench, her throat tightens and her eyes burn. She can't stop the gut-wrenching sob that rips its way out of her chest. The angry dead get even more riled up, hearing her and the thought of dinner aggravates them. The clawing sounds increase as she sobs uncontrollably. Her soul is shattering but she starts trying to reel in her emotions. Taking deep breathes trying to control the heartbreaking desperation clawing it's way into her heart.
'Breathe, James. Breathe.' She is chanting in her head, squeezing her eyes shut trying to think of anything but the sounds outside. Taking deep breathes. She rubs her fists into her eyes, smearing away the tears.
'Just hold on. Hold on til they leave. Then get home.' She thinks trying to convince herself that it's a plan that will work. Breathing in deep again Jameson closes her eyes. "Rest and then you can get out of here Jameson." She mutters under breath. Her eyes get heavy and she passes out again.
Daryl is pulling up to the housing development they were scavenging. The place is not covered with walkers anymore. The moon is almost full and he has a flashlight. He makes his way over to the house that has a pile of supplies in the front yard. He kills a few walkers on the way and ends up at the pile. He looks up and sees the windows open and broken; there is walker blood and gore around the window and down the wall. As he scans down with his flashlight he sees it, a 'J' and an arrow written in blood. She left him a sign. His heart practically bursts out of his chest. He looks in the direction it is pointing. She headed away from town. Daryl sees the walker tracks and sees that a small herd was probably chasing her. He squeezes his eyes shut, his heart aching at the thought of her running for her life. Looking back down and seeing a pool of blood on the ground, he bends down and sees a tent pole with sticky dried blood on it lying near by. With a glance back up at the window Daryl realizes she had to jump and probably injured herself when she landed.
"Fuck, " he hisses out. Even uninjured out running a heard is difficult. He's hoping her injury is nothing serious. The sound of a car approaching makes him raise his crossbow. A small SUV pulls up and Glenn gets out.
"Did you find her?" Glenn asks quickly while jogging over. Daryl shakes his head.
"She jumped out tha' window, landed here, prolly injured from this," he says while showing him the bloodied piece of metal, "She left a message." Daryl points his flashlight at the wall. He looks up and sees Abraham walking over.
"Can you track her at night, man?" he asks Daryl.
"Not well but if she's stayed goin' west I can just hike tha' way. Moon's full." Daryl says while looking up at the sky.
The two men just nod. They know that anything they say will not get Daryl to stop looking for her despite it being nighttime.
"What can we do?" Glenn asks.
"Drive down the main road goin' west. Maybe she made it ta tha road and lost 'em." he says while walking towards the tree line she must have disappeared into. Abraham can't let him go by himself.
Abraham says, "I'm goin with ya. Glenn you drive down the road. Turn down any crossroads you see and check for signs of her." He grabs an extra magazine from the car and follows Daryl into the forest. Glenn hops in the van and takes off.
They have been following the tracks from the walkers for miles. Daryl occasional sees blood from her injury. "She's bleeding real good." He mutters. They get to a downed log and he sees her rifle leaning against the log.
"Fuck, she left her rifle," he says while picking it up. The magazine still has rounds in it. He looks at it for a minute. He's confused about why she left it behind.
Abraham asks, "Ya think she left it because she couldn't carry the weight?"
Daryl looks over at him and feels his stomach drop. That's the only reason she'd leave it behind unless she died here. He looks around and doesn't see a bunch of blood. She didn't die here; she left it behind on purpose. "She's hurt bad." He states and takes off walking faster and with more purpose. He has his crossbow up and takes out several walkers as he pushes through the thick growth, collect his bolts as he walks past. Abraham is moving smoothly behind him, taking out approaching walkers.
They walk another mile into the forest. Daryl can't see her tracks; every surface of the forest floor is scrapped away by walkers staggered tracks. He does see a trail of dead walkers though, so he follows them. Daryl's heart is pounding in his ears; sweat dripping down his forehead and between his shoulders despite the colder temperatures. They push through a grouping of shrubs and can see a dirt road splitting the forest in half. They approach the tree line slowly, already hearing and smelling the dead. The drainage ditch in front of them is thick with corpses stuck in the mud. They start moaning and reaching for them. Daryl can see deep digs into the earth on the opposite side of the ditch and a walker with a machete stuck in its head. He looks down the road and sees a large gathering of dead. They are piled up and surrounding something. He squints and sees a glint of silver and figures out it's a car.
"She's in there." Daryl says while he starts moving towards them.
"Wait how'dya know?" Abraham says while grabbing Daryl's arm, "You can't just walk up, there's too many man."
"They are attracted to something in that car. It's gotta be 'er. Her machete is righ' there. " He says while yanking his arm out of his grasp.
"We gotta get Glenn and get them to leave the car. Lets go out to the main road, get Glenn, then we can distract them." Abraham says trying to reason with the distraught man.
Daryl growls, "Ain't got time." He pulls away again and starts walking but then hears the van coming towards them and turns back.
"Thank fuck," Abraham mutters, signaling Glenn with a blink of his flashlight, he jogs over and jumps over the drainage ditch where there aren't any walkers. He is talking to Glenn, forming a plan. Daryl is staring down the road; his heart is aching so badly he rubs his hand over it. His eyes are burning and he has to remind himself to breath. Abraham jogs back over. "He's going to get them to follow him. We get her out and get back to the main road. He will circle back and get us, " Abraham says. "We can go back for your bike. "
"Fuck tha bike. Tell him ta go now." Daryl growls. Abraham flicks his flashlight once and Glenn starts off down the road.
Jameson is coming to. She blinks her eyes and still hears the guttural moaning surrounding her. The screeching of teeth on metal is setting her on edge.
"FUCK OFF ASSHOLES!" she screams, punching, thrashing and kicking the sides of the car. Losing her mind, Jameson knows that she's making it worse by screaming but she can't stop herself. The panic has drained from her and rolling waves of rage fills her. She's angry, angrier than she has ever been, not believing she's stuck in the position.
She stops kicking when she hears a different sound. It sounds like techno music and some of the pounding on the trunk stops. The car is still rocking but it has lessened. Halfway sure she's just imaging shit until she hears a car horn honking. Her heart stops. 'Oh please fucking please be help!' She is screaming inside her head. Her eyes fill up and she begins shaking again. The clawing sounds have dropped off to only a few. She can tell that the walkers are getting distracted.
'Please. Please Please. Please.' Jameson is whispering while she picks up her gun in her trembling hand. Not knowing who it is, she will take anyone not dead at this point. Then Jameson hears several loud thumps as bodies hit the trunk and then silence. All she hears is a whooshing sound in her ears. After hours of deafening noise the absence of sound is staggering. Keeping her gun pointed at the trunk and her knife poised. Her arms are shaking so badly she wouldn't even be able to hit anything but she holds them up anyway.
There is a scraping sound, metal against metal. Her heart lurches, she doesn't know if it's a human sound or if a walker is somehow making its way into the car. There's a popping sound and the trunk lifts up. She is blinded by a flashlight and she hears yelling. Someone is grabbing her and her instincts kicking. She is screaming, kicking and thrashing.
"Jameson! Stop. yer ok. Stop," a voice is yelling. Her eyes begin to focus on who's talking to her and she sees Daryl and Abraham. Daryl's eyes are wild and he's grabbing her face. Clawing at him, grasping his shirt, crashing her body into his, she breaks in to jagged sobs. Her arms holding onto him like he's going to disappear at any moment. Jameson can't breathe and she is shaking so violently Daryl can barely hold onto her. Curling into him Jameson feels the weight of her ordeal crushing her. Leting go of struggling to stay awake, she lays her head against his chest, shuts her eyes and passes out.
"I got ya, I got ya." Daryl is saying. He is squeezing her to his chest, standing up, sliding his arm under her knees, holding her tightly against him. Abraham is watching Jameson and can't stop the tears flooding his eyes. He has never seen her so fragile, even after her attack she was still strong. The pure terror in her face was enough to break his heart. He grinds his fingers into his eyes, quelling the falling moisture.
Daryl and Abraham start walking to the main road. They are going to walk until Glenn circles back. Daryl keeps looking down at Jameson and sees she is still crying silently, her fist clenched onto his shirt. Her body has violent tremors running through it every few seconds. He tries to get a look at her leg but all he can see is dried blood. Her entire leg is covered in it and she has thick dried mud all over her. She only has a tank top on and her skin is clammy with goose bumps.
"She needs a shirt or a blanket, she fuckin' freezin'." He says. Abraham stops and pulls off his flannel shirt, tucking it around her. They have been walking for thirty minutes when Glenn pulls up.
"Fuck is she ok?" Glenn yells out the driver window.
"Barely." Abraham says as he pulls open the sliding door. Daryl steps up into the van and sits with her in his lap. He needs to look at her leg but she won't let go of him. She's mumbling into his chest.
"Yer ok, James. Gotta look at yer leg, le'go." He says quietly. She doesn't even respond.
Abraham climbs in the front seat. "We'll stop and get your bike, I'll ride it back." He says over his shoulder.
"Don' give a fuck. She's bleedin out," he snaps. "She needs a doctor."
Glenn starts driving and looks over at Abraham who shrugs. They drive past the housing complex, leaving his motorcycle behind.
"Just hold on James hold on you're ok gonna be ok he'll come" Jameson is muttering into Daryl's chest. He realizes that she is most likely in shock. She's talking to herself, saying things that she was probably thinking in the trunk.
"I'm here. I'm here, darlin'" he murmurs.
Daryl can't stop himself, he starts rocking her back and forth, tears streaming down him face. His heart feels like its been ripped out of his chest. Daryl puts his forehead to Jameson's and begins whispering all of the things he wants her to know. Telling her how much he loves her, how he's never leaving her side again, that he will do everything he can to keep her safe. Daryl begs her to wake up, to open her eyes, not even caring that Glenn and Abraham are hearing him weep like a little girl or that he's proclaiming his undying love like some teenager. He loves this woman who's broken in his arms. This woman who spent her day running from a herd of walkers after being left for dead, jumping from a second story window and impaling her leg on a metal pole. She spent hours in a trunk surrounded by dozens and dozens of dead clawing at her. Jameson is the strongest person he's ever met and seeing her so fragile is crushing him. Squeezing his eyes shut Daryl is praying for the pain in his chest to go away but every time he opens his eyes and looks down it increases.
Unable to do anything but hold her Daryl hopes that he wasn't too late. That he made it in time and that she will recover from this horrific day. He prays he will get to see her green eyes again, that he'll get to make her laugh and hear her singing softly. That he will get the chance to tell her everything he feels for her and have her actually hear him. Daryl promises to a better man, he promises to never harm her, to never fail her and to never ever leave her again.