A/N: Bit of a short one this time. The next chapter will be longer.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I'm not selling anything, this is just a little harmless homage.
Shane kept one arm draped protectively over Marilyn's shoulders. His wife's face was pale with delayed shock over what they'd just been through, and she clutched at her belly with both hands as if their unborn child needed the extra support. Shane couldn't help but worry, all the stress and strain she'd endured, and her looking so fragile. He would have had her in one of the carts, but there wasn't any more room. They'd loaded all the smallest children into them so they could reach the village that much sooner. Marilyn and Lori had no other choice than to walk. Even in his anxiety, Shane was proud of his wife's determination not to slow the rest of them down. Her pace was steady in spite of her obvious discomfort, and she showed no signs of flagging.
"We'll get there soon, baby," Shane assured her.
Marilyn nodded and even managed a convincing smile for him, but didn't waste her energy on words.
Ahead of the procession, and widening the distance every minute, were Hank and a very anxious Rick still carrying his injured son. Carl's bleeding had slowed and he stayed conscious and lucid, but his father wasn't about to let those positive signs hold him back. If he weren't so concerned about jostling the boy, Rick would have been running by now. The fear that Carl's condition might suddenly worsen was a constant gnaw in the former lawman's mind. He couldn't survive the loss of his son, of any of his family. He didn't have the strength.
As they closed the distance to town, Hank pulled out a handheld radio and called ahead to let Doc Lawton know he was needed. The old doctor would be waiting at the gate with his medical bag at the ready when they got there.
If the guards at the wall were shocked by the fact that the posse was returning with the very people they'd been sent to drive away, they didn't let it hesitate them. The gate swung open with its usual smooth motion and Doc and his granddaughter stepped out to meet their new patient. Doc gave Carl's wound a quick examination.
"Well, good news is th' bullet passed clean through. Blood's clottin'," he added with a nod of approval, "Let's get this boy t' my cabin where I c'n fix him up right."
"Is he gonna be alright," Rick asked worriedly.
"Oh, I patched up worse 'n this in my time," the old man soothed, "He ain't gonna have use o' his arm for awhile, but long as infection don't set in, I think he'll be jus' fine." Beckoning, he and his granddaughter led Rick and Carl through the growing crowd of gawkers towards the cabin which doubled as the town's clinic.
Hank stayed to wait for the rest of the group to show. They finally arrived at the gate more than twenty minutes later, the refugees bedraggled with exhaustion, the militia people solemn. Two of them carried the body of the bitten man wrapped in a borrowed blanket. A young woman in the crowd found out who he was and let out a piteous wail. Those closest to her were quick to offer what comfort they could, all the while secretly grateful they weren't the ones to suffer the loss of a loved one.
People stared at the newcomers, at the dozens upon dozens of children of different ages. Many throats tightened and eyes stung at the sight of them. So many had lost their families to the walkers. The children in the village were few, most of them orphans. No one had believed it possible for so many youngsters to have survived.
The rest of the Elders gathered at the forefront to greet the unexpected arrivals. They seemed uncertain as to whether they should be welcoming at all, but looking at all the tired young faces gazing back at them made the thought of turning these people away difficult.
Finally, Louann Nealson took the initiative, "Hello to you all. We don't have any extra cabins right now, but y'all are welcome to use our meeting hall 'til we work out somethin' better."
"'Welcome'?" Andrea snapped, the wisps escaping her ponytail making her look even more haggard, "Is this your idea of welcoming people? Sending out a bunch of armed thugs?"
"Please, try to understand," Norma spoke, "We were just tryin' to protect ourselves. For all we knew, y'all could've been bandits."
Andrea scoffed and indicated her companions with a sweep of her arm. "Do we look like bandits to you?"
Dale placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "We're all tired," he said gently, "Why don't we let everybody rest before we start throwing blame around?"
The blonde woman sighed and nodded, too worn down to sustain her anger. But before they started to follow the Elders to the meeting house, a petite woman and several burly men elbowed their way through the crowd and moved to block their path. "They are not comin' in here!"
Javier Martinez held up a placatory hand. "Shelby, look at 'em. They're no danger. We can post guards, to be on th' safe side-"
Shelby ignored the Elder and rounded on Hank. "You were s'posed t' keep 'em away from here," she snarled, "Not usher 'em through th' goddamned gate! And you," she pointed an accusatory finger at Daryl and Lia, who happened to be in her line of sight, "How the fuck did you get out? Who helped you?"
Daryl felt Sally tremble at the woman's enraged voice. He subtly tightened the pressure of his arms around the toddler to reassure her, and he and Lia glared at Shelby without deigning to respond.
"Shel," Hank stated in a level voice, "We ain't gotta worry about a buncha kids and a few grownups. We oughta be worryin' about all them walkers out there. There's more of 'em roamin' around all the time. Hell, we were ambushed by more 'n a hundred of th' bastards-"
"And brought back god knows how many infected!" Shelby retorted.
Surprisingly, the normally timid Carol spoke up, "None of us were bitten. You can check us."
"Shelby, we can't just turn 'em away now," Louann reasoned, "It'd be heartless."
Shelby laughed incredulously. "You...you're all so innocent," she spat the word like a curse.
"Shelby," Javier said in a stern tone, "This is a town matter, it ain't militia business. That means its up to th' Elders. And right now we say these people can stay."
"Course you'll say that," the young woman said harshly, "'Cause you're weak. Y' think bein' kind and havin' right on your side's enough. None o' you have a fuckin' clue what kinda world this is."
None of the Elders said anything. They beckoned the refugees to follow them once again. They barely went two steps when Shelby suddenly drew her sidearm and pointed straight ahead, at Daryl who was still holding Sally. Everyone froze. A few people gasped in shock. Shelby's arm was horribly steady. "They ain't comin' in," she declared in little more than a whisper.
Lia immediately reacted by drawing an arrow from her quiver and aiming her bow at the woman threatening her family. "Put the gun down," she hissed.
The air grew thick. Several militia men brought up their weapons and the refugees did the same. Arrows and guns pointing every which way, threatening to unleash a bloodbath at the slightest provocation. All it would take was one nervous trigger finger, one slip of a bowstring. Daryl clutched the fragile toddler in his arms. He wanted to turn and shield her, to fling her away from the danger, but knew if he so much as twitched the woman would shoot him and probably kill or wound Sally incidentally.
Norma raised both her arms and shouted, "Please, for god's sake! Everybody put your weapons down!"
"I ain't lettin' them set one foot in my town," Shelby declared, not backing down.
"Stop pointing your gun at my family!" Lia yelled, pulling back on her bow even more. For the first time in her life she was experiencing what could only be described as murderous rage. She hated the woman in front of her with every fiber of her being. Hated for what what she'd done to Daryl and what she was doing now. Lia felt a powerful urge to let the arrow fly and imbed itself in the bitch's neck and wondered why she was holding back.
"This is insanity," Nana Shino murmured, sensing disaster.
Standing beside her husband, who held his shotgun at the ready, Marilyn gazed wide-eyed at this terrible spectacle. Her imagination conjured up images of blood and small bodies littering the ground. She saw with nightmarish clarity Shane toppling like a felled tree with a massive hole in his chest and his eyes gone hopelessly blank. It was going to happen, she knew it. She knew there was nothing that could stop it. She was going to lose everything.
The pain that had been pulsing through her off and on throughout the day, that had grown progressively worse as they marched towards this isolated town, rose up at that moment with a strength that overwhelmed her. She couldn't hide her reaction to it anymore. Marilyn abruptly doubled over and let out an agonized cry that startled nearly everyone out of their growing fury. Shane literally dropped his shotgun in his hurry to reach his wife's side. "Somethin's happening with the baby!" he cried, looking frantically around for some kind of help.
In an act of foolish bravery, Louann stepped forward and shoved Shelby's outstretched gun aside. "Enough of this. All of you," she raised her voice to the militia, "put your guns down now!" She'd used the same no-nonsense tone in dealing with countless unruly classrooms over the years, and many obeyed out of pure reflex. The violence that had threatened to break out was past. Louann turned to Shane and Marilyn, "I'll take ya to Doc's."
The remaining Elders and several guards escorted the rest of the refugees to the meeting house. Lori broke away from the group and made to follow the smaller party to Doc Lawton's. She wanted to see for herself that Carl was being cared for. A few people noticed her departure, but nobody said anything or tried to stop her.
Daryl and Lia exchanged threatening glares with Shelby in passing. It went without saying this was far from over. Shelby was left standing more or less alone, still clutching her gun at her side, her other hand clenched so tightly her fingernails broke through the skin of her palm. Townspeople milled around her, either following the group headed for the meeting hall or returning to whatever chores they'd interrupted. In her seething preoccupation, Shelby didn't notice a certain figure pass close behind her, not until she felt a sharp jab in her arm.
"Augh!" She slapped a hand over the sudden pain as if swatting a mosquito. When she drew her hand away a second later, she saw a spot of blood on her finger. "What the hell?" She looked around, scowling, but whoever stuck her was already gone.
Later, in the meeting house, someone started a fire in the fireplace to heat some water to make tea. Hess wandered over and stared into the flames for a while. Nobody noticed when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny cloth-wrapped bundle, stained with unnameable fluids, which he then casually tossed into the fire. Soon all that was left of the mysterious bundle was the old safety pin that had held it shut, which became hidden beneath a pile of ashes to be swept away the next morning.