Five Minute Window

Chapter 37

Pretending was a child's game. But even as a child Merle didn't remember doing much of it. Losing himself in one of the few books he had managed to keep safely hidden from his father was about as close as Merle ever came to mentally escaping the harsh reality of his life. But as he laid back on his pillow, shifting his body carefully to keep from disturbing the sleeping woman who's rumpled head was resting on his chest, it was easy to let his mind wander. The last time they had slept in her bed together, he and RickyJo had been back in her apartment in Atlanta. Right after he lost his hand.

He had never been alone with a woman for that long before. Unless they were servicing his sexual needs, he found most women to be rather annoying. Women talked too much. They were needy and clingy. Merle never had any interest in living with a woman or even being alone with one longer than necessary. The few attempts he had made at having any sort of long term relationship had been absolute and complete failures. Being alone with a woman in an empty apartment for over two weeks would have sounded like absolute torture. On par with listening to rap and taking an overnight watch alone with Glenn and Maggie.

Instead of being eager to get the hell away from her after a few days, Merle found he enjoyed being alone with RickyJo. She had been the one trying to talk him into going back to the quarry and he had made up excuse after flimsy excuse why they needed to stay right where they were. His hand still hurt. There were too many biters in the street outside her building. He needed to finish his antbiotics. Every single thing he told her was a lie. The truth was he just liked being alone with her. Being with RickyJo was like coming home. He always had a soft spot for her, but once he got her under him that small soft spot became something else. Something more. When he had her in his arms he felt like a whole person in a way that he hadn't before.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she nuzzled into his chest. Using his hard chest as a pillow must not have been very comfortable because RickyJo offered up another sleepy sigh before she rolled over onto her side, one long leg hiking up and out of the blankets. She coughed a little more. Not hard enough to wake herself up this time, but Merle didn't like the sound of it. He sat up and pulled the blankets up around her, pressing his wrist gently against her forehead and trying to figure out if she had a fever. RickyJo's head felt a little warm but he wasn't sure if that meant anything. He knew the woman had been running herself ragged, going on too many runs and working in that garden some nights until it got dark out and she was forced to quit. She was thinner. Too thin. Which meant she hadn't been eating enough. Sometimes getting sick was the body's way of forcing a person to slow down a little.

Content with the idea of taking RickyJo down to medical in the morning, Merle rolled into her. He tucked his knees in behind hers and wrapped his good arm around her waist. She smelled like soap and dry red wine. Her skin was as soft and he reached up to brush her hair out of the way so he could have access to his favorite part of her body. The curve where her neck met her shoulder. The area was peppered with old scars, some faded so light they were almost invisible.

Her earlobe on that side was missing. From her fight with the governor. Merle knew he had been stupid to blame her for that. At the time he had simply gone crazy, full of more hatred and frustration than he knew what to do with. The person Merle had really been angry with was himself. For getting RickyJo into that situation. For not even being the one to find her and help her. Daryl had done that. But at the time he hadn't been thinking straight. Lashing out at her felt good. Later, when he calmed down and realized what he had done and said, it had been too late to take back what happened.

Now she was back. With him. He had her back. And he was going to make things right with her. Merle kissed the worst of her scars. The red angry marks where Hershel had sewn what was left of her ear back together. He did it softly, like a whisper, so that he wouldn't wake her. After her ear, he kissed each one of the scars on her neck and shoulder. The room was dimly lit but he didn't need the light. He knew her body and where each of her scars were without needing to see them. Her breathing had a little hitch to it, but the slow even rhythm still lulled him to sleep.

Merle wasn't sure how long he slept, but he knew he slept hard because he woke up feeling disoriented. Toby was screaming and RickyJo was coughing. Hard. The lamp by the bed was turned on, and the brightness of it was hurting Merle's burning eyes.

"Uncle Merle!," Toby screamed again, "Somethin's wrong with Aunt Ricky!" The boy slapped at her back, trying to shove a glass of water into her hands. But she was coughing so hard she couldn't even grab the water. She was also naked, which alarmed Merle. RickyJo wasn't shy about her body, but she always made an effort to cover up in front of Toby. Her breasts shook with her efforts and the skin between her ribs almost looked like it was sucking in. That's how hard she was gasping for breath. Merle shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he took control.

"Stop smacking at her," he ordered, catching Toby's hand by the wrist. Merle didn't chastise the boy further. Toby looked frightened and Merle knew he was only trying to help. Merle jumped up from bed and yanked a pair of pants on to cover his own nudity. Then he grabbed a mostly empty bowl from the table and headed around the other side of the bed. Merle held the bowl with his one good hand and rubbed at RickyJo's back with the stump of his wrist.

"Go get someone from medical," he told Toby. Eager to have some instructions on how he could help, Toby took off like a rocket. His dog ran after him, barking as they went. Merle turned his attention back to RickyJo. Her breath was coming in short wheezing gasps, but finally she half barfed half coughed up a disgusting wad of flem into the bowl Merle was holding for her. The flem had a pinkish bloody tinge to it that did not look promising. She looked up at Merle, making eye contact with him for just a few seconds. In that moment, he thought she was going to be alright. He pulled the bowl away and grabbed for the glass of water Toby had been trying to force on her. Then RickyJo's eyes rolled back in her head. She fainted, falling back onto the bed.

Merle pressed his wrist to her head again. He couldn't think of anything else to do. Before, when he had been snuggling against her, she had felt almost pleasantly warm. Now her flesh was on fire. She opened her eyes, but they were rolling back in her head. She arched her back, the muscles in her body all going stiff at the same time. A deep wheezing gasp could be heard as she struggled for air. Merle froze. He felt frightened and helpless, not having the slightest idea of what to do to help her. She went limp again and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. She lay still. Her eyes rolled back in her head, only the whites showing, giving her a ghastly walker like appearance. Her body went stiff again and then she started to convulse.

TWD

Beth could hear the gunshots. She held Judith close, balancing the girl on her hip. In her other hand she held the gun Rick had taught her how to shoot. She wasn't ever going to be a crack shot, but she was proficient enough with the weapon that she knew she could defend herself and Judith if she had to. Judith was a sensitive baby. She could sense the moods of the people around her. And this was no exception. Judith clung to Beth as tightly as the young woman was clinging to her.

When they heard the gunshots, Rick had been talking to her about her pregnancy again. He wanted to tell her father. Beth knew it was past time to tell him. She knew Rick was right. But she had been arguing with him about it anyway. Now she was holding his daughter and waiting for him to come back. Praying that her last words to him were not going to be the angry ones she had spoken right before he grabbed his gun and ran out of the small cell they shared. Waiting on him to come back safe was absolute agony. The seconds ticked by like hours.

Rick did not come back. But Maggie poked her head in as she and Carl passed by with Michonne propped up between them. she asked.

"What's happening," Beth asked, leaving her cell even though Rick had told her to stay put. She followed the trio into the cell that served as a sort of makeshift medical exam room. Her father's cell was on one side of it and Dr. S slept in the cell on the other side. Beth was scared for Michonne, but once the woman was sitting down on the bunk it was obvious that she only had a minor injury to her ankle.

"Don't know," Maggie admitted, the fear and nervousness clear in her tone. She heard the shooting. Rick wasn't the only one in there. Glenn was with him. She was just as afraid as Beth was. But she couldn't exactly drag an injured women into a fight with her just because she wanted to check on her boyfriend. I'm gonna go find out what's happening, Maggie announced once Michonne was deposited safely on the bunk.

"I'm going with you," Beth told her sister. Maggie glanced at the baby in Beth's arms. Beth glanced around. Before the woman could object, Beth shoved Judith into Michonne's arms. Maggie already had a running start and Beth took off down the corridor after her. The day was sunny and bright. After the dimness inside the prison, the light blinded Beth momentarily as she darted out the door. She blinked, one hand coming up to shade her eyes. Rick. She could see him. He was alive and unharmed. Beth didn't see him motioning for her to stop until she was already crushed against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I'm so sorry for what I said before," she mumbled, "I love you."

You've got to get back, he said. Her squeezed her once more, then backed off and gestured for her to stay put. Rick could see the hurt on her face, so he explained his actions quickly. Beth was a sensitive girl and pregnancy had not improved her disposition.

"I've been exposed," he said, "I don't want you to get sick. People in there..." He pointed towards the cell block people were now starting to file out of. "Some of them died from some kind of sickness. Hershel said we've all been exposed."

Beth still looked upset, but she nodded her understanding. One of her small hands came up, the palm pressing flat against the hard bulge of her stomach. And almost unconcious gesture that Rick had noticed her doing more and more lately. Beth did not try to go to him again. She had been afraid for her baby ever since she figured out she was pregnant. Her worst nightmares were about what might happen to her child if they had to leave the safety of the prison. But being scared that something might happen to the baby while it was still tucked safely away inside her brought with it an entirely new swell of emotions. Beth took another step back. She didn't want to get sick. As long as her baby was inside her they were sharing the same immune system. If she got sick, that meant her baby was going to get sick too. She couldn't stand the thought of that.

"I want you to get Carl and Judith," Rick told her, "take enough food and water for a few days and go over into the empty cell block near the prison offices. I'll come get you when it's safe." Rick spoke firmly, anticipating some objections from the girl. But Beth didn't argue with him. She only bobbed her head up and down with a solemn expression on her face that made her look years older than she was. Beth nodded at him, but then her eyes weren't focused on him anymore. They were focused on something behind him. Her face changed. The serious little half frown disappeared as her mouth dropped open. Her eyes went wide with fear as her hand rose from her stomach to point down across the carefully planted crops to the fences beyond.

"The fences!," Beth screamed, finally finding her voice, "Oh god, they're comin' right over them!"

Rick spun, his hand reaching for the gun that wasn't attached to his belt anymore. Not that it was going to help him anyway. There were far too many walkers out there for him to even think about shooting. A massive teeming herd of rotting corpses. More than he had ever seen together in one place before. They must have been out in the woods somewhere. Maybe the gunfire had drawnt them in. Or maybe they would have ended up here at the prison regardless. The outer fence was already giving way. Some of the dead were being literally squeezed through the holes in the chain link like cheese through a grater, pressed in by the sheer force of the massive herd behind them.

From the corner of his eye, Rick saw a flash of copper hair. Then Jessica appeared next to him, peering through the scope on the sniper rifle she favored. She had her finger on the trigger, but then Morgan was pressing his hand down on the top of the gun. He shook his head. Rick knew what the man was thinking without having to ask. Because he was thinking the same thing himself. There were just too many. Even if they used every single last bullet they had, they were never going to be able to take out that many walkers. There was only one choice left. They were going to have to leave this place. They were going to have to run.

** There is a problem with uploading files on the site right now. I had to copy and paste this chapter instead of uploading it and almost all my punctuation got removed in that process. I read through it and checked the text over but I apologize if there are more grammar or spelling errors than usual. **