Hey party-people! I really love you all and I appreciate you folks taking the time to let me know all about your thoughts and feels:) Last chapter was a trip, I dig. If you're still a little wrecked, I would suggest YouTube-ing Bethany Hamilton and Krystal Cantu; two incredible ladies who inspire me.
For Beth, most of the night didn't happen.
Randall and Father Gabriel took turns carrying her. The Fireman's carry was uncomfortable, but practical. She drifted in and out of awareness; in and out of too-damn-drugged-up. She remembered stumbling along, at one point. Probably, they'd asked her if she could walk on her own after they both got too tired. She didn't walk much, she knew that. When the world was still painted with the pale-blue of pre-dawn, she came part-way around, long enough to realize that she was standing on the edge of a road.
Voices talked at her, but she was too groggy to make any sense of it.
Some of the cannibals vanished, only to return in a few minutes with a vehicle that they'd stashed previously, somewhere down the road. She took note of the direction where they were headed, and when none of them were looking, she plucked out a few strands of blonde hair and secured them to the ground with a rock, drawing an arrow.
It all could have been a dream.
She didn't have the will to speak, or to understand the words around her. She tried to collapse to the ground, but someone kept catching her.
It wasn't until dawn that she really woke up.
It was the pain that woke her; pain and shifting. Her whole body rocked, on instinct she tried to lift herself up as her eyes opened and her last properly conscious, panicked seconds came back to her came back like vomit. She pressed one hand into the ground and tried to reach out the other, but the hand that she could still see out of the corner of her eye vanished as her mind adjusted to take in the loss of it. Her stump made contact with the carpeted floor of the moving car and she cried out.
"Shh," someone urged her, a hand that was too frantic to be truly comforting closed on her shoulder. In the dim light, she stared at the damage and the empty air, remembering with painful, loud heartbeats. Her left arm ended at the elbow. It was wrapped and didn't feel like it was bleeding any longer. Someone must have stitched her where she needed it. They gave her drugs too, she could tell from the faraway nature of the pain. It was still there, but it didn't matter like she knew it should. She remembered this sensation from when she'd tried to escape the Termites the first time around.
The hand on her shoulder was dark and heavy. She shied away from it, without really seeing who it belonged to. It took her another few seconds of taking deep breaths and trying not to look at her mutilated arm before she could bring herself to scan her surroundings. She was in the back of an Expedition, rolling along the road. She lifted herself up just enough to see who else was in the car with her. Franco drove with one of the brothers riding shotgun. The other brother was sandwiched between the two girls in the second row of seats.
Instead of a third row, there was just carpet, sticky with sweat and drool. It was where her face had been pressed before she'd awakened. On either side of her were Randall and Father Gabriel, watching her with shared, careful regard.
"Where are we?" she murmured, her throat felt dry.
Sensing the need, Father Gabriel unscrewed the cap off a bottle of water and held it up to her chin. She took it gratefully, still staring at him, waiting for him to answer her.
"Not too far from where we… found you," he admitted. "We only rested for a couple of hours and then we decided to push through the night and get back to camp."
"Rested?" she felt an absurd, insane laugh begin to bubble in the back of her throat. "So, you ate and slept for a few hours," the smile slid off her face. She wasn't sure why it had been there in the first place. A strange euphoria had a hold on her. Maybe it was the drugs. "You didn't eat it, did you?" she whispered.
"No," Randall answered for both of them sharply. "We wouldn't…"
"I've never eaten human flesh," said Gabriel in undertone. "I wasn't about to start with your arm." His expression was a strange mixture of rage and pity.
Unable to hold it back any longer, Beth let out a bark of laughter. She could feel the way the car slowed. She must have startled Franco. She covered her mouth to try and stop herself, but more laughter kept coming. Her eyes were filled with tears in seconds. She couldn't tell whether she was screaming in grief or joy, but the chorus of giggling came out in riotous sobs.
"What the hell did you give her?!" she heard one of the brothers shout.
"Would you shut her up?" said the red-headed woman who Franco had called Hilly.
"Beth. Beth, are you alright?" Father Gabriel didn't look annoyed or disturbed, like everyone else in the Expedition did, he looked concerned. As if he thought she'd lost her mind.
"Why are you laughing?!" Randall hissed, eyes wide, wet and deeply troubled.
"'Cause you went and did the dumbest thing," she drew in a cool breath and managed to stifle the last of it.
Daryl was going to murder them.
That is, if eating infected flesh didn't get them first.
"They all ate it?" she breathed, her tears began to dry as she gasped in a breath, "They ate my arm." Eating bitten flesh had to be at least as bad as being bitten.
"Beth, I am so sorry." Father Gabriel's voice broke, "I'm sorry I couldn't stop it—"
His apology wearied her. She shook her head, the last of the mirth draining out of her. As tempting as it was to open up the hatchback and roll out onto the road, she knew that was not a viable option. Even if the car wasn't locked, she'd lost blood, she was drugged and they'd caught her hours earlier when she was still in fighting trim. Now she was damaged and unsure. It was too soon to tell how this would affect her. She didn't want it to mean anything.
The pale color of her skin stood out to her. She'd always been pretty white, but this was more than that; sallow, sickly. Just the thought of all that red stuff gushing out of her stumped arm a few hours ago made her stomach lurch, even as the car bounced over the road and her stump throbbed. "I gotta lie down," she put her head in Father Gabriel's lap, covering her eyes with her remaining forearm and tried to swallow the bile that was working its way up her throat. "How long have we been on this road?" it seemed to be a winding journey that they were taking. The road had twisted at least twice since she woke, only a moment ago.
"Just twenty minutes or so. You've been out-of-it, all night."
"We traveled through the woods, back to the car?"
"…Yes," Randall answered in a whisper, he'd leaned over her.
"And now we're heading back to your camp?"
"That's right," they sounded worse than she did. Both of them had tremulous voices and lips that shook. They were taking the loss of her arm worse than she was.
Maybe it was just the drugs keeping her level. Maybe she'd come down from it soon and be a wreck, but for the moment, she felt strangely calm. She hadn't died, when so recently she'd been well aware of what a serious possibility that was. She knew that they still planned to kill her. Hilly, the red-head had said as much.
They wanted Beth to be the first new sacrifice in Terminus II.
They'd rested for a few hours the day before, and their trek back to the car had taken them through the darkest hours. Now the sun was coming up again. The timing was rough, but she was fairly certain that it would have been a while before Daryl and the others came back to the water-tower to get them. Still, he'd had all night to track them.
He had to be close on their heels. Even if he lost the clear trail once they reached the road, they weren't far.
They would find one another.
They would always find one another.
In the mean-time, Beth squeezed her eyes shut and listened, breathing steadily and wondering which one of the Termites would cough first.
It was Hilly.
With her chin in one hand, Carol watched Bob examine Beth's bones.
"This is her left ulna and radius," he said about the long thin white bones. They were even thinner and more petite than she would have expected. Beth was a small woman. Her bones still looked like a child's bones. Though they were strong; denser than would have been expected. "Daryl said there were smaller bones too, and broken bits… I'd guess she only lost her forearm, otherwise we would have found her humerus." His tone was heavy, but he didn't sound beaten yet.
In some ways, it made Carol feel bitter to see how readily everyone went along with the plan to track Beth down. But she beat the feeling back, hating herself for even thinking it. It was high time she put the past away. All of it.
Everyone except Daryl was in the jeep, rolling slowly after him as he continued to search for tracks in the dark. Maggie and Glenn clung to one another. It was impossible to tell who was more in need of comfort, but it seemed to Carol that they were supporting one another; holding each other upright.
Abraham, Rosita and Eugene were up front, taking turns driving. The others were all clumped together in the back, surrounded by their bounty from Terminus.
No one suggested that they might want to save fuel.
No one suggested that they should stop to rest for the night.
Even Carol didn't want to. She was done making the hard choices. She just wanted to do what was right. Today, the right thing was to find Beth.
And to come clean.
On the far side of the jeep, Rick sat with Sasha and Tyreese on one side. On the other side, Carl had his head resting in Michonne's lap, but he wasn't sleeping. None of them slept.
Pride begged her to wait until she could get Rick alone, but that same part of her that was fighting hard to beat back everything selfish won out, and she approached Rick at a rocky crawl.
He looked up just in time to see her almost lose her balance as the car lurched. He reached out and caught her with one arm, helping her sit down in front of him. From the expression of concern on his face, Carol guessed that Rick already had a pretty good idea of the spirit in which she was coming to him.
"Did he tell you?" she asked in a quiet voice.
Tyreese and Rick exchanged a look, while Sasha's face hardened against Carol's.
"Yeah. He told me," said Rick, his jaw tight, his eyes burning. "You should have said something sooner. To all of us," his eyes flickered around the jeep. "I can't keep doing this with you Carol. You've got to decide whether you're really a part of this group or not. Decide whether or not you ever really came back, after I sent you away."
At that, Michonne's eyes swiveled in their direction, and Carl's head seemed to lift slightly. She didn't want to throw her eyes around the jeep, but she felt certain that everyone was listening. At least they were trying to hear her over the sound of the jeep's engine.
She nodded, watching the trees race by behind Rick's head. "I know." She was starting to get it, like realizing that she'd been walking with chains around her ankles. "I really do."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it," Rick shook his head, "I'm sorry about Sophie, Mika and Lizzie, I'm sorry about…" his gaze turned away from her. He clenched his jaw again, unable to force the words out, but Carol predicted them.
"I should have forgiven you a long time ago. I tried Rick. I really did. It was never my place to blame you for what happened." She couldn't look him right in the eyes while she admitted this. Try as she might, she kept shrinking, found herself gazing off to one side or another. Most of them could hear her now, her voice had climbed with emotion.
Only Glenn, Maggie and Carl looked like they understood. The rest of the jeep appeared baffled. Carl in particular, met Carol's eyes, his mouth a tight grimace.
"You lost your daughter," Rick managed to choke the words out. "I told her I'd be right back. She said 'don't leave me'."
Carol buried her face in her hands. She knew exactly what that was like now. It was wisdom she didn't want, but she couldn't get rid of it now. It was hers to carry, forever. She couldn't see, but she heard shifting, and felt the car rock a little as someone moved. Carl's hands closed on either shoulder, lifting her up, just enough.
"I miss her too," he said simply.
Oblivious to what was happening in the back of the jeep, Abraham suddenly picked up speed, causing everyone to swing to one side.
Tyreese reached out and caught Carol before she could get hurt, while Rick did the same for Carl, Everyone held onto whatever they could, while the jeep jumbled quickly forward. The trees gave way and the orange light of the sunrise burst through as they leveled out, pulling onto a road.
Daryl stood in the middle of the road, gesturing for them to turn to the left.
"Are we gaining on them?" Maggie asked, momentarily uncurling herself from Glenn to take Daryl's crossbow from him while he climbed into the jeep.
"Yeah," Daryl growled, gesturing to the side of the road. "Found these," he lifted a few strands of long blonde hair for everyone to see, illuminated in the early morning glow, "Next to an arrow scribbled in the dirt. She's showing us the way."
Relief blossomed in Maggie's eyes, "She's alive."
Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read! Your reviews and feedback mean a lot to me, and it totally does affect the direction I take the story, don't doubt that. I'm not really a confident enough writer yet where I can just do whatever the hell I want and assume people will deal with it. I do totally need help, so never hesitate to tell me what you think. But keep in mind that I do feel strongly about some things. And thanks to everyone who reviews as guests, since I can't reply to you personally, you get public appreciation:)
Pompeii – Bastille