Chapter 27
Golden Blood
It only took another day for me to start walking again and as soon as I was on my feet, Dad and Aaron were on the road. We were accompanied by Rosita, Carl, and Tara who were escorting the party as extra muscle. Michonne would stay behind to watch over Alexandria. I wasn't totally sure if any of them, besides Aaron, knew the actual reason for this venture. Dad might've just told them that it was a supply run and a medical checkup for me to be sure my stitches were healing alright. They didn't question it and didn't seem all that concerned or behaved any differently.

We rode horses there and ran into only a few walkers which were easy to handle on our way. Once there, the others went about trading and haggling with our allies while dad took me to the infirmary.

Hilltop had one of the few formally practiced doctors we knew about. Doctor Carson was a real doctor with a degree and an actual license back when the world was alive and thriving. Yeah, he was the real deal.

While I waited in the exam room, Dad took the doctor aside to tell him the truth of this visit along with the full magnitude of it. Before all of that though, he swore the doctor to secrecy and to uphold the Physician's Oath he took when he first graduated from medical school. Only then did Dad finally tell him the truth about this visit. I could tell he was nervous about it. We weren't one hundred percent sure we were able to trust this doctor, but Jesus trusted him and as the leader of Hilltop, we could trust Jesus.

When Dad and Doctor Carson returned there was an expression of disbelief on his face. "And you're sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Alright, well I'm going to run some tests and see what I can come up with."

The first thing he did was check the stitches on my back to be sure they were healing correctly. After a long, tiring inspection, he rewrapped my back and got down to business. The next thing he did was a check up on me. I had never had a regular checkup before and I was wary about what all those peculiar instruments were for, like the strange metal thing connected to two earphones he wore around his neck, or the odd hammer-like thing he knocked against my knee, or the Velcro band he wrapped around my upper arm and pumped up with air.

What was the point of it all? Like the light shining in my eyes and ears? Or when he asked me to open my mouth and he stuck a flat piece of wood inside to lay my tongue flat? I didn't like it. Not one bit. His poking and prodding seemed… invasive.

Towards the end of it all, he measured me, weighed me, tested how long I could hold my breath, and performed about a dozen other things I don't even remember. At last we were winding down to the final moments of the checkup.

I lied back as he took a blood sample from me. The sight of my own blood draining into a syringe made me wince and look away, making me feel a bit queasy. Thankfully, though, it only lasted a moment. He would probably do countless tests with the sample, experimenting with dead blood cells from walkers and living cells from other people and on and on.

Dad and I actually weren't all that needed and we were excused to meet up with other people. Rosita was busy speaking with Earl the blacksmith, while Carl caught up with Maggie and little Hershel. He was so big now. Even bigger than Luis back home and we all sat around a kitchen table talking and passing back anecdotes while we waited. We even played a few board games to pass the time. It was a rare surreal moment when I could just relax with my family.

We had dinner in Maggie's house and I ate ravenously. I needed to build up my strength, and as I bit into the grilled cheese sandwich and chicken chili, I felt it gradually returning to me.

We spent the night at Hilltop, divided within the large house and inside the trailers. Carl, Dad and I all stayed with Maggie and little Hershel, while the rest, bunked in other places. I shared a bed with Carl while Dad spread out on the floor in a sleeping bag.

The next day went by without much upset but around noon we all suddenly turned towards the window as a commotion broke out towards the gate. My heart was in my throat, fearing Saviors or an attack, but I calmed quickly. It looked like a hunting party was returning just then only one of the men was limping against another and there were shouts about needing the doctor. Maggie got up to see what she could do but the rest of us from Alexandria stayed in our spots.

"It doesn't concern us." Dad announced, turning away. "Leave it be."

Despite his insistence, I was concerned all the same and stayed at the window to watch as they carried the man into the infirmary.

After about ten minutes the doctor burst into the trailer and looked towards us.

"What happened?" My dad asked, wondering why the doctor decided to involve us by entering the room. "What's going on?"

"There was an accident. One of our people, David, was out hunting and there was an attack from roamers. They were able to get away but he fell on a knife. There was a lot of blood loss and I need to give him a transfusion. I saw that Judith's blood type was O-negative and was wondering if she wouldn't mind giving a donation."

My instincts to help another person kicked in immediately and I rose to my feet without a word. "Of course. Whatever you need."

But my dad began to stand as well at the mention. "Judith is still recovering. If you need blood I'd much rather…"

"Great thank you very much," The doctor cut him off before he could say more, his hand was on my back and he was steering me towards the door before another word could be said.

I spread out on a bed, watching silently as a needle was inserted in my vein and a long string of red flowed out. Only it seemed to enter in an odd machine that filtered it in two separate bags. One was full of red and the other was the same yellow I strangely mistook to be urine for some bizarre reason.

"What is that?" I said with mixed disgust. "It looks like pee."

"It's not pee. That's a plasma machine." The doctor announced, watching it filter in with me.

"I thought you needed blood."

"I do and it's still blood, it's just sorting the red blood cells from the plasma that's in your blood."

"Oh, so you only need the red blood cells then?"

"Actually, I really only need your plasma. What I'll do is divide the plasma from your blood to use on the patient next door and then I'll transfer the red cells back into you."

"Oh… why do you only need the plasma?"

"Because you're a very small person and I don't want to take too much from you so we'll see how this works for now."

"Well," I said slyly, "I may be small, but I can still wrestle a bear into submission. You have seen the stitches on my back, have you not?"

He smirked. "Yes, you most certainly can."

I went quiet after that, my heart rate increasing and my head getting dizzy the more I watched the red and yellow bags fill. When they were both barely half full he severed the yellow bag and pressed a few buttons on the machine which filtered the red cells back into my arm. Just then, a woman came in bearing a tray of food.

Carson smiled to her and she smiled back. "Yes, thank you, Birdy." Then he turned to me and patted my leg with assurance. "You just sit back and have a snack, alright. You're done for the day. Thank you for your donation." He left with the yellow bag and I was able to lean back and eat a hardboiled egg with some cheese and cider.

We stayed another night with the doctor's insistence. All he would tell my father, was that he was in the middle of something important concerning my case and wanted the bit of time to examine a few more things. We complied and divided up the same as we did the first night, but we would still need to be gone early in the morning.

I slept on my stomach next to Carl, yet sometime in the night I thought I heard something that sounded like an excited yip from a dog. It was so sudden, though and so far away that I wasn't sure if that's what it really was.

When we woke the next day we all gathered round the small foldout table and shared breakfast in the small kitchenette. Just then out of nowhere the door burst opened and Doctor Carson stood in the doorway. He looked beside himself with excitement. Rather than go into detail for the reason behind it, he only looked towards Dad.

"Rick, I need to speak with you right now!"

Confused, he got up and followed the doctor out. My eyes narrowed at their backs and I excused myself to use the bathroom in the back of the trailer. Unbeknownst to them, I crawled through the small window and followed my dad and the doctor back to the med trailer where I climbed atop the roof and used the ceiling hatch to eavesdrop.

"I haven't slept all night." Doctor Carson said wide-eyed and partly crazed.

"What is it?" My father asked in concern and confusion.

"I think… this is so crazy." His hand came up and threaded through his graying hair as if what he was about to say was too crazy to be true. My stomach twisted in knots at the suspense. "I'm not sure if I even believe it myself."

"What is it?" My father persisted.

"Yesterday… when Tom and David got back from hunting, he didn't just have a knife wound." He tried to explain to my father. "He was bit over his left shoulder blade."

"Why are you telling me this? Is he dead?"

The doctor looked entirely animated as he paced around the room. "He's not dead."

"So, the fever hasn't run its full course?"

But the doctor only shook his head with his question.

"David had a fever, but now he doesn't."

I shared my dad's confusion. A bite led to a fever and the fever usually led to death. It was a bit different for everyone and depending on the severity of how bad a person was bitten the fever could take a few hours to as much as a whole day or two.

"I don't think I understand. You're telling me that… he lived? That's not possible."

"That's what I thought. But while I was examining your daughter's blood sample I started running some tests and… it's insane. It shouldn't be fucking possible!" He all but shrieked the last part, totally and utterly unhinged by some wild discovery he had made.

"You didn't need a blood transfusion from her, did you?" My dad seemed to realize.

"I'm just going to come out as say it; I think… I think the cure is in her plasma."

My father didn't move and neither did I, both of us probably not quite processing his words for the longest time.

"The cure?!"

My eyes went wide and I stared at the tops of their heads in disbelief.

No. Way.

"I know that sounds insane, but look at this." He dropped into a rolling chair and turned to a microscope. "When I tested her blood with dead cells collected from roamers, her antibodies seemed to chase the dead cells. Normally the dead ones are supposed to destroy regular living cells, but they're fleeing from hers like her body creates some kind of super-antibodies that can counteract them. I'm not sure if it's possible or not but I think… I think your daughter could very well be the answer to all this."

My dad seemed at a loss for words. "How… how is that possible?"

"I don't know. I have no idea how." He stared at the notes and tools strewn over the desk and he didn't move for a moment as he thought. When he did at last, he spoke carefully. "It could be nothing, but is there any reason to believe this isn't natural. Was Judith ever subjected to testing or experiments?"

Dad looked baffled. "What? No. No, she was born after it all."

"Well, think!" Carson insisted. "Could there be any instance in which Judith was given special treatment or medication."

"No. Of course not. We had nothing those first few years. We lived in an old prison. She never even got her proper shots."

"You said when you first met Eugene and Rosita they were on their way to Washington to fix all this."

"Yeah but that was a con. Eugene never even worked with anyone on such a project."

I saw Doctor Carson's eyes narrow. "Was there anything—anything at all that might be linked to all this? What can you tell me about her birth? Was there anything unusual about it?"

"Unusual?! Of course, it was unusual! There was no doctor, no medication, no nothing. Her mother was dead before she even came into this…" Dad trailed off and there seemed to be something in his face with those words.

Doctor Carson looked at him. "You… you think that could have something to do with it? That the environments in which she was born in might have played a part in her… condition?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Are you sure you had no contact or discussion with anyone like a scientist or a researcher connected to all this madness?"

My dad seemed to freeze at the mention of it and I watched Doctor Carson lean towards him curiously.

"When… when this all began my group and I took shelter in a research lab—a CDC belonging to this scientist. His name was Jenner. He studied airborne pathogens and diseases and he worked next to the people that started all this. He explained how we were all infected, that he was trying to develop a cure for it all, but he never could. We saw how the process happened inside a human brain. His lab was on lockdown and was going to explode-it was a security measure. We were able to escape but he chose to die. Before we left though, he gave us medicinal supplies to help us. I'm not sure if he did anything to it all but there were pregnancy pills with them—two whole bottles of them and my wife…" he trailed off at the memory of it all.

Doctor Carson was speechless. "And you think the pregnancy pills might've been more than just simple vitamins?"

"I'm not sure. It just doesn't seem real. Does that even make sense?"

"I couldn't say. I'd have to see the bottles and pills for myself. But who can really say."

"All this seems far too insane to believe." Dad lowered into a chair trying to find his semblance once again. "This sounds so... science fiction. Too strange and ironic and... I don't know the word?"

"Coincidental?"

Dad nodded at Carson's suggestion.

"Believe me, I understand. But it's not entirely impossible, I know it seems that way. I mean eleven years ago none of us would have believed the dead could ever walk, and now look. If it'll help you understand easier, have you ever heard of a man called James Harrison?"

"The name sounds familiar, but he's probably not the same man I'm thinking of."

"James Harrison," Carson went on, "Is... was a man from Australia whose unusual plasma composition was used to make a treatment for Rhesus disease. He made over one thousand blood donations in his life and those alone were estimated to have saved the lives of over two million unborn babies from the condition. Now if some random man just happened to be the carrier for a treatment like that, then finding such a cure for this epidemic can't possibly be so impossible, right?"

Dad's back hunched over and he held his face in his hands, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

"Rick, there has been nothing that's ever helped before, not like this. David was bitten and is still alive."

There was an unbearable moment of silence between them and I didn't think I could listen to anymore. There were so many things going through my head at the moment. I walked from the hatch and hopped from the roof of the trailer, sprinting to the chicken coops the moment my feet were on the ground. There I paced back and forth, trying to make sense of what the two of them had said.

It wasn't possible. It just couldn't have been. How could I have been the cure? After everything that had happened to us. How could it all have been here… inside of me?

Faces burst in my vision just then: Dianna, Bob, Troy, Brian, Tyrese, Noah… so many people could have been saved. The knowledge and pure agonizing guilt of it all tore me open and ate my insides raw.

It was the worst thing I had ever heard. My chest clenched tightly and I burst into tears right where I stood. It was the most painful cruel irony I had ever known.