It was over an hour's drive, close to two even; back to Hershel's farm. Any cars he and Alana had come across that were in their way, they had already moved them. All Daryl had to do was drive past them. He clipped more than a couple though, the truck bed fishtailing out. There were a few stray walkers on the roads. He didn't even twitch the steering wheel their way, he couldn't spare to waste any time.
They were going to blame him, he knew it. He fucking knew it. He didn't have a clue what he would tell Wilhelm. Didn't know what he would tell any of them. He just needed to get someone to go back with him. She had plenty of ammo. It would last her till he was able to come back with the others to save her. The door was barricaded. It could still be barricaded.
Daryl shook his head. He didn't have to tell them he had heard the door being broken down. That she couldn't even climb out the window onto the roof. He didn't have to tell them that she fired at him, told him to run. That she had gone back into the room without a glance back.
He'd just tell the others that she was trapped in the house. Upstairs. Locked up in a room and they had to go back and get her. Even if no one wanted to go, if they all chalked her up as dead already, Wilhelm would go. He would at least go. That was his sister. He wouldn't just leave her like that.
There was something hot running down his face and Daryl realized he was crying. He punched the seats, using every curse word he could think of.
It was his fault. All over again. He should have never tried to lead them through the cars on the highway. He should have never riled Alana up like that. He shouldn't have said those things. Those stupid, angry little distractions got them in this mess. He didn't have a clue where Sophia was, he admitted that to himself. But he knew exactly where Alana was. At the Brown's house. Upstairs, last room on the right. There was a dresser and bed blocking the door. What was left of the door. Maybe the walkers hadn't gotten in yet, the dresser should hold them back a bit longer. Give Alana enough time to think of something…
She was going to die. He kept thinking it, no matter how much he hated it. She was going to die, all because she saved his ass. She made herself the bait so that the walkers wouldn't follow him. No one risked their neck for Daryl Dixon. No one ever died for Daryl Dixon.
He owed it to her. To go back. And he'd be damned if he didn't make it back to the farm in under an hour.
Shane and Rick had been the first of the three groups to return to the farm. There had been no sign of Sophia on the highway. The supplies and food they had left for her were still there, untouched. The housing development wasn't too large, but it was cramped. The houses were practically on top of each other and the roads curved every which way. It just being the two of them, Rick hadn't wanted to risk going too far in. They checked the first four houses then left. There hadn't been any walkers in them, but there was no telling what was waiting for them further in.
Back at the farm they both took over watch from Dale. Rick watching the road and Shane watching behind the farm, both waiting for the others to come back.
"You really think she's still alive out there?" Shane asked, rolling the baseball bat between his hands. "Know it ain't been that long, but you know the rules. After 48 hours we're not looking to rescue anybody. Becomes recovery."
At first Rick didn't say anything, thinking it over. Half the time he didn't want to admit to Shane that he was right. "Don't matter how much time has gone by, we still have to find her."
Shane shook his head, "I just think it's a waste of time man, that's all. We gonna risk our necks out there for someone who might already be dead."
"Well keep it to yourself. Carol doesn't need to hear any of that. If it was Carl out there I'd be looking night and day for him. If it was Lori out there, I'd be looking." Rick couldn't see it, but Shane tensed when he mentioned Lori.
"We just can't keep it up forever. We need to decide when enough is enough."
Rick cut him off when he heard the truck coming. And it was coming fast. Daryl nearly crashed into the fencing as he turned onto the path leading up to the house.
"What the hell is wrong with them, him letting little Miss German drive?" Shane asked with just a glance back. When he saw that Rick had stood he looked back. "What? What is it? Don't tell me it's really her driving."
"I don't see anyone else in the car."
Rick climbed down the RV speedily, running towards the truck as it got closer and he could see that Daryl really was the only one in it. All the noise he was making with the truck had brought nearly everyone out into the opening.
Daryl flew out from the truck, slamming the door. He started pacing around, grabbing bats and guns from everyone. Rick stood in his way, hands up, as Daryl tried to wrestle the shotgun from Dale's hands.
"Daryl, what's going on? Just tell us what happened. Where's Alana?"
Daryl stopped in his tracks, having yanked the shotgun away from Dale. He stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He kept wiping at his eyes. With the amount he was sweating, the others wouldn't be able to tell he had been crying. Least he hoped they wouldn't.
With everyone staring at him, waiting for an answer, Daryl acted out the only way he knew how. In anger.
"They fucking got us! She locked herself up in a room. I couldn't get to her. I told her I would come back, we'd come back. Where's Wilhelm?" he scanned over the faces of everyone around him, huffing.
"Him and Glenn aren't back yet," Dale told him. "They should be on their way back though—"
Daryl shouted, "We can't fucking wait! That door won't hold forever…I told her to block the door and wait. We need to go now."
It was a lie. More than one lie. They didn't have to know though. They were going to blame him anyways, at least this way maybe they wouldn't be so angry with him.
"We need guns," Daryl told Dale. He was quiet now. Dale nodded, slowly stepping back and then rushing quickly over to the RV.
"Gonna be dark soon," Shane said, kicking at the dirt, hands on his hips.
"Then we need to hurry!" Daryl told him.
"You want us to risk our asses? What if we get stuck out there? You said she blocked the door, if we're gonna go get her we should wait till tomorrow when we have more daylight."
"Daryl," Rick said, taking his attention away from Shane. "How many walkers were there?"
Lie. Lie and they'll go. "I don't know. Sixty maybe. I don't know how many got inside."
Rick looked over at Shane. "That's too many for just one person to fight off. Not when stuck in a room."
"We can't keep dividing the group up like this Rick," Shane said angrily.
"And we can't just leave her out there!" Lori shouted over him. Everyone parted as she stepped forward towards Rick and Daryl. "We protect our own. And she's one of us now." She may not have been happy about Alana and Wilhelm joining the group, but she was going to side with her husband. And losing two good shooters wasn't something they could afford. Having all the guns that Alana and Wilhelm had brought didn't mean a thing if they didn't have enough people to wield them.
"We can't wait for Wilhelm to get back. We'll take Shane's car. We can fit more people in it. Daryl, you know the way, so you'll drive. Now four should do." Rick stared at the others, waiting to see who else would volunteer to help. T-Dog stepped forward. Shaking his head, Shane did as well. "Grab whatever you need," Rick told them before grabbing the pack of guns from Dale and opening it up. "Take everything. We still have Wilhelm's packs inside, if you need them," he said to the others staying behind.
Crouching down in front of Carl, Rick grabbed his shoulder. "I'll be right back, ok? We're just going to get Alana and come back." Carl nodded quickly. He waited till his father turned around before wiping at his eyes. Lori walked over to him.
"They know exactly where she is, they'll bring her back," she reassured him.
"But they knew where Sophia was and then she wasn't there anymore."
Lori couldn't think of anything to say to him as they watched the car speed off.
They had maybe two hours of daylight left.
When the dust had settled that had been kicked up Dale called out to everyone.
Wilhelm and Glenn were back.
Lori and Carl were sitting on the porch with Carol. Andrea was inside the RV cleaning her gun; taking it apart, putting it back together again. Lori told Carl to stay with Carol while she went and spoke with Wilhelm. Andrea came out from the RV. Once they rounded the house Glenn started saying that they had found nothing.
Lori held a hand up at him. Glenn's sentence faded out. Wilhelm looked around, noticing that so many were missing. "What's going on?" he asked, his tone neutral.
"Daryl and Alana ran into some trouble. She got stuck in a house. Daryl came back to get backup. Him, Rick, T-Dog, and Shane went back to the house to get her. They couldn't wait for you to get back. Sun won't be up much longer."
"She have any ammo on her? Anything to defend herself?" Wilhelm asked, breathing through his mouth.
Lori wasn't sure. "Daryl came back, saying he needed more weapons, so yes, I'm sure she had the other guns and that's why he needed more."
Wilhelm ran a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek. "Nothing I can do then, is there? Just…wait for them to come back." He started walking past them, wanting to get back to his tent, clean it up.
"They'll bring her back Wilhelm," Andrea said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. She had trouble with her next words. "Daryl…was upset when he got here. He won't come back without her. Neither will the others." Dale walked up as Andrea finished speaking to Wilhelm.
Wilhelm laughed quietly. "I know what you all are trying to do. I know they'll bring her back, in what state…" he trailed off. He pointed over at the truck. "I'll go through what they brought back. I had told her to get extra pillows and blankets. Clothes too. When everyone gets back we can pick through it, take what we need."
Wilhelm walked off to his tent, setting his stuff down. Poking in he grabbed a bottle of water before heading over to the truck. He exhaled loudly as he lowered the tailgate. Was he worried about Alana? Of course, but what good would worrying do?
Andrea, Dale, Glenn, and Lori were still at the front of the house watching him.
"Does he even care?" Andrea asked. She couldn't believe how casual Wilhelm was acting. Alana could be dead and he wasn't even letting it faze him. "It's like she's already dead to him." Her thoughts turned to Amy.
Dale disagreed. "They only have each other. We can't imagine that he never thought this could happen. He knew it could. He…likely prepared her for this. I mean just look at them, both were in the army. And we don't have a clue what they did. For all we know, they've been trained for situations with no way out."
"I'm going to go talk with Carl. He, he needs to be ready, in case they don't bring Alana back." Lori walked back to the house, sitting down the Carl.
Andrea shook her head. "Why did he ever let her go off with Daryl?"
Dale looked at her with a hint of shock.
Glenn said, "Does that even matter now? If it hadn't been Daryl it would have just been one of us. At least Daryl got out. You so sure you would have gotten out?"
"I'm going to go back to watch," Dale said with a sigh.
"I'll go help Wilhelm—"
"He probably wants to be alone right now son," Dale told him.
Andrea went back into the RV and Glenn was left alone, looking around, trying to figure out what to do besides wait. Then he decided, if they brought Alana back, tomorrow he would head out into the nearby towns and find some soda for her.
As he walked to his tent he could hear the muffled cries of Carl.
Driving down the road Daryl was becoming more upset. The others were telling him to slow down. That they'd make it there in time. There was nothing to worry about. Daryl knew better. With the walkers breaking down the door Alana could already be dead. The more Daryl ignored them, the more the others began to wonder if they were already too late.
There was half an hour before dark when they came down the dirt road leading to the house. Daryl had finally slowed down.
"What the hell is that?" Shane asked, leaning forward from the back seat with T-Dog.
They could see the fallen roof.
And the bodies of the walkers all around the house.
"What the fuck happened here? You ain't telling us everything, are you?" Shane asked, opening the door.
"Does it fucking matter? Couldn't tell you or else you'd all never have come," Daryl bit back, grabbing a shotgun.
"Girl is probably already dead," Shane muttered as Rick and T-Dog exited the car and the group made their way to the house.
"Will you just shut the fuck up?" T-Dog said. "We're bringing her back one way or the other." Daryl looked back at him and T-Dog nodded.
"We check the house first before looking for her," Rick said. He then told T-Dog and Shane to wait outside; if walkers showed up they would clear a path back to the car.
As Daryl and Rick made their way into the house the stench doubled. Tripled. The staircase was littered with bodies. Rick coughed.
"Daryl, I need to know what happened," he whispered. "I know you had no choice, but I need to know what happened. In case the others ask."
Daryl looked up the staircase. "She was standing there, I was looking through the rooms. She had said some shit to me, earlier. I got angry. We were distracted. They started coming in through the door. We tried getting out on the roof but it collapsed."
"She got stuck up there and you came back for help. Doesn't explain the bullet holes in truck," Rick added.
The bottom floor was clear, aside from the bodies.
"I was gonna drive the truck over the roof, so she could jump in. She shot at me."
Rick understood then why Daryl had been so upset when he came back to the house. It hadn't been his choice to come back without Alana. He didn't ask him anymore questions.
It took them forever to make it up the stairs. They couldn't be certain that all the walkers were dead. And they couldn't risk hurrying and slipping, possibly getting scratched by their nails or teeth. Rick led the way up; Daryl would have rushed right up.
Reaching the top of the stairs the two men looked at the rooms. Silence. There was nothing but silence. But they couldn't risk calling out to Alana. And so Rick took the first two rooms on the left. He knew which room Alana was in, but he couldn't risk rushing in there and then getting stuck in there himself. He told Daryl to stay where he was while he checked the rooms.
When he came out from the second room Daryl was gone.
"Daryl!" he hissed in a low voice. "Daryl!"
Daryl had climbed through the broken splinters of the door, stepping over the toppled dresser. There had to have been at least twenty walkers in there. There was no clear spot of floor to be seen. Not even the bed could be seen underneath them. He started pushing the bodies with his foot as he held onto his shotgun, ready to shoot. Rick came in, pausing to take in the scene. It was hard to tell what color the walls had once been, not with all the blood.
He was becoming frantic. Daryl began yanking at the bodies, tossing them aside. He grabbed the bodies of two small children and dragged them away from the corner nearest to the window.
Daryl crumpled to the floor. Something like a sob escaped from him and he bit his knuckles before punching the wall. Rick clambered over the bodies to him.
There was Alana, curled up in the corner, covered in blood. There were large stains of blood and gore on her everywhere. Her fingers were wrapped loosely round her handgun, the barrel in her mouth. Daryl reached out, grabbing her shoulder, trying to pull her towards him. He had to bring her back to Wilhelm.
He pulled her hands down.
The gun went off.
Alana started flaying, scratching at Daryl, screaming "No!" at him. It was her last bullet. It was her bullet. Her bullet.
Daryl grabbed her, pulling her against his chest and keeping her arms pinned at her sides as he crouched down. Rick rushed over, shushing her. He pushed her hair out of her face, wiping the blood off.
"Alana, Alana, shhhh. Alana, it's us. It's Rick. Look at me. It's just Daryl. Daryl has you. You're ok." He tried stilling her head as she shook it side to side. He had to sit on her legs to keep her from kicking him. "Daryl, let her go," he said, "just let her go."
Daryl hesitated, but let her go, scrambling back quickly and standing up. Alana grabbed at the walls, pushing herself away from Daryl and Rick.
"Alana, just look, it's Daryl. He came back." Rick pushed Daryl forward. They needed to calm her down, she was too close to that window. "What did Wilhelm tell you Alana? He told you to do whatever Daryl says, didn't he?" Daryl looked back at him and Rick nodded.
Taking a couple breaths Daryl looked at Alana. He had no idea what to say to her.
"Ya still wanna drive the truck? I'll…I'll take ya out tomorrow."
"He can take you hunting," Rick added. Alana looked at him quickly, then back to Daryl. Daryl nodded.
"Yeah, I'll take you hunting. Maybe we'll catch Bambi."
"I…I can't remember," Alana started, rubbing her head.
"Doesn't matter," Daryl said, stretching a hand out to her. He tried to get a better footing so he could get closer to her. "We just need to get back to the house. Wilhelm's waiting for ya."
"I can't remember if one of them got me. I…I can't remember." It looked like she was trying to cry, but nothing came out. No tears, no sound. She began hyperventilating, clawing at her chest. She slid down the wall.
Daryl rushed forward and grabbed her, scooping her up in his arms. Rick grabbed his shotgun. In the corner where she had been he spotted the rifles and picked them up. There was no time to console her, no time to make sure she would be ok. They just needed to get her out of there. And not say a word to Shane that she didn't know if she had been bitten.
"Open the back!" Rick yelled as they came running out of the house. No other walkers had shown up. Alana had taken all of them out on her own.
T-Dog ran over to the car, opening the back and Daryl came rushing up.
"What was that shot for?" Shane asked, yanking the driver's door open and getting in.
"She freaked out, let's just get back to the farm," Rick told him, his tone letting Shane know to not say anything else.
Rick sat in the back seat with T-Dog, both men leaning over to the back where Daryl was holding on to Alana. She had passed out. T-Dog had grabbed a bottle of water and was pouring it over Alana's face, trying to clean her up.
"Open her mouth," Rick whispered to Daryl. He directed T-Dog to pour the water in Alana's mouth. She started coughing, streaks of blood dribbling down her chin. She opened her eyes slightly, looking over at Rick.
She could feel herself starting to black out again. The last thing she remembered was someone slightly rocking her.
Daryl pulled her head back, resting his hand on her forehead. He looked up at Rick and T-Dog. Without saying a word the other two men knew that Alana had a fever.
The three men said nothing. They only hoped and prayed that it wasn't too late for Alana.
"It's just the heat," Daryl told them halfway back to the farm. "Been stuck in that room, hotter than hell in there. Just needs a cool bath." Rick and T-Dog nodded their heads in hopeful agreement.
Alana woke up again. She started to fight against Daryl, but when he pressed her harder into his chest she stopped.
"It's just Daryl. Alana. Alana, it's just Daryl," Rick told her. She nodded her head, trying to turn around and see him, her eyes wild. She grabbed onto his wrist, assuring herself that it was really him. That he was real. "Here, you need to gurgle some water, alright, spit it back out." Rick held a bottle of water to her mouth and she took a large swig. "That's it, just spit it out, we'll clean it up later. We're almost there. Wilhelm's waiting for you. Just rest now. You're safe."
Alana nodded off slowly.
T-Dog whistled lowly and slid down in his seat.
"She bit?" Shane asked, looking in the rearview mirror.
"Not. Now," Rick told him.
"You sure you wanna be holding her like that? Might bite down on your hand," Shane said to Daryl.
He felt uncomfortable holding her, but he had to, to make sure she wouldn't freak out on them again.
"She ain't bit," Daryl said through gritted teeth.
As they turned on to the road to Hershel's house Rick turned back round and told Daryl, "I'll have Lori take a look at her. She'll be alright." Then he said a bit louder, "If she was bit she wouldn't have had that last bullet."
Soon as Dale had spotted them, using Alana's night vision goggles, the entire group and even Hershel's family came rushing out to surround the car. Wilhelm stood at the front. It was silent as the men got out from the car. Rick walked to the back and opened it. There were gasps as Daryl slid out, still holding Alana. She was awake, but exhausted. She looked about, her eyes still wild, on edge.
"Maggie, go get a bath ready," Hershel ordered. "Patricia, go get my kit. Bring her this way son." He headed over to the house.
"Come on," Wilhelm said, beckoning Daryl to follow him and Hershel. Wilhelm kept his distance as Alana tried to stand on her own feet. She began to wobble and Daryl picked her back up.
"Lori," Rick began, but he didn't have to finish. Lori quickly followed after the others into the house.
She came down the hallway as Hershel was telling Daryl that he had best wait outside. They were taking her into the bathroom. "Once she's cleaned up we'll bring her out into one of the bedrooms," the older man said. Wilhelm took Alana from Daryl and went into the bathroom with Hershel and Patricia. Not knowing what to do, Daryl slid down the wall in front of the bathroom door. Lori walked slowly up to him and took a spot on the floor.
She didn't know what to say, so she tried to smile.
"She shot at the truck," Daryl said after a few minutes. "Didn't want me to try and get her. We were trying to climb out on the roof when it collapsed. She got back inside. I ran to the truck and tried to drive up, but she wouldn't let me." He didn't care much for speaking with the others in the group, but he needed them to know he didn't leave her behind on purpose.
"She didn't want you to get stuck," Lori offered.
"None of y'all care if something happened to me, why the hell should she?" Daryl asked, staring down the door.
Lori patted her knees. "She knew that if something happened to you that no one would come back for her. You both would have died out there. She took a risk and made you leave. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't believe that you would come back Daryl." Lori sighed. "All this time, they've had each other to depend on. They're like you Daryl, if anyone was going to survive in this world no matter what, it would be the three of you. That's why Wilhelm sent her with you. He knew that in the end she would be safe. Who knows how many others they've come across. One thing I do know, none of them have been as strong as those two, as determined to live. Being out there, on their own, if it was worth betting anymore, I'd bet you that before all this started, they were different people. But this world changed, and so they changed with it. We've all felt it, their eyes watching us when we weren't watching them. Sizing us up, trying to figure us out. I'd say they've figured you out Daryl, and that's why they trust you. Why Alana trusts you." Lori laughed ironically. "And I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous."
Daryl furrowed his brow and looked at Lori. "Why's that?" No one was ever jealous of him.
"Earlier, when I said we protect our own…out of everyone in this group, you're probably the first one they'd call their own."
They could hear the water being turned off in the bathroom and Hershel's voice. They were helping Alana out of the tub. They both stood suddenly as the door was opened. Patricia held it while Wilhelm guided Alana out of the room. Her clothes had been tossed at the foot of the tub. The floor was shiny with splattered, bloody water. There was a ring of rusted red around the tub. Alana was still tired; Wilhelm held onto the edges of the towel they had wrapped around her. Daryl hung his head until she had passed him by and was in the room. She left bloodied footprints through the hall. Lori spoke up that Rick had asked her to be in the room with Alana. Hershel made no argument, but asked that she wait until they had Alana in bed. Patricia closed the door to the bedroom, where Carl had slept in just the night before with her and Rick. She then went back into the bathroom to clean up.
Wilhelm opened the door just enough to poke his head out. As Lori stepped forward he pulled the door all the way open. Daryl looked at him, unsure if he should look past him into the room.
"Hershel said she might act out," Wilhelm spoke, when Daryl tried to walk past him down the hall. "Might help if you're in here with her. Help us calm her down."
"I should probably…wash up first," Daryl responded, looking down at himself, blood and who knows what else covering him. Wilhelm nodded and when Patricia passed by he asked her if it would be alright for Daryl to clean up real fast. She quickly grabbed him a clean towel and pushed him into the bathroom. "Just come in when you're ready," Wilhelm said to him before closing the bathroom door.
Daryl stood in front of the sink for a few minutes, not really staring at anything. Everything was blurry, like when you relax your eyes and slowly everything starts to go out of focus. He went to turn on the hot water. He grabbed the nob with the towel, didn't want to get it dirty. He rinsed his face a couple of times, never once looking up in the mirror. Taking a look at his clothes, he was at a loss for what to do.
Patricia knocked at the door. When he opened it she held out a ball of clothes to him. She quickly said how she had gone out to his tent and just grabbed the first things she saw. She apologized for going through his things. She walked away before he could say anything.
He took his time changing. He didn't want to go into that room. Wilhelm appeared calm, but he didn't want to face him. The upside he saw was that at least there would be others in the room. Wilhelm wouldn't try anything with others in the room. He looked around, trying to find a place to put his dirtied clothes. The bathtub was still dirty and so he placed them in there. Would make it easier to clean that way instead of putting them on the floor.
As he stepped out Patricia was coming down the hall again. "I'll wash your clothes for you," she told him, sliding past him and back into the bathroom to continue cleaning. She had already given Hershel his medical kit. And Wilhelm had brought in the pack with his own stash.
He stood before the door, rocking back and forth on his feet. He wasn't sure how loud he should knock. He didn't want to just walk right on in. What if Lori was looking her over? It'd be rude to walk right in. He raised his hand and knocked just above a whisper. Footsteps thudded over to the door and Wilhelm opened it. He ushered Daryl in and pointed him over to an armchair in the corner. Next to the bed.
Wilhelm stood at the foot of the bed. Hershel was going through the medical supplies Wilhelm had brought in. The sheets were pulled back and Alana was lying with just the towel wrapped around her. Daryl kept his head down, only looking at the edge of the bed. When Lori looked over at him and then to Wilhelm, Wilhelm only nodded his head.
"Alana, sweetie, I need to check you, ok? I need to make sure you don't have any, any wounds," Lori said softly to Alana, brushing the hair out of her face. She was awake, but still stunned. Hershel had given her a few swigs of whiskey the moment they got her on the bed. With what she had been through, it didn't take long for it to have an affect on Alana. She slurred an answer to Lori, but she couldn't understand it.
Lori started off by looking at her head, running her hands through her hair, feeling her scalp, making sure her hands came back clean after each run over. Wilhelm had done his best to dry her hair; it was full of tangles. Lori did her best to continuously look at Alana and smile. To give her some sort of comfort even though she doubted that the young woman would remember anything from this night. She checked her arms, raising them up and putting them back down at her sides. Her elbows were a bit beat up, but nothing that wouldn't heal up on its own. Hershel had finished setting aside a couple bottles of medications and turned around to help Lori. He checked Alana's legs. Her knees were torn up something awful. Alana began to whimper and roll her head side to side when he prodded at her knees.
"Shh shh," Lori said to her, stroking her hair. "It's alright." She looked back at Hershel.
"This one's just banged up is all," he told her, indicating Alana's left knee. The right knee was worse. It looked like she had fallen hard on both a couple of times, but that her right one had come in contact with something other than the floor. "I'll need you to help hold her down," he said to Wilhelm. Wilhelm lent down and held her legs to the bed. Hershel grabbed a pair of soft-tipped, long tweezers and began peeling back bits of skin, looking for anything that looked like bite marks.
Alana cried out and tried to push Lori away from her. Lori called out for Daryl to help her. She pulled him forward and had him hold her shoulders down. Alana continued to cry; Lori moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed Alana's head and held it in place, begging her to look only at her, that everything would be ok.
Hershel stood back, hands raised. "Let her go, it's alright. She's alright." They all stood back and watched as Alana curled up on her side, hugging her knees to her chest. "Let her be for a moment." Red splotches began to spread out on the towel from her knees.
When her breathing steadied Lori stepped forward again. "Alana, can you sit up for me?" She reached over and rolled Alana over towards her. She helped her swing her legs over the side of the bed, then she lent down to speak quietly with her. "Do you think you can stand up?" Alana shook her head. "Ok, I'm gonna have Wilhelm hold you up, is that alright? It'll be real fast, I promise." Wilhelm walked over and helped Alana stand. When Hershel began to turn around he motioned for Daryl to do the same.
With her back to him, Wilhelm hooked his arms under Alana's armpits. Lori un-tucked the towel and opened it. There was a gash next to her bellybutton, but it wasn't deep. Within seconds she was wrapping towel back round Alana and Wilhelm was lowering her back onto the bed. Hershel told them to lay her on her stomach. Alana turned her head to the side and stared at Daryl's back.
"How old is that scar?" Hershel asked as they pulled the towel down to Alana's backside. Wilhelm told him maybe two months, three. Daryl turned around to look at what was happening. He made to turn back to the wall, but the pathetic look on Alana's face stopped him. She looked helpless. And frightened. When he looked at her back he saw why.
The scar went from her nape, cutting across her back and ending just above her backside. At some parts it was deeper than at others, wider here then thinner there, as if the man who had done that to her had twisted the knife as it cut into her. On her left shoulder, where the scar was the deepest and widest, a chunk of the scar had been torn away.
Alana already knew what was coming next. She reached out to Daryl as she felt Wilhelm put his weight on the bed, pushing her legs into it. Lori sat on the bed and pushed down at her waist. Alana reached out to Daryl, her fingers clawing at the sheets. With a fear of his own he sat down on the bed and grabbed her hand. Alana took a great gulp right before Hershel began digging around in the wound.
At first Daryl let her squeeze with all that she could on his hand. Didn't hurt that much. But when she turned her head away from him he began to panic. Maybe he was doing something wrong. And so he gently squeezed back. Over her cries Daryl could hear Hershel say that he couldn't stitch the wound back up. They'd have to cauterize it. Alana began to choke on her cries and sobs. Daryl squeezed harder. When he looked up at Lori she was biting down on her bottom lip, tears falling down her face. But Wilhelm was calm. He continued to hold Alana down as Hershel cleaned out the wound.
Hershel hollered out for Patricia. Seconds later she was there in the room. "Get the iron and take it to the kitchen," he told her. Her face whitened for a moment and then Patricia left. Hershel pulled back from the bed and so did the others, allowing Alana to move freely. She instantly turned to her side again, facing Daryl, and clung to his arm.
Hershel pulled Wilhelm out of the room. "I can't tell if she was bitten," he said in a low voice. "All I can do is close it up for now and wait. With her other wounds, I can't tell with them either. We just have to wait."
Wilhelm nodded. "I understand."
"Now she does have a fever, but that could be from exhaustion, being cooped up in that house for so long. We'll just have to wait and see. If it's just a plain old fever, it should go down in the next hour or so." Hershel walked off into the kitchen where he poured rubbing alcohol over the iron and wiped it down before plugging it in. He stood there and waited for it to get hot.
Wilhelm walked back into the room. Lori was running her fingers through Alana's hair and Daryl was still holding onto her hand. Alana looked over when he came back in.
"Hey," he said to her, sitting on the side of the bed next to Daryl. He patted her leg. "Hershel's going to fix that wound on your back, but it's going to hurt. When he comes back in here, don't look at him, ok? Just keep looking at Daryl. Don't look away from him." The door opened and Hershel walked in, Patricia behind him. Alana began crying again, inching closer to Daryl, reaching out to him with her other hand. She kicked at Wilhelm as he tried to flip her back on to her stomach, his knee digging into the bottom of her spine. Alana clawed out at Daryl and Lori, trying to find anyone. "Hold her down!" Wilhelm shouted above her cries. Lori grabbed her right arm. Daryl reached for her left. Patricia grabbed her legs and held them down, crawling on to the bed and having to sit on them. Alana began to scream. Wilhelm reached forward and tugged her head to the side. "Only look at him!" he shouted at her.
"Hold her shoulder down," Hershel told Daryl, pointing to her left one. Daryl blinked his eyes a few times. With one knee on the bed he intertwined their arms together and with his right hand pushed her shoulder into the mattress.
Alana tried to pick her head up, to see, but Wilhelm scolded her. "Stop that! Don't look up, just look at Daryl. Look at him Alana!"
The room became silent as a sickening sizzling filled the room along with a horrible stench. Hershel had given no warning, but the moment the iron touched her flesh Alana became quiet and all she could do was stare into deep blue eyes.