CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: DAMAGED!
TRIGGER WARNING: themes of sexual assault and child abuse
Jake slowly followed Carl into the cell, pride pounding in his ears, along with his blood flow. He dragged a giant gym bag behind him, his grin bright across his face. Carl dropped his own bag at the foot of Hershel's bed, and the group of adults turned to look at them.
"I thought you were organizing the food," said Glen, eyeing Jake's bag.
"Even better," said Carl, the same pride Jake felt exploding from his mouth. "Check it out." He nudged his bag with the toe of his shoe.
Lori pulled it open and peered inside. Her body went rigid. "What is this?" The tone of her voice tugged at something in Jake's stomach, and his grin faltered. "Where'd this come from?"
Carl beamed and glanced back at Jake. "We found the infirmary." He grabbed the other bag from Jake and drug it toward the other. "There wasn't much left, but we cleaned it out."
All eyes remained on them, and Jake shrank back a bit, his face burning. He bent to dig bandages from the bag.
Lori's voice dropped. "You boys went by yourselves?"
"Yeah," said Carl.
Jake looked up to see the woman turn in her chair to fully look at her son.
"Are you crazy?"
Carl scowled. "It wasn't a big deal. We killed, what, two walkers?" He looked back at Jake, who nodded.
"Alright." Lori gestured to Hershel, her face draining of color. "Do you see this? This was with the whole group-"
"We needed supplies," Carl said, "So, we got them."
She reached toward his hand. "I appreciate that, but-"
"Then get off my back!" He jerked back, clenching his fists.
"Carl!" Beth gaped at him from her father's side. "She's your mother. You can't talk to her like that."
Lori took a deep breath. "Listen. I think it's great you boys want to help-"
"Forget this-" Carl stormed out and passed Jake.
Jake frowned, letting his eyes touch the adult's shocked faces, then turned, stalking out after his friend.
Carl was nowhere to be found outside the cell, and Jake shifted. He noticed the door out of the block was slightly open. He frowned, gripping his bow.
There was no way Carl would have gone back out on his own, right? He didn't even have a light…
He glanced through all the nearby cell bars, seeing no trace of his friend.
Alex dropped her machete on the table and sat on top, swiping a rag over her blood stained arms. Rick and Daryl joined her, but T headed inside the block to grab some fresh clothes.
Rick watched him go, a small frown playing over his lips. "I don't think he's very happy with our decision."
Alex shrugged, looking at him. "He'll get over it eventually." She scrubbed her legs and neck, able to smell the rotten carnage on her skin. "Honestly, I think we should have killed them. If they clear that cell, they have a set of keys now. There's nothing stopping them from coming after us."
"Let 'em come," said Daryl, emptying his water bottle over his head and rubbing his face. "They ain't gettin' two steps through that door."
"I'm not worried about the rest of them," said Rick. "But if Thomas survives, he'll definitely be out for blood. What should we do?" He ran a hand through his hair and let out an aggravated sigh. "I can't condone going back and slaughtering beaten men."
Alex nodded. "It wouldn't sit well with me, either."
"We'll have to up our guard," said Daryl. "Stay vigilant for the time being."
"And if we catch sight of 'em," Alex finished, shrugging. "Then, we go back and do what we have to."
Rick thought for a long moment, then nodded. "We'll do what needs to be done."
"Carl! Did you come this way?" Jake peered around the corner, seeing nothing. He let out a sigh and stepped out.
He then froze in his tracks as a figure of a man stepped into the hallway up ahead. He quickly aimed his arrow, pulling back easily. The man lifted his hands and stepped forward into the light of the window.
He grinned. "Hey, woah. Don't shoot-I'm alive."
Jake slowly lowered his bow, vaguely recognizing the man. He was one of the prisoners. Alex had told him he was dangerous. Not to go anywhere near him.
"What do you want?" he said, sounding much braver than he felt. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Yeah," he said, striding forward without a care. "I figured I'd wandered too far. I think I'm lost-Think you can help me, little man?"
"No." His grip tightened on his bow. "Turn around and go back the way you came."
"About that…" The man stood just a few feet from Jake now. He lowered his hands, sliding them into his pockets. "A couple walkers are blocking my way back, and I don't have a weapon. I'd be glad to leave, you know, if I could."
Jake bit his lip. "I-I guess I could shoot them…" he frowned, knowing he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near these guys. "But then you have to leave, and-Don't tell my mom I helped you."
"You have a deal, kid. Thanks." He held out his hand. "I can keep a secret. What's your name, anyway?"
Jake grit his teeth.
"Just wanna know who's saving my ass, right now. I'm Thomas." His hand remained outstretched. "I know it seems stupid to get lost, right?" His grin widened.
"I'm Jake," he said, shaking the man's hand. He quickly let go. "Show me to the walkers."
Side by side, they headed back down the hall. Jake kept his eyes in front of him, determined not to speak. Thomas had other plans.
"Hey, man. You any good with that bow? Can you use it?"
Jake snorted. "Yeah."
"How good are you. Like, could you shoot a man from across the courtyard?"
"Yes."
"Hey, that's pretty badass, man."
Jake couldn't help but smile. The other adults treated him like a child, but this guy seemed alright. He looked around, then paused. Where was he? He'd never been to this part of the prison, and hadn't kept track of their path.
"Uh, where did you say the walkers were?" Thomas merely grinned down at him, and he swallowed hard.
"Just a little further," he said, pointing up the hall. "My cell block is just after that."
"I…" Jake's mouth was dry. Something wasn't right. The man's smile didn't seem so friendly so far from the rest of the group. "I think I should go...Sorry."
"Hey, hey. Hold on a second. You can't just leave me alone out here with no way to defend myself. You look like a good kid-You're not gonna just leave me, right?"
Jake shifted and took a step back. "Sorry."he couldn't think of anything else to say. Thomas' smile fell away, and a cruel, dead look crossed his face. "Sorry." He turned to run, but a strong hand grabbed his upper arm and dragged him back. "No!" Jake thrashed. "No, let go of m-"
Blinding light flashed across Jake's eyes as Thomas shoved him, face first into the wall, bouncing his forehead against the glass of the window. Outside, he spotted Beth and Maggie peeling potatoes. They looked so far away.
"You can scream, kid," Thomas said, reaching around him to unsnap the button of Jake's jeans. He kissed the back of his head. "No one's gonna hear you all the way up here."
"No-No! Get off. Stop!" Jake felt sick, and his arms felt too heavy to move. He couldn't think.
There was no air in his lungs as the man's hands slid into the front of his pants, grabbing him. Bile rose into his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his sobs. His teeth ached from clenching them so hard, and his muscles hurt from trembling. He focused on that pain, though-It was better.
His mind wandered his surroundings, even as his jeans dropped around his shoes. Beth and Maggie flung potato skins at one another. A spider sat nearby, spinning a web.
"That's it, kid. Hey, just relax, huh?" His belt jingled.
The walls were rough against his palms, and his quiver felt heavy against his hip. His fingers brushed the feathers of the arrows.
Pain erupted across Jake's shoulder as Thomas bit him, and Jake's hand curled around an arrow. He shoved back, thrusting the arrow tip behind him. He screamed as the arrow sank into something soft and wet.
Thomas yelled, jerking back. His fist slammed against the side of Jake's head, bouncing it off the stone wall as his head snapped to the side. His body followed and he slid across the floor, ripping skin from his arm and hip.
Reeling, dizzy, and nauseous, Jake pulled himself to his feet, tugged his jeans up, and bolted-Bouncing off the walls as he ran.
Thundering footsteps echoed in the halls behind him, and he swallowed the metallic taste in his mouth, pushing himself to run faster. He took the turns at random, losing himself deeper in the maze of the prison. His legs burned and his lungs seized. He couldn't keep running.
Something on the ground caught his foot, and the world tilted. He slammed against the concrete floor, smacking his chin hard. The taste of metal filled his mouth.
Sobbing, and in mid-panic attack, he scrambled onto his hands and knees crawling into a set of bars. He was trapped. "No!"
The sound of keys from the other side of the bars drew his attention, and he gazed up, all fight draining from his body at the sight of Daryl's wide eyes. The door swung open, and he fell forward. Strong hands caught him before he hit the floor. His body trembled uncontrollably and he felt sick. Daryl lifted him into his arms and shouted something that didn't register in Jake's ears. The world was black with bursts of color.
He closed his eyes against the image of Thomas-The feeling of his slimy hands against him and the hard pressure against the back of his thigh.
He couldn't stop the bile from rising, vomiting on Daryl. "I'm sorry," he gasped between the stomach convulsions and the roiling sickness. "I'm sorry."
"Where's T with that water?" Alex said, turning to where he'd disappeared. "This stuff's drying on me. I feel-" Her head snapped toward the door out into the prison as the sound of heavy footsteps reached her. She slid off the table and grabbed her machete. Daryl moved toward the door, raising his crossbow. Then, he froze.
Alex's heart stopped as she heard labored breathing and broken sobs of a child's voice. A voice she recognized.
Daryl hurriedly unlocked the door and knelt, lifting Jake into his arms. He was covered in blood and scrapes, bruises blooming across both sides of his face, trembling. He gripped Daryl's shirt with a fist, his mouth gaping open to speak. All that came out was vomit. His tiny voice shook as he retched, apologizing in an almost inaudible voice.
"Carol!" Daryl yelled, rushing past everyone, clutching Jake's tiny body to his chest. "T, clear a bed!"
Alex was on his heels, her heart in her throat. "Daryl, is he-Did he get bit?"
"I don't see any bites," he said softly.
"What-Oh my God!" Carol met them at the entrance to a cell beside Hershel's. "Get him on the bed-What happened?"
It seemed like everyone was speaking at once, and Alex couldn't tell if it was just her own thoughts. She shoved into the room, dropping to her knees beside Jake, and stroked his head.
"I don't know! He was out in the prison," said Daryl. "He just-collapsed!"
"Jake," Alex muttered, pressing her forehead against the mattress. "Jake, open your eyes." Her fingers pressed against his wrist, and she almost sighed at the strong pulse. "Baby, tell me what's wrong."
"We need to check him for bites," said Carol, sitting him up on the bed. She pulled off his shirt and he jerked. When her hands moved to remove his jeans, his eyes flew open and he thrashed, screaming.
"Don't touch me!" he screamed, wrenching himself against the wall and curling his legs against his chest. "Get away-Get out!" He buried his face in his arms, sobbing quietly.
"Honey, it's okay," Carol said softly. "We just need to see if you were bit."
He shook his head but didn't look up. "I wasn't. Just get away from me."
Alex sagged against the edge of the bed, pressing her back against it. She nodded at the others. "Just go. I've got it." She watched the others leave, but her mind focused on the muffled voice behind her. "I'm still here," she said softly. "I'm not leaving. Just know I'm right here."
Jake didn't respond, but he calmed down a bit. Alex looked up, her eyes meeting those of Daryl as he stood in the doorway.
She wasn't sure if her feelings were well hidden as she sat on the edge of the bed, listening as Jake spilled the day's events to her and Daryl. The shame on his face made her sick.
"I shouldn't have let him trick me," he said in a small voice, the tremors in his body still present as he spoke. "I knew I wasn't supposed to talk to them, but I still went with him. I'm so stupid-"
"No," said Alex, pulling him against her. "You're not." She grit her teeth. "It's not your fault. I should have made sure they were taken care of. I'm sorry. Blame me, it's not your fault."
Daryl's face was murderous, but also cautious. "Jake. When he lured you out...what did he-uh?" He glanced at Alex.
Jake went still in Alex's arms. "He…" he trembled, but seemed to be unable to speak. "He…" His jaw clenched, and tears spilled down his face.
"He touched you?" Alex's voice was cold, even to her own ears. He nodded, body shuddering with fresh sobs. Alex clenched her teeth and hugged him tighter.
As he calmed, his breathing slowed, and he drifted into an uneasy sleep. Alex lay him on the bed and stood, moving past Daryl with a silent rage. He followed her up to their cell, and watched as she pulled open her bag.
"Rick and Glen went that way to check on that group," he said slowly.
"That's fine," she said. Her voice was steady. She tucked her Beretta into her waistband and pulled on the knuckle dusters she'd found.
"Alex," he said. His voice shook slightly.
"I can't," she said, unable to look at him. "Right now, I need you to step back. Stay with Jake. I'm going."
She pulled her hair back as she strode past him. They touched hands briefly, each conveying their emotions and frustration, then she was gone.