Chapter Eleven

Tuesday

Willa and I stood before the group. It was our turn to teach everyone a thing or two about first aid. Patricia already knew what we were going to be talking about, so she agreed to help. Jimmy somehow convinced Hershel to let him help him with the work that needed to be completed on the farm. Lori, Carol, Beth, Dale, and Maggie looked ready to learn, excited even. The other members of the group, not so much. Shane had his shoes propped up on a tree with his hat over his face. Rick's gaze was focused on the field as he pretended to look for walkers. Daryl looked up at me, but spent the majority of his time sharpening his knife. Andrea kept reloading and unloading her gun, now that Hershel had given the okay to carry weapons as we saw fit. Glenn couldn't take his eyes off Maggie. T made fun of Glenn for not being able to take his eyes off of Maggie. And Addy and Carl played tic-tac-toe in the dirt while Sophia anxiously awaited her turn.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off a headache. I looked to Willa, who looked just as annoyed as I felt. She had been a charge nurse on a trauma unit for nearly four years. She wasn't accustomed to people not taking her seriously when it came to anything medically related. I, being a first year surgical resident, was more or less used to it.

My eyes found Daryl's again, and even though I couldn't help but to blush under his gaze, I still felt the same contentment run through my body as it had done yesterday when we kissed. He shot me his half grin, half smirk that made me want to devour his lips all over again.

"Maybe we could do a simulation," Willa suggested.

"I could simulate something," Shane laughed as he held his fist to his mouth, gesturing oral sex.

I narrowed my eyes at him and turned to Willa. "Ew," I deadpanned.

She giggled to herself, but clapped her hands together. "Okay, Charlie is going to hand out pieces of paper randomly that will let you know what group you're in." She nodded at me, queuing the handing out of paper. I tried not to roll my eyes as I did as she asked.

As I passed next to Daryl, I felt his fingertips glide over the back of my bare thighs. I had learned quickly that like any good redneck, Daryl appreciated a pair of cut off blue jean shorts. He didn't linger and his touch was soft, almost like butterfly kisses, but it did something to me. Chills ran over my body, causing me to gasp lightly, just enough for him to hear me. After our kiss yesterday, we rode back to the farm and while we spent a good part of the evening together, it was difficult to find the privacy to relive the moment we had at the shooting range. I looked over my shoulder at Daryl, shooting him a knowing smile, before taking my spot in the back of the group.

Team A was Willa's and Team B was Patricia's. Both of them were to be "stabbed" and their team had to work together to save them. I was supposed to offer advice when needed, but mostly stand back and let the teams work amongst themselves. Watching everyone distribute to their designated teams was amusing enough, Rick and Shane obviously not wanting to be a part of the exercise. Daryl lingered back as well, but I had a feeling it had just as much to do with me than with his distaste for the team building and life training exercises. I was planning on letting it unravel as much as possible without my interference.

"What are you doing after this?" I asked Daryl.

He stood beside me, our arms touching as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Ya askin' me out, Cherry?"

I shrugged, but was sporting a sly smile. "Maybe." I looked to Willa, who was waving me over. I joined her group, Daryl following behind me to stand a few feet away from Patricia's group.

The remainder of the exercise took less than forty-five minutes and it was successful in the sense that Willa felt comfortable with everyone's skill level. This was a more "patch up this person before they die" type thing and not actually focusing on preventing infection or long term death, but it was something tangible for everyone to hold onto. Sometimes, people needed that- something tangible to be hopeful.

"What did ya have in mind?" Daryl asked as he stepped towards me.

I looked up from cleaning the set of tools we had used in the simulation and slid to the side, offering him a seat next to me on the bench. I actually hadn't thought very much about what we would do, just that I had an overwhelming desire to be near him. "I was going to suggest mud wrestling, but turns out we're all out of mud."

Daryl chuckled, sitting next to me. His legs were spread wide as he leaned back on the bench, supporting his weight on the palms of his hands.

I could feel his eyes on my back, so I moved my braid to the side as subtly as possible. Daryl remained silent, so I turned my head to the side to look at him. His gaze was locked on the visible portion of my neck and back.

"You can touch me, you know," I said softly. His eyes darted to my face as I turned more to the side to face him. I put my hand on his thigh and leaned towards him.

Daryl didn't budge, not even a flinch, nor did his facial expression change. It was incredibly difficult to read a man when he wears the same expression year-round.

"Only if you want to," I added, locking eyes with him.

Still, he remained stoic, his chest rising and falling in a smooth and slow rhythm.

Suddenly, feeling self conscious, I started to move my hand from him when he gently, but sternly held onto my wrist. "I do," he said, his voice raspy.

I allowed my hand to rest on his thigh once more and this time, he kept his hand on mine. A small smile crept across his face, causing me to blush and look away. The two of us stayed on that bench until nightfall. I finished cleaning the medical tools while Daryl made and sharpened a dozen or so arrows.

For the most part, Daryl and I sat in comfortable silence. Every so often, he would lay down his tools and find a piece of my hair that had fallen out of my braid and use that time to run his fingers down the nape of my neck. During those moments, I would take in a deep breath and close my eyes, focusing on his touch. It sent waves of electricity through my body and caused my chest to rise and fall faster than I cared to admit. If this is how my body reacted when Daryl grazed my skin, I could only imagine the shock waves that would over take my nervous system if we were to move forward with a physical relationship.

Wednesday

With everyone's belly full after dinner, tension amongst the group was at an all time low. It had become almost a ritual to sit with each other, if only for a few moments after we ate. I could feel this group start to become more… more of a family.

My attention was directed at Beth, who started lightly strumming her guitar as she sat next to Jimmy. Jimmy took the guitar from her, picking up where she left off and whispered something to her. He didn't play very well, but he must have been trying to teach himself so that he could play for Beth. It was working; I could see Beth's face light up as she got to her feet. Maggie, who was standing a few feet away, shook her head and started to backup. Beth rushed her older sister and pulled her towards Jimmy. Maggie's shoulders dropped, signaling her surrender, but not before she pulled Willa into the mix.

A smile took over my face as I watched the three young women hum in unison, giving themselves a moment to warm up.

"Well, I was borned a coal miner's daughter
In a cabin, on a hill in Butcher Holler
We were poor but we had love
That's the one thing that daddy made sure of
He shoveled coal to make a poor man's dollar"

"Why ain't ya up there?" Daryl asked as he stood over me.

I leaned back slightly, stretching my arms under me. "I guess I didn't get the singing gene," I smiled slightly.

Daryl plopped down next to me and looked me over. "Ya guess? Ya don't like to sing?"

"My daddy worked all night in the Van Lear coal mines

All day long in the field a hoin' corn

Mommy rocked the babies at night

And read the Bible by the coal oil light

And ever' thing would start all over come break of morn"

I bit my lower lip and let out a small sigh. I didn't owe this to Daryl, to tell him. It wasn't even something my family spoke about. It was just something that was. "What I meant to say was that I definitely don't have that gene." I paused, to see if Daryl would come to the conclusion on his own, but of course he didn't. I was too vague and he had no evidence to think what I was about to confess. "I'm not related to Maggie or Beth by blood." I picked at a nonexistent hangnail before continuing. "Willa's father, Hershel's brother, isn't my biological father."

"Daddy loved and raised eight kids on a miner's pay

Mommy scrubbed our clothes on a washboard ever' day

Why I've seen her fingers bleed

To complain, there was no need

She'd smile in mommy's understanding way"

If Daryl was blown away by this new information, he didn't show it. He looked over at them and then back to me, but didn't say anything. He nodded slowly, acknowledging that he both heard and understood what I had said.

"My mother and Willa's father, Peter, split up for half a year or so when Willa was three. She met my birth father, Nicolas, and when she realized she still wanted to be with Peter, she left my father." I felt so weird to say this, but to remind myself of it as well. My mother had been so young when she met my father, her eagerness to leave her own childhood home could have played a role into getting married so early. A part of me felt relieved when I found out- that she and Peter split up and she went back to him. I don't know this for certain, but she must have really loved him. Growing up, I would have never guessed that Peter wasn't my biological father. He showed nothing but love to my mother, my sister, and to me.

"In the summertime we didn't have shoes to wear

But in the wintertime we'd all get a brand new pair

From a mail order catalog

Money made from selling a hog

Daddy always managed to get the money somewhere"

"She didn't even know she was pregnant. Peter didn't care, but when I came out a little more tan than either of them, they figured it out pretty quickly." I paused to extend my arm. "Nicolas was Colombian," I explained.

Daryl looked me over for a long minute, making me blush slightly as his eyes fell over me. "Here, I was thinkin' that ya was just tan."

My lips curled up into a big smile and pushed my shoulder against his.

"Well a lot of things have changed since a way back then

And it's so good to be back home again

Not much left but the floor, nothing lives here anymore

Except the memory of a coal miner's daughter"

"Did ya ever meet him?"

I got to my feet and extended my hands to Daryl. "Once," I said without elaboration. That was a story for another time.

Daryl took my hands and allowed me to pull him to his feet. "I ain't gonna dance."

"I actually had something else in mind," I smiled. I led him away from the group, near the horse field. For some reason, I was always drawn to this area and to have Daryl by my side here. It was peaceful, almost separate from the rest of the farm. Leaning against the fence, I pulled him into me and rested my arms around his neck.

Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but gently gripped my hips. I could tell he wasn't sure what was expected of him, and that made him nervous. "What ya want, Cherry?" He asked. His voice was raspier than it had been at the fire, which made my knees go weak.

"You," I replied, softly, scanning his eyes and face for a reaction that he didn't give. He was a solid as stone, this one.

"Oh yah?"

I nodded, closing my eyes. My lips found his easily and the moment our kiss deepened, I felt his hands travel up my back, under my shirt. I let out a small gasp as his calloused hands greedily surveyed my skin. I couldn't keep my hands out of his hair and when I pulled it tightly between my fingers, a growl escaped his lips.

"Cherry," he warned, lightly panting as he pressed his forehead against mine.

I led a trail of kisses down the side of his neck before gently nibbling his ear. "What is it, tiger?"

One of his hands grabbed my face and pulled me into his lips. The sudden movement made me moan into his mouth and I felt his other hand travel down my side until it clamped onto my waist. I opened my mouth wider and welcomed his tongue as he pressed his body further into mine, causing me to stumble backwards into the fence. One of us moaned, or maybe both of us as he gripped my low ponytail, pulling my head further back.

Without warning, Daryl pulled away from me and took a step back. I titled my head to the side and bit my lower lip. I'm sure confusion was spread across my face as I stood awkwardly in front of him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Nah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

I took a step towards him. "I thought we were having a… good time?"

He nodded. "What all did he do to you?"

I crossed my arms against my chest, knowing who "he" was immediately. "What?"

"Ya said that he forced ya to take a bath-"

"I know what I said. I lived through it," I said, cutting Daryl off, not wanting this conversation to start. "Why does it matter?"

He shrugged. "It don't."

My eyes glared at him. "Obviously it does."

He shook his head. "Honest to god, Charlie, it don't."

"Then why ask?" I'm sure my tone was harsher than I had meant it, but I was on the defence on why Daryl would have asked if it didn't mean something to him. Then I saw his face, the look of sympathy. "Oh," I scoffed. "You think that you have to be extra gentle with me?"

He stepped closer to me. "Is that bad?"

"Yes," I answered honesty. "If it's because of him, then yes."

He titled his head to the side, biting his thumb nail. "Ain't meant it like that." His tone was soft and I could tell that he was being genuine.

"I'll… um… see you in the morning," I stammered. I needed to remove myself from the situation. I supposed I could have stayed to try to talk it out, but sometimes that was just too difficult. Reliving those moments did more harm than good some says. "Unless you don't want to."

"Nah," he said. "I'll see ya in the mornin'."

I looked over my shoulder at Daryl as I walked past him to see that he hadn't taken his eyes off of me. I knew I could have been being dramatic, but the idea of talking about Jerry when Daryl welcomingly had his hands all over me didn't sit right. There was a time and a place to talk about it, and when my tongue was down his throat wasn't ideal. Honestly, I hoped he wouldn't bring it up tomorrow morning for our hand-to-hand training session.

Thursday

I stood outside of Daryl's tent, my hands awkwardly finding the back pockets of my jeans. Maybe he thought I wasn't going to come because of our… disagreement last night, or whatever you could call it. But before I could say anything, Daryl unzipped the flap and grinned at me. He looked happy to see me, as happy as a stoic redneck could look. "Yur late."

Crossing my arms, I stepped back to give him room to join me. "Didn't peg you for the punctual type."

He scoffed, grabbing his pack and throwing it on his shoulders. "Were ya ever late fur yur surgeries?"

Daryl was most definitely making small talk, something I knew he loathed. "Not a one, but I did basically live at the hospital." Was he trying to make up for how he brought up Jerry?

Daryl nodded in the direction of the creek and I met his stride, walking beside him. "Ya miss it?"

I nodded slowly. "In that setting, anyway. The idea of having to operate on one of us again… it's terrifying." I could go the rest of my life without having to put my hands in anyone's abdominal cavity again. Surgeries before were always a gamble, no matter how prepared one was; surgeries now are like playing a game of Russian roulette. He nodded. I had to keep myself from staring at his profile; I could get lost in strong features. I guess I wouldn't stay mad at him, especially for something he had no idea how to go about bringing up. Last night was an honest mistake. "So what do you have planned?"

He looked at me and gave me his half smile, half smirk. "Ya'll see."

I smiled back at him, adjusting the strap of my bag. We walked in comfortable silence for about half a mile, taking in the early morning and appreciating the crispness in the air. Daryl tossed his bag down and took mine from me, placing it next to his.

"A'right, Cherry," he said with a broad stance. "Need to work on yur self defence."

I cocked both my left eyebrow and hips as I crossed my arms. "Do I?"

He nodded. "Fur whatever reason, ya ain't workin' with Rick so yur gonna' work with me."

"Is this payback for the other day? I didn't make you participate. You need to take that up with Willa."

"Ain't 'bout that," he said. "Fur yur own good."

I bit my lower lip, feeling nervous about the exercise. I didn't attend the self defence "classes" that Rick and Shane held because while I was actively working on my comfort level around guns, I wasn't exactly ready to be around the cop aspect of my past trauma. Rick, I could tell, was a good and solid man, but there was still the memory of my trauma that plagued me. I knew when to push myself and when to ride the wave. "So what? I just…"

"Come at me." He made it sound so casual, as if this was something we did daily.

Feeling very much out of my element and already slightly unsure of how this was going to unravel, I light shoved Daryl, and instinctively he grabbed my wrist.

"Come on, Cherry." He didn't seem surprised about my lack of enthusiasm, but I could tell he was taking this seriously.

With Daryl's hand still on my wrist, I stood my ground and moved my arm at an angle that he could not accommodate by moving my arm down and touching my elbow into his forearm. With my elbow pressing against his forearm, he was forced to let go of me. I stepped back as he stepped toward me and grabbed me around my waist with my arms pinned to my side. I dropped down, my weight pulling Daryl in my direction. When he stumbled forward, I pulled my arms free and was able to push him off of me.

"Not bad," he admitted. "But how good are yur attacks?"

Now it was my turn to admit something. "Not so great unless I have a knife."

"Try. Ya ain't always gonna' have a weapon."

Without hesitation, I lunged forward with my fists balled in an attempt to strike him. Daryl caught my fist with ease and pulled me into him in one movement. He turned me around so that my back was against his chest as he grabbed my other wrist. With a thud, my back pressed against his solid chest harder as I attempted to get free of his grasp. I could smell the cigarette smoke coming from his sleeveless button down flannel and his light musk. I had to focus on not focusing on how his smell made my knees weak.

"Come on," he almost taunted, his breath lingering on the back of my neck. The heat of it sent chills down my spine. He was making focusing way more difficult than he knew.

I tried to head-butt him, but he was too fast and easily dodged the attack. I put my left foot in-between his feet, attempting to trip and bring him to the ground. When that didn't work, I reached my hands over my head so that I could grab onto Daryl's neck. He took his hands off me to put his hands over mine. He was able to remove my hands from the chokehold, but I was also able to get away. I turned to face him and let out a deep breath. With flushed cheeks, I stepped towards him, aiming my fist at the side of his face. He grabbed my fist and I winced at the pressure.

"Hurt, don't it?" He asked as he let go. When I nodded, he continued. "Tuck yur thumb over your middle finger," he instructed. "If ya don't, yur gonna' hurt yourself." I did as he advised and he nodded. "Tuck yur right hand against your chin and raise yur left."

Again, I followed his direction.

He lightly pushed the back of my knee with his foot. "Keep yur knees bent a little." He looked me over. "When yur ready to take the hit, turn yur foot and knee," he said as he physically moved my knee and adjusted my foot. With him now standing behind me, he put his hands on my hips. My breath hitched in my chest slightly as his strong grip. "Turn yur hips where ya wanna' hit and," he said as he pushed my right arm forward. "Take yur hit." He took his hands off of me and stepped to face me. "Got it?"

With flushed cheeks, I nodded. "I think so."

"Try it again." The first couple of times I practiced the technique Daryl just showed me, he blocked my hits easily. "Come on, Cherry. Try harder."

Not wanting to give up, I charged him. While he was able to steady me, I was able to finally get a single hit on him. My small fist collided to the side of his face and while he was slightly thrown off balance, I was able to knock his feet out from under him. Daryl caught himself easily, but I was able to push him forward, knocking him fully on his ass. The momentum it took for me to knock him down made me lose my balance and I stumbled towards him, falling into his lap. Daryl grabbed onto my wrists once again and flung me onto the ground and pinned me down. I looked up at him, sweat glistening off his brow and neck. Our faces were now inches apart as his eyes met mine.

I bit my lower lip, unsure of what was going to happen next. I could feel my chest rising and falling heatedly as Daryl lay on top of me. I arched my back, into Daryl, which was more of a reflex than anything. He noticed and tightened the grip on my wrists. The thin material of my t-shirt and even thinner material of my bra and his shirt were the only things keeping the skin of our chests from touching.

"Daryl," I whimpered underneath him, the weight of his body pressing against me.

He pushed himself off of me and got to his feet. "Damn it, Charlie," he cursed.

I sat up, taken aback by his sudden outburst. "What?"

"I'm tryin' to make sure ya ain't an easy target out there."

I got to my feet and wiped the dirt from the back of my jeans, my chest still rising and falling quickly, but now more from anger than arousal. "I wouldn't say that I'm an easy target."

"Ya know what I mean."

I crossed my arms and watched as he paced back and forth. "No, no I don't."

He pointed to my head, halting. "Sometimes ya ain't in the game out there."

I knew what he meant, and he had a point… to an extent. Still, I felt he was off base. "I survived out there for weeks before we made it here."

"Willa's husband paid the price."

My mouth opened slightly as I titled my head to the side. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then prove me wrong."

I shook my head. "I don't have to prove anything to you." I stanched up my pack and slung it over my shoulder. "Good luck on the run tomorrow."

Friday

The morning was off to a slow start, something that I was far from accustomed to. My thoughts wandered back and forth from Daryl to the chores I was trying to find to complete. For the second time, he meant well, but he was lacking tact. My blood wasn't boiling at the thought of his words, though I felt at least somewhat attacked by what he said.

Carl passed his six week check-up with flying colors, and as always, Lori was there to thank me mercilessly. I smiled politely and while I appreciated her thanks, it wasn't necessary. We had all become close, and I had begun to trust Lori more, after she was there for Beth when she tried to take her own life.

Patricia was still grieving for Ottis and times like this, it was easy to tell. She was over the moon with how well Carl had recovered, but it was still a reminder that while Carl was alive, Otis was not. In my mind, Ottis' death was more related to Shane's lack of humanity as he escaped the horde. I still found myself avoiding him whenever I could, but trying to do so in a subtle way. I couldn't believe how much our community of people loved to talk and speculate. It was like I had never left the hospital.

"Do you need me?" Patricia asked.

I shook my head and thanked her. I hadn't needed her to begin with, but she insisted upon helping. She wanted to see Carl through to his full recovery. Hershel and Willa had distanced themselves from working with Carl, not for any reason in particular, other than it wasn't needed.

Beth was waiting outside of Hershe's office when I walked out of it and into the hallway. "You okay?" I asked.

She nodded, but didn't move from the chair outside the office door.

"Do you want to come in?"

"If you have a minute," she said meekly.

I had all the time in the world, but instead of saying that because I was still annoyed I didn't go on the run with Rick, Daryl, T, Shane, and even Andrea, I told Beth that she was welcomed into the office. I had made it a point to avoid Daryl after yesterday's encounter and told Rick in private that I would stay behind. He was perplexed, but he knew he had enough people going on the run that my going wouldn't throw off the outcome.

I watched the youngest Greene sister slowly walk into the office. Her demeanor worried me a little, but instead of jumping the gun, I closed the door and leaned against Hersehl's oak desk. "What's going on?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"What do you know about birth control?" She asked.

Suddenly it made sense why she was coming to me now. Hershel and Willa had taken Addy for a walk (Hershel refused to let Willa do anything physical without his or my presence), so we wouldn't be interrupted by Hershel's return for at least another half hour. Today, Maggie and Glenn joined them, so it was even less likely of an interruption.

"I know it's something that has to be taken consistently to be effective. Even taken every day, there's still a possibility of becoming pregnant." We did not need another pregnant lady to add to the list, never mind the fact that Beth was just sixteen. Lori and Willa hit our quota and then some of women growing babies in their wombs.

She nodded, looking down at her feet.

"Listen, Beth, I know you're having certain…" oh god, kill me now, please, "feelings. It can only be heightened by the state of the world right now." I cleared my throat, and avoided eye contact when she looked at me. How was I the one having the talk with Beth right now? "And acting on those feelings is completely normal, healthy even, when you're doing it safely and with the right person."

"Oh god," she groaned leaning against the wall, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. "I know all of that. I was just asking if you knew where I could find some pills or something."

Thank god. "Oh, uh, no. The thing with pills is that you have to take them everyday. It's difficult to say if we could keep… you...stocked?" I paused. "There are other methods."

"Like?"

"Um… condoms. An IUD, vaginal rings...diaphragm, but again some of those would be difficult to locate at all times."

"What do you use?"

I rolled my sleeve to show her the implant I had in my right upper arm. "It's an implant, typically lasts for five years." And thankfully, I was good for another four. Too bad there was no sex for me to be having at the moment.

"How do I get one of those?"

"I don't really think this is an option these days."

"Oh." She looked down at her feet.

"I'll keep an eye out for condoms on our runs," I said. "For now that'll have to do."

She looked back at me with a shy smile. "Can we keep this between us?"

Uh, yeah. No way was I going to have this awkward conversation with Hershel. "Of course."

She hugged my neck quickly before all but sprinting out of the office.

As I followed her out, I shook my head. At least before the world went to shit, she could have gone to planned parenthood. Maybe I should have stressed abstinence? Did that even work? I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off a headache as I walked outside. With no sign of Willa and the others, I plopped down on one of the rocking chairs and contemplated the idea of seducing Daryl.

As if imagining him naked worked, I heard his motorcycle leading the way with Rick's car not too far behind and Shane's SUV right behind him. It looked like they had all made it back safely. Dale and Carol stepped out of the RV to welcome the group back as Lori tried without success to get Sophia and Carl to focus on whatever school lesson she was instructing.

Daryl all but jumped off his motorcycle and waved in my direction. "Charlie!"

Hearing the panic in his voice, I took off down the steps to meet him in the driveway. Anxiety rushed through me, wondering who had been injured, a knot forming in my stomach. I had complained about a slow day and now I was paying the price.

Before I could even ask what had happened, Daryl started to explain the situation. "An old man saved our asses out there. But he fell down some stairs-"

"How many?"

"Shit, uh, ten? Twelve? He landed on a pipe."

He should have led with that. "Did you remove the pipe?"

"Nah, Rick didn't think it was a good idea."

Good, because if they had, he more than likely would have bled out on the way here. "Okay, do you know where he was impaled?"

"Upper leg, uh… thigh."

I nodded. "Carol!" I yelled as she started walking towards us. "I'm going to need Patricia!" I stepped back as Shane and Rick pulled up beside us. Everyone jumped out of the vehicles and I looked to Rick. "Where is he?"

"Here," Shane said, opening the back seat of the SUV. His voice was cold and he moved with a tenseness to him that I had never witnessed before. Shane wasn't happy they had brought back the injured man.

I let out a deep breath, preparing myself for the steps that were about to come next. Rushing to the door, I saw the man lying on his back, his feet facing me. Someone had already cut off the jeans on his left side, making it easy to inspect his wound. Andrea had his head, which was covered with a cloth bag, in her lap, telling him that they had made it and he was going to be fine now. I looked to Rick and then to Shane. They had covered his head with the bag so that he couldn't see where he was being taken.

The man's chest rose and fell quickly, trying to catch his breath.

"Make sure he doesn't hyperventilate," I told Andrea.

By leaning over the man slightly, I looked at his thigh and identified the object as a six-inch in diameter iron pole, protruding from the anterior lateral aspect of his left thigh, with a small amount of blood around the wound.

"Sir," I said. "I'm going to put some pressure on your leg. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

Using the palms of my hands to palpate around his thigh, I realized that the pole's opposite end is protruding about 1 inch on the opposite posterior medial aspect of his thigh. Removing the pole could cause more damage to underlying structures, such as blood vessels or nerves. Instead of moving him right away, we need to stabilize the pole to prevent it from moving in or out of the wound.

I looked to Rick, who was behind me. "We need to stabilize his leg before we move him inside."

"What do you need?" Patricia asked me, out of breath, as she stood beside Andrea on the opposite side of the car.

"We going to save this guy?" Shane asked.

I looked to Daryl and then back at Shane. "Why wouldn't we? You brought him here."

"I didn't," Shane said. "We just have left his ass."

"Well you didn't and he's here." I let out a deep breath. " I need something to pad his leg with. Sleeping bag, jacket, anything. Two straight objects, like the canoe paddles in the hallway closet. And Gauze. T, will you help her?"

Patricia and T both nodded and rushed to the house to gather the supplies.

I rounded the car, needing to double check his neck from the fall down the steps. "Sir, I'm going to take a look at your neck, okay?" I looked to Andrea. "And remove that bag, slowly and gently."

The man started to move his arms down to rest on his stomach to allow me access to his neck when I turned my head to the side to focus on Daryl, who was standing behind me. "Did you see the fall?"

"Lo… Lola?"

My entire body froze at the nickname and the sound of his voice. I didn't have to look at his face to know who he was. Swallowing hard, I stepped backwards several feet until Daryl stopped me. With his hands firmly on my shoulders, he said my name. I felt my palms and brow begin to sweat as bile rose in the back of my throat. Visions of him shoving me into a locked closet, not letting me out until my aunt got home. Him threatening to hurt Willa or Maggie if I told anyone. The way he held me down to put his cigarette out on my lower back or inner thigh. The way he watched me in the bathtub, and cleaning me because I was "dirty." It all came flooding back with vengeance. All the years I had worked to move forward with my life, gone. Just like that.

I looked at Andrea, whose mouth was moving, but I couldn't make out the words.

Daryl stepped in front of me, his mouth inches from my face, but all I could hear was this high pitched ringing sound. It wasn't until Daryl snapped his fingers in front of me that my anxiety attack was interrupted. "Cherry," he said, this time softly when he saw the recognition in my eyes.