Angel took the next few hours to fill me in on what happened while I was under. Apparently infection ended up setting into the cut, along with exhaustion, starvation and just general stress, which led to the fever and the realistically vivid dream. I was stunned that it had actually had bits of the real world tucked into it.
I was still extremely weak and the minor task of sitting upright long enough to pull a clean shirt over my head proved almost impossible. With her help, I managed to get changed, and with her support, I was able to leave the cell for the first time since Daryl carried me in.
"Mackenzie's with Beth and Carol. She's taken a shining to those two," she explained as she led me into the common room of Cell Block C. Daryl watched me from his perch on the stairs as the small dog, deemed Scout by my group, stood at my other side protectively.
"What happened to Bes?" I asked tiredly. The small distance we'd crossed wore me out a lot more than I imagined. Angel carefully sat me on the floor before sighing.
"Bes didn't make it through the first night. I honestly think that dog only lived so long 'cause she knew the pup needed you," she shrugged.
"Probably," I nodded. My head ached, but it didn't hurt any worse than a head cold would.
"Think you can keep something down if you try?" she asked worriedly. I was overly aware of how my bones stuck out. Even just sitting on the concrete floor, my back pressed against the wall, was painful.
"Dunno," I shrugged. My stomach was doing flips. "Prolly not."
"You'll have to eat eventually," she said softly.
"I know," I muttered.
"I'm not trying to be overbearing or nothing…"
"Ang, I really appreciate your concern, but let me absorb everything for a few minutes, okay?" I asked. She nodded once before hurrying off to either get some air or find Hershel. I wasn't too concerned. Angel was real good about accepting my decisions. That was why we were friends to begin with.
I really didn't want to move, but the floor wasn't helping my achy body any, so with the young dog at one side, using the wall as leverage, I managed to get to my feet. My injured arm was wrapped in a thick bandage and set in a makeshift sling, so it was awkward trying to keep myself upright, but I managed. The ground swayed beneath my feet, but eventually, I found my footing well enough to make my way over to the gate of the cell block.
"You heading outside already?" Rick, the leader of the group, asked.
"Need some fresh air," I muttered. In reality, I just needed to clear my head. I felt like shit, but it wasn't going to stop me from getting my bearings back.
"I'll go with 'er," Daryl offered. I was about to object, but something about the look Rick gave me made me stop.
"Please?" I asked. Rick sighed and unlocked the door, letting my hobble past.
It took me ten times longer to make my way outside than it would have normally. Several times I had to stop and lean against the wall, just to keep from falling over. I knew the headache was from starvation and the weakness from malnutrition. It wouldn't be long before my body shut down completely.
When we reached the prison yard, I didn't really have anything to brace myself against anymore, so after walking a few tiny steps, I gave up and sat down, letting the cool grass ease some of the ache from my muscles.
"You look like death," a familiar voice joked. I looked up to see Angel coming towards me. "Rick had to send a babysitter, huh?"
"He offered," I shrugged. I pulled my knees to my chest, letting my head rest on top of them.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked, sitting beside me. The look of concern on her face troubled me.
"Just not feelin' top notch," I shrugged. "It'll pass."
"You went through hell, Kate," she reminded me.
"So? So has everyone else," I sighed. "How much did I miss while I was out?"
"Not much," she shrugged. "Rick spent the first night asking us a million questions, while Hershel tended to you. Tell you one thing, you're lucky Daryl found you – Hershel said another hour and you'd have bled to death."
"Yeah," I nodded. I looked at Daryl who was standing a bit away. "Thanks for that, Daryl," I called softly.
He didn't say anything, just grunted in response. I smiled despite myself. Daryl really was the quiet brother. Back in prison, Merle never shut up.
"Wanna try and eat something?" Angel practically begged. I sighed and watched as she pulled a little bundle out of her bag. It looked like roasted rabbit. "Daryl caught it, I promise, it's safe," she assured me. She knew I was hesitant about eating anything that could have been infected.
"Ehh," I grimaced.
"Will you eat it if I tell you what it is?" she asked, her eyes pleading.
"What is it?"
"Squirrel."
"What?" I asked, bile slowly creeping up my throat. I fought back a gag before turning away from the meat.
"It tastes like chicken," she assured me. Angel had been a vegetarian before the world went to shit. "It's real good."
"I'll pass," I muttered. Scout looked at the piece of meat eagerly. "Let the dog have it."
"No way," she laughed, picking at the meat. She took a bite and smiled as if it were a grade A steak. "It's too good for dog food."
My stomach churned at the sight. I pressed my eyes shut, fighting the nausea.
"You have to eat," a different voice scolded. I forced my eyes open to see Hershel coming towards us. "Even just a little. You need to build up your strength."
I sighed. I didn't have the strength to argue anymore. Angel looked victorious as she handed me a piece of the meat. I toyed with it a little before taking a hesitant bite. She was right, it did taste like chicken. I chewed it slowly, my stomach protesting as I choked it down. I groaned as my stomach did flips. I pressed my head into my knees, fighting to keep the tiny piece of meat down.
"Easy," Angel cooed. I felt her press a bottle of water into my hand. "Small sips."
I didn't even attempt to drink. I leaned heavily against her, my entire body seeming to give up.
I vaguely heard Hershel tell her that it was going to take my body some time to adjust. Especially after living on damn near nothing for the better part of two years.