"Someone has to find me a rat," I said after I had explained my theory to Hershel. "I need to know."
"But how could that have caused his fever? He had the fever before the transfusions…" Hershel mused.
"Kenzie died of Scarlet Fever, Hershel. I had her in my arms. I was coughed all over. It's very, very possible I was a carrier and didn't even realize it. And god only knows how normal, everyday viruses are now with the walker shit right outside our door," I said quickly. "If I'm right, we can treat this!"
"He'd need dialysis at the very least and we can't do that here," Hershel argued.
"No he wouldn't. He'd need a blood transfusion, one that isn't mine, and I know where to find that. I'm almost certain the hospital's blood bank was left untouched. I didn't think to check, because the place was still occupied, to say the least," I said quickly.
"Uh…found you a rat," Glenn said, holding the little creature by its tail. I took it from him and shoved it into the plastic container Carol had found.
"What're you gonna do with it?" Carl asked me.
"Inject it with a little bit of my blood and see what happens," I shrugged as if it were the simplest thing ever.
"Is that even…right?" he asked me, looking at me with a doubtful expression.
"Humans tested on rats for years, kiddo," I shrugged. I took out a clean needle and took off my belt. I tied it around my upper arm before sticking the needle into my vein, drawing a small amount of blood into the vial. I crinkled my nose as I picked the rat up by its tail and gently stuck the needle into the scruff of its neck.
"Now we wait," I sighed. I put the rat back into the plastic case and watched as it circled around angrily.
The next few hours went on with little change in the rat's behavior. Late into the night, I got the expected result. The rat started coughing. A few minutes later, it died.
"Hershel," I hissed. He had fallen asleep in the chair next to me. Upon my call, he woke up and looked at the rat, his eyes wide.
"You were right," he gasped.
"Whatever happened when scarlet fever and the outbreak combined, is lethal," I breathed. I stood up and looked out into the main room. I felt my heart break as I thought about what it meant for my friend. "I'm leaving now," I said softly.
"Katie, its suicide to go out there this late!" he gasped.
"I'll reach the hospital by sunrise, be back before lunch," I said quickly.
"You don't even know what you're looking for, Kate," he said softly.
"I'm looking for antibiotics, O neg blood and a really, really strong vitamin. Hershel, this is scarlet fever to the max. If we can flush his blood enough, we can break this damn cycle he's going through before the fever kills him," I spat.
"Katie, this isn't typical Scarlet and you know it. This is far, far worse. As far as we know, it could be too late already," he said gently.
"I don't care," I growled. "I'm leaving. Tonight," I said as I wheeled away from him, grabbing my bag off the floor.
Angel was waiting for me in my cell. She had clearly heard the entire conversation.
"You know, he's got a point. Daryl's had a fever for almost two months. If there's brain damage…" I cut her off with an angry glare.
"If there was brain damage, how the hell was Daryl perfectly fine earlier? Tell me that, Angela!" I spat angrily.
"All I'm saying is, it's not worth risking your life for something you don't know you can fix!" she argued.
"Fuck you, Angel. I went back for you, didn't I? You were surrounded. You were wounded. Fuck, I had my daughter to think about back then, and I still went back for you! How is this any different?" I growled.
"It's not. You were stupid then and you're stupid now. Always trying to play hero. Well guess what, Katie, playing hero gets you killed. Playing hero costs you people. When are you going to realize that?" she spat.
"Fuck you," I growled as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Don't bother looking for me if I don't come back," I told her, shooting dangers in her direction. "You'd be the last person I'd ask for help."
"Good luck finding someone to go with you at this time a'night. Even Dixon ain't that stupid," she scoffed. "Still don't know why you're so dedicated to that damn redneck scum anyway."
"What did you just say?" I growled. I wheeled around, my fist connecting with her jaw. "Just remember, that scum is the reason you have a roof over your head. Or maybe you've forgotten who defended our group. Who went out to get your sister and the rest of them. Or have you forgotten that so soon?"
"You're a bitch, Katie Anderson, a hopeless, stupid bitch!" Angel shouted as I stalked out of my cell, my heart racing in my chest. As much as I wanted to just run, just flee and not look back, I had to make a pit stop before I did. I carefully moved the sheet covering the doorway to Daryl's cell out of the way, entering carefully. He was lying awake, his pale face slick with sweat. The lantern on the table near the bed was burning, casting a dim like across the small cell.
"You are stupid," he muttered as he looked at me, his once bright blue eyes now dim. "You shouldn't go out at night."
"I know," I shrugged with a sad smile. "But I ain't losing ya, okay?"
"Ain't go'n nowhere," he muttered.
"Sure as hell ain't," I smiled. I brushed his hair off his face, overly aware of how he flinched every time someone touched him. I leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth softly before turning my back to him. "You're gonna get better Dixon, I'll see to that."
Michonne was waiting for me by the cell block door. She nodded once and together, we made our way outside. Tyreese waited for us by the gate as we climbed into the Hyundai.
"You don't have to come with me," I said softly to her. The bigger pup, Hunter, was snuggled in my lap, his tail thumping against my stomach.
"Just you and a dog? Right. You need the backup," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "'Sides, can't let you take all the glory in saving Daryl, huh?"
"Suppose so," I laughed as I pulled out of the prison yard, my heart racing with anticipation. It was going to be a long drive, in the middle of the night, with nothing but our headlights to lead the way.
"Here's to trying, all or nothing," I muttered. It was a phrase my father had used numerous times before. I spared one look back at the prison, before slamming down on the gas, ignoring the swarm of walkers trying to make their way to the car. Michonne was quiet, though I could see just as much determination burning in her eyes.
That night, neither of us was sure if we'd return. Alive.