TWD Chapter 2

"How far is it?! How far is it?!" Rachel screamed at the stocky large man as he lumbered exhaustedly on fat legs.

"It's just over that hill! Ask for Hershel! He'll help your son!" he wheezed,

Just over the hill!

Just over the hill!

She had to keep her mind set on the stretch of land before her, or else she was forced to stare into the pale unconscious face, nestled close to her collarbone. She'd have to notice, the blood standing-out against the quickly draining color of his skin, or feel the warmth of his body seep between them. No, it was best to keep her mind on one task, and that was getting help.

In her hectic sprint, his weight was thrown in many different directions, almost throwing herself off balance-here and there. But she held steady and continued onwards, now wasn't the time to be clumsy, every second mattered. Nothing could stop her. So the burning in her lungs, or the tingling numbness in her leg muscles, were all pushed to the furthest corner of her mind. The blood that soaked the front of her uniform, though, was impossible to not notice. It's warm, wet feeling, made her sick to her stomach. Blood stuck both their shirts to their abdomens, there was just so much of it. Knowing it all belonged to Carl, her baby boy, her son!... Rachel could only wish the trek uphill was shorter, a hill that seemed to have an unending incline. And with every step she took, the distance seemed to expand more, making her push her legs to go faster, stretch farther, strain the muscles till they were on the verge of ripping.

Not far behind, Shane half-carried half-dragged the large man that caused the whole incident. This man was well-fed, dressed head to toe in cameo. He was a hunter, a good one at-that… but his aim was too good. His bullet hit the intended target. The buck falling sideways in a heap of dead meat, but it didn't stop at the deer, instead, ripped right through, and taking the unaware boy down with it.

Rachel blinked back tears, the large farm home now insight. "HERSHEL!"

People within the home went up in a frenzied panic. The image of the sheriff woman running towards their house, clutching a bundle of red flopping limbs, jolted them into action. His daughter went out to open the fence for her to enter, Hershel himself, running out to meet the unknown woman in red and asking the obvious question that was on all of their minds. "Was he bit?!"

"-Shot! By your man," his family all gasped in horror. "Otis?!" he yelled, not believing it. "-he said find Hershel, is that you?! Help, please! Help, my boy!" The grizzled old man gently took him from his hysterical mother's tired arms and darted back inside.

Rachel shadowed his every footstep, staring at nothing but Carl's ghostly white face the whole time. He placed her son on a queen-sized bed in one of their guest rooms. Their crisp white bed sheets were dyed a deep crimson in a matter of seconds, and all Rachel wanted to do was hold her baby boy's body close to her chest. Rock him back and forth, like when he was first born and had trouble sleeping, only his mother's soft hushes and slow caring movements comforting him.

"-Pillow case!" blinking, she stared confusedly at Hershel. "What?" Had he said something?

"Get the pillow case, fold it, make a pad, and apply pressure to the wound!" he repeated, prepping his equipment. Nothing mattered at the moment than her son's life, but here she was, reminiscing those late nights. Now wasn't the time to be distracted! She did as told and looked up at the concentrating face of the man. He pressed his stethoscopes diaphragm to her son's unmoving chest, eyebrows furrowing.

"Is he- is he alive?" she dreaded to hear the answer.

"I have a heartbeat, it's faint. What's your name?" She inhaled a breath of fresh air, just-now realizing how her chest was tightened painfully from lack of oxygen, and arms both falling limply at her-sides, they felt like noodles to her now. "I got it" a blond woman patted her shoulder, relieving her of her duty. It took some time for Rachel to regain the breath she needed, but answered Hershel's question quickly. "R-Rachel, Rachel Grimes." She choked back a soft sob. Rachel wanted to cry so bad, just fall to her knees and wail in sheer relief.

"Rachel, we're gonna do everything we can to help your son. But we need you to give us some space. Now." A bit reluctantly, she walked out the room, sending one last worried look at Carl's still-form.

A brunette female, much younger than the blond woman assisting Hershel, rushed passed her into the room. Carrying a liquid see-through bag attached to a tube and needle. The ex-cop had to turn her head from the sight, looking out the closest window to see Shane and 'Otis' stumbling towards the farm house.

Feet that felt like lead, carried her out onto the porch to meet the two. The man, Otis, was first to speak. "Is he alive? Is he still alive?" Her throat felt dry, her body drained of strength. Any rage she should've felt for the man was smothered by exhaustion. Rachel dragged her wrist across her forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat that trickled down face. Some of it even trailed into the side of her eyes, making seeing things difficult.

"…He's okay…"

Both men went completely silent as the stunned mother smeared a line of blood across her brow. Eyes wide, complexion pale and clammy, the woman looked about ready to throw up.

Shane dug into his bag, pulled out a rag, and gently took her face between his hands. His partner didn't protest, he bet she didn't even realize what he was doing till she looked down in shock at her hands. He wiped away all traces of red from her forehead and said in a soft calming tone. "Okay, it's okay… take me to him, let's go see Carl."

That wasn't an expression he'd ever wanted to see on her face. Sad, desperate, and confused, these were the emotions that were drawn out clearly on the female. Only a few times, he had ever seen his friend cry, most of them in anger or frustration, but never had he seen Rachel cry in sadness. Her expression was broken, frail, and exposed for all to see. Shane wanted to take that feeling from her, hug and comfort her. Allow her to pour all her sadness onto him, till there was no more.

Rachel dipped her head in a resolute nod and led him into the house. She banged into a few corners on the way in, but she was too numb to even feel pain at the moment.

The room was silent, nothing but the shuffling of fast feet coming in and out of the doorway. Hershel looked up and caught sight of Shane staring worriedly at Carl. "Are you his father?" Shane said a quick "no"

"His father's out in the woods still…"

"Well do either of you know his blood type?"

Rachel rose her hand. "A positive, same as mine."

"That's fortunate, don't wonder far I'm gonna need you. What happened?" all eyes fell on Otis, who opened and closed his mouth speechlessly. "I was, tracking a deer… the bullet went clean through it…. Clean through…" he murmured, he eyes never leaving the deathly boys pale face.

"Well, the deer certainly saved his life. It slowed the bullet down. But it did not go through clean. It broke off into pieces. If I could get the bullet fragments out-I'm counting six…" Hershel lifted the bloodied make-shift pad to check once again, pushing back down when the tiny indents in his skin started forming little puddles of blood.

"Carl's father… his daddy doesn't know…" the Grimes woman shook on her spot, eyes streaking raw unshed tears. Shane dropped his bag and pulled her into his chest, whispering tiny words of assurances. "Stop… it's okay… it's okay…"

Sometime had passed, and the two were moved out of the room. Hershel telling them 'he needed space for what comes next' he didn't want the boy's mother in the room for what he was about to do, if-possible.

Both man and woman seated themselves outside the room where they kept Carl, afternoon heat filtered in, none of the sun's rays touching either though.

"Why'd I let him come with us? I should've sent him with Leon…"

The entire time she'd been staring at nothing but her hands, any red tint was long gone after she cleaned herself in their bathroom. But Rachel could still see it-the staining against her skin. Shane sighed, knowing exactly what she was implying. "Now don't you start that! You need to get that monkey off your back." She ignored him and continued. "A little girl goes missing, you look for her! Plain and simple. I should've said 'Carl, head back'…. It should be me in there."

"That was you in there. You've been there and pulled through, Carl's gonna do the same." How could he be so sure? She wondered. When he had seen how Carl was taken down along with the deer. Memories, of the bullet entering one side of the animal and exiting out the other, its force was enough to rocket her son backwards off his feet, simultaneously hitting the ground just as the deer had. She'd probably never be able to erase these horrifying images from her mind. Guilt she felt would most-likely make her relive these memories, over and over in her head. No parent should ever have to see their child die in front of their eyes.

"Is this why I woke up? To find my family and watch my baby-boy just-disappear! before my eyes? What kind of sick joke is that!" she whispered harshly Shane stayed silent as she finished, instinctively reaching over and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. Anything further would just be taking advantage of the situation, he felt.

Suddenly, a loud shuttering cry shook the room. Rachel was standing once the blond woman busted through the door, eyes immediately falling on her. "We need you in here now!" both ex-cops rushed into the room.

They didn't expect to see Carl wide awake, fighting against the old man's hold on his upper body as he was digging out a bullet fragment. "He needs blood! Help me hold him down!" Shane was at his side in a moments notice, trying to be gentle as he applied pressure to Carl's shoulders. Dark eyes shot up and looked straight at his mother. He let out a wailing cry of pain.

The sight was mortifying, Hershel leaning over his small body, using that long silver object in his hand to dig further into the boys abdomen.

She tried to shake this image and quickly made her way over to the other side of the bed, where the blond woman was prepping a needle and pump. Another cry from her son jolted her out of her shock. "DO IT NOW!" Shane noticed her hesitation, using his intense gaze to keep her in place.

Rachel didn't feel the needle pierce her skin, she only watched helplessly as Carl struggled a while longer, than dropped back onto the bed, all his movement ceasing at once. Her unrestrained hand covered her mouth, trying to stop muffling cries she was unaware of-till now.

"What happened?" Shane panicked,

"He just passed out…" Hershel said calmly, dropping the tiny fragment into the bedside bowl. "That's one… five more to go."

Things finally settled down, and they were seated around the boy. Hershel began to put his supplies away. "His pressures stable."

"Leon needs to be here. I need to go find him, bring him back." The Grimes woman began, but the old man shook his head, he could already tell she was going to be a trouble. "You can't."

"He's his father!" she spat

"Your son might need more blood." He looked over at the bigger man, searching for some help from him. "She can't go more than fifty feet from this bed." He nodded, confirming to him that he'd help.

Rachel stood up from the chair on shaky legs, not having seen the exchange between the two. She donated a little more than she should've, she could feel it in her head. Her best friend was at her side in an instant, offering her an arm to lean against, but she refused with a soft smile. "It's okay. I got it…" She walked out the room unsteadily. Smelling and seeing blood soaked sheets was a little hard on her weakened stomach at the moment, so before she further ruined their room she had to find a bucket.

Shane closed the door behind them, leaving Hershel and the blond woman to watch over Carl. The brunette girl, Rachel recalled Hershel calling her 'Maggie', straightened up, sitting beside her Otis pulled his head from his hands. "He's stable for now." They visibly relaxed at that.

"Leon has to be here Shane, he has to know-"

"-Okay, I get that. I'm gonna handle it. But you gotta handle your end." Her tired eyes looked back at him "My end?"

"Your end is being here, for your son, even if he didn't need your blood to survive. There's no way I'd ever let you walk out that door… you know that right? Like if something was to happen to him while you weren't here. Like…. Like if he 'slipped away' while you were gone. You would never forgive yourself for it. And neither would Leon." the meaning of what he was saying was starting to sink in for the woman.

At first she was quiet, than she lifted her head, smiling a helpless smile. "Your right."

"When am I ever wrong?" he joked, making the smile reach her eyes.

"Don't push your luck tough guy…"

Heavy tension in the room lifted just a mite, both Maggie and Otis smiled at the two's banter. But the room relit with that same tension as soon as Hershel opened the door and looked at Rachel. A stone in her stomach threatened to drop if he had bad news. "He's outta danger for the moment, but I need to remove those remaining fragments."

"How? You saw how he was."

"I know, and that was the shallowest one. I need to go deeper to get the others." She nodded her head, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. "There's more." Maybe she was getting sick, she could feel anxiety crawling up her throat. "Tell me." she pushed it back down.

"He's bellies descended, his blood pressure's dropped, which means there's internal bleeding. A fragment must've nicked one of the blood vessels. I have to open him up, find the bleeder and stitch it. And he can't move while I'm in there, and I mean at all! If he reacts the same as before, I'll severe an artery and he'll be dead in minutes. To even try this I'll have to put him under. But if I do, he won't be able to breathe on his own… same bad results."

Rachel found the closest trash bin and emptied the contents of her stomach into it. She figured she would sooner or later, she just didn't expect for the man to be so graphic in his detailing. But that was the odd thing. For all she was, Rachel had never been easily grossed-out by blood or other things like that. She was a sheriff's deputy for crying out loud!

Maggie was behind her, patting her back comfortingly. She straightened up, wiped what little remained from her mouth and look the old man square in the eyes. They both knew what little time they had was more valuable than worrying about her health. "What would we need?"

"You need a respirator. Tube that goes with it, extra surgical supplies, drapes, sutra's-"

"If you got all that? You could save him?"

"I could try." He clarified

"Nearest hospital went up in flames a month ago… the high school! It was where everyone gathered." Otis stood between the two, willing to offer any helpful input he had. "The place was overrun last time I saw it, you couldn't get near it. Maybe it's better now?"

"Get me a map than." Shane spoke from the window, he stared intently at Rachel. The woman's eyes softened, she couldn't express her gratitude.

"You don't need one, I'll take you there. It ain't but five miles." Otis offered. Hershel assistant, the older blond woman protested. "Otis no!"

"Patricia, honey… I'm responsible, I ain't gonna sit here and watch this fella take this on alone." Her face looked unsure, he was quick to try and dispel it. "I'll be alright."

"I should thank you." Rachel rasped out.

He looked pained by her praise. "Wait till that boy of yours is up and running. Then we'll talk. I'll gather some things."

The farmer's daughter, Maggie, walked to stand in front of the older brunette. "You're husband… where is he?"

"How much farther?"

"Not much, maybe a hundred yards… as a crow flies." Daryl said gruffly, his eyes staring at nothing but what was in front of him. Andrea rolled her light blue eyes at his vague answer. "Well, we're not crows so…" he didn't say anything, just keep true on his self-set path. Why the Dixon-man was still with them was a mystery.

Their little search party was tired by the time the sun was just trying to set. Glen, Carol, Leon, Andrea, and their guide Daryl, were just on their way back to the highway, ready to call it in. the blond woman lagged behind the group, grumbling an incoherent ".. crow flies my ass.." Thankfully, Daryl hadn't heard her insult, he wasn't known in their group as the most even tempered. No, that position was already filled by Rachel.

Her mind had taken off into a assortment of different topics, mostly things that irritated her, that Andrea didn't hear-or see the hideously deformed walker lumbering up beside her.

"Ahhh!"

Leon's head snapped up at the sound. "Andrea?!" her screams tore through the woods, she wasn't that far behind, although she was still pretty far from the rest of them.

Daryl raced passed him, notching an arrow back on his crossbow. He was just about to shoot the walker down before it could sink it's teeth into the woman, but a speeding force had beat him to the punch.

A brunette cowgirl riding a large horse, carrying a bloodied bat stared down at Andrea, than turned to Daryl. "Leon?! Leon Grimes?!" said man limped up beside the stunned Dixon. "Yes?"

"Rachel sent me, there's been an accident! Carl's been shot! He's still alive, but Rachel needs you! Come on!" he didn't need anymore explanation than that. Throwing his bag on the ground, he used his only leg to push up and over to sit on the large beast. Leon looked at the rest of the group, finally noticing how Daryl was yelling. "Whoa! You can't go with her! We don't know her!" everything he said went on deaf ears. The girl on the horse turned to the none-shouting male. "Rachel said you had other on the highway?" Glenn nodded, his mind barely registering what was happening. "Backtrack to Fairabend Road, two miles down you'll see our road. Mailbox say's Greene!"

They stared off after the two as they rose off.

The Grimes woman rested her chin upon her curled fist, gazing out at the peaceful farmland with tired droopy eyes. Pink and orange began to coat the scenery in an ephemeral glow, drowning out the bright green of the trees. It was a beautiful place, so… innocent.

Hershel walked out onto the porch, taking himself a seat next to her. She offered a tired smile "Your farms beautiful."

"Been in my family for 160 years." He said,

"I was just thinking about how much it looks so… serene. Untouched."

"Well we didn't come out unscathed when this epidemic started. Farm hands, friends… my wife and son were taken as well." She looked apologetically at him. "I'm sorry…"

Awkward silence filled the air, both just looking out at the stretch of land before them. Rachel shot up onto her feet when Maggie rode into sight, behind her a very distraught looking Leon rode on the horse as well. His face was twisted in pure agony, it was probably his leg bothering him with the ride, but he pushed away the pain and concentrated on the house.

Rachel had run out to meet them halfway, her dainty hands coming up to cover her mouth to stifled sobs. All the pain she was feeling rushed back into her at the sight of Leon's face. The man jumped from the horse, carelessly tossing his crutch to the side and pulling his crying wife into his arms. They hugged for a while, swaying on the spot from side to side, which wasn't that hard for the one-legged man. And both just relished in the others comforting warmth.

Rachel finally started to calm and helped her husband limp to the porch stairs. He wanted to see his son.

Leon's first reaction when he seen his boy, pale and unconscious on that large bed, was to ask for the bastard who had shot him. Hopefully he was still around, he was going to get a beat down from a very angry father. Hershel was quick to try and quell his anger, saying that Otis had made a mistake and was trying to help by going with Shane to get the supplies they needed. Leon was too mad to hear any of it but stopped his rampaging when his wife intervened. Giving him the most pleading look he'd ever gotten from her.

"Please hun, let's just calm down. Out boy needs us right now." and just like that, he was quiet. But the promise of a fight still burned in his eyes. This 'Otis' had better watch himself. Unlike his forgiving wife, he was not one to let things slid so easily.

Rachel swayed on her feet, rejecting her husbands offer to lean against him and instead gulped down the tall glass of orange juice Hershel had given her. It was gone in less than a second. She never noticed how dehydrated she was until now. "You okay Rachel?" Leon asked. She nodded.

They stood around Hershel's large dining table, it had a polished clean surface, so much that they could see their reflections- but that didn't matter. She was just looking for things to distract her mind. Right now, she couldn't think like that.

Her right arm felt swollen and sore. After all the blood transfusions they had to do she was still surprised she was still able to move about. But when she passed by a hallway mirror she'd seen how pale and frail she looked. It was a totally different person that stared at her. Eye's sunken in, her face appearing long and gaunt. She wanted to hide her face from everyone. It just didn't feel right to her at how fragile and weak she looked.

Her and her husband walked back into the room with Carl, there they waited... and waited... and waited.

Hours ticked away, sunset had long since passed and Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong with Shane Otis. She wanted to pace, to relief a bit of the jittery panick that coursed through her at the moment. But she didn't have the strength, her blood loss had taken it's toll and now she could feel her mind feeling light and dizzy. "…Their not back yet…" Her husband grunted softly while holding both her hands in his. she was cold, he noted "They will be back."

She shook her head. "They should've been back hours ago."

Hershel cut it. "His pressure's dropping again, we're gonna need more blood." Rachel was at his side in an instant, rolling up her uniform sleeve. "Take what you need, than I'm going out to get them." Leon shot up "Are you crazy? You can barely stand on your own!" he fumbled with his crutch under his arm, than strode to where they were.

"Listen to your husband." Hershel said "You're in no condition to be going anywhere. You've given too much blood, you won't even make it across the yard."

She continued, ignoring the man with medical experience. "If something happened. I-I have to go-"

"No! Your place is here! If Shane said he'd be back, he'll be back. In Atlanta I never asked him to save me and Carl. But he did. Because he said he had an obligation to you."

"I can't just sit here and-"

"That exactly what you do!" he exploded. "If you gotta pray, or cry, or tell god he's cruel you go right ahead! but you're not leaving, Rachel…. Carl needs you, here. And I can't handle all this on my own… not again." She fell back into her chair, her hands cradling her face. Rachel hated this feeling, but it seemed to be the only thing she could do all day.

Feel hopeless.