AN: Annnd back to the action! Season 6 episode 2. JSS
After her conversation with Malcolm, Brady had a newfound determination to contribute to the community and help them become more comfortable with the harsh realities of their world. As everyone prepared to redirect the massive herd, she decided to stay back and focus on building relationships with the people around her. She spent time with Raine, who gave her a hard time leaving the party early but ultimately proved to be a valuable friend. In addition, Brady lent a hand to Denise as she restocked the makeshift medical clinic, recognizing the importance of their community's healthcare needs. With every task she completed, Brady was beginning to feel more connected to the people and the place she called home. Even if that meant sitting out on the action.
She stepped out of Denise's front porch, savoring the refreshing breeze that brushed against her skin. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she needed to meet Carl for lunch. But before she could take a step, a scream pierced the air. Her hand immediately went to her holster, ready to defend herself if she needed to. As she approached the source of the commotion, her heart raced with fear. Suddenly, she felt someone tackle her to the ground, and she landed with a thud. She struggled to catch her breath as she felt a weight on top of her. She looked up to see a man with a greasy appearance and rotten teeth, his forehead marked with a grotesque "W" carved on his forehead.
Fear gripped her as he raised his knife, ready to plunge it into her. But Brady was faster. She held up her gun and fired, hitting him square in the chest. His body fell limp on top of her, and she struggled to push him off. As she stood up, Brady realized that the attack was still ongoing and, of course, on the day that went over half their people were gone. Fuck, can something not go wrong for once.
As Brady rushed towards her home to check on Carl and Judith, she could feel the chaos spreading all around her. The streets were filled with the sounds of screams and gunshots, and people were running in every direction. But amidst the chaos, Brady couldn't just stand by and watch innocent people get saw a woman being attacked on a front lawn, and without thinking twice, she ran toward the attacker and shot him in the head.
"Are you okay?" Brady asked, trying to comfort the woman writhing in pain on the front lawn. She put her arm around her and tried to help her up, but it was clear that the woman's leg was badly injured.
"We need to get you to Denise's," Brady said, gritting her teeth, and trying to lift her up. "Can you walk?"The woman shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Brady could feel her own adrenaline pumping, but she knew she had to remain calm. She braced most of the woman's weight as they hobbled to Denise's makeshift hospital. About halfway there, to Brady's relief, Tara came along from seemingly nowhere and helped. They managed to lift the woman and carry her toward Denise's house.
There were a few others there too including Aaron but they all left quickly to go help fight off their attackers. Brady's heart rose as she and Tara put the woman on the makeshift patient bed. She had no medical training, but she knew she had to do something to help. Denise was panicking, to say the least, and Tara was desperately trying to convince her that she was best qualified to help the bleeding woman on the bed. Brady later found out the woman's name was Franny.
Brady felt like she was on auto-pilot, her mind racing with thoughts of how she could help. She didn't know what to do but knew she couldn't let her anxiety take over. She busied herself with washing her hands.
"For fuck's sake, Denise, figure out what to do!" Brady exclaimed in frustration, tension rising. As Denise and Tara continued to argue, Brady took a deep breath and approached the woman on the bed. Denise mentioned something about her femoral artery bleeding out, and Brady knew that was a big one.
Without hesitation, she dug her fingers through the thigh muscles to pinch the artery and at least stop the blood flow. It was a risky move, but Brady knew she had to try something. She could feel the warm blood flowing through her fingers, and it made her feel nauseous. The smell of iron and sweat filled her nostrils, and she had to fight the urge to gag—honestly, for somehow this was worse than killing walkers. But regardless she felt the responsibility of needing to keep this woman alive at least until Denise could properly take over. She tightened her grip on the artery, her fingers aching from the strain. She could feel the woman's pulse slowing beneath her fingertips, and she knew she had to keep holding on.
Finally, Denise seemed to snap out of her panic. She started barking orders, and Brady could feel the tension in the room easing slightly. Tara gave her a grateful smile, and Brady felt a sense of relief wash over her. She slowly released her grip on the artery as Denise came in with a clamp, her fingers trembling from the effort. She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying to ignore the sticky feeling on her skin. As she stepped back from the makeshift bed, she realized that she was covered in Francis's blood.
But she didn't have time to dwell on the intensity of the situation. Her mind was already racing with thoughts of who else might need her help.
"Okay, that was intense," she said to Denise, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Are you good if I go to help others?" She looked Denise directly in the eye, hoping to convey her seriousness and determination. Denise gave a firm nod in response, and Brady knew she had to act quickly.
Without another word, Brady dashed out of Denise's house and into the chaos of the streets.
Breathless and bloodstained, Brady raced towards her house, heart pounding. As she approached, she heard the sound of gunfire, causing her to quicken her pace. Bursting into the yard, she saw Carl aiming his gun at one of the crazed people who was advancing on Ron. In a split second, Carl pulled the trigger, taking down the attacker.
As Brady ran over to Ron, she saw the terror etched on his face, he refused to inside with Carl.
Brady ran over to Carl, "Lock the doors, stay inside, stay safe," she said urgently to Carl and Enid.
"Brady, come inside, are you okay? You're covered in blood," Carl said, concern in his voice, standing on the front steps.
"Not my blood. Please, just watch your sister," Brady replied, hurrying Carl inside. She had to make sure Ron was okay. He was just a kid, a stupid teenager, didn't mean he should die from said stupidity.
"I'll go make sure Ron doesn't die," she said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Did she mention he was stupid?
Brady was on high alert as she scanned the area, searching for any threats lurking in the shadows. Although she couldn't find Ron she was, hopefully, he got somewhere safe. She kept busy by assisting others in need, she noticed Tara and Rosita doing the same. She took down two more enemies, somehow killing in your own backyard made it a little easier, and a little less confusing. Maybe it was the familiarity of the surroundings, or perhaps it was the fact that she didn't have time to overthink the situation.
The intruder's numbers seemed to dwindle but there were many dead bodies lying on the ground. She was on the other side of town now, keeping her eyes peeled for any threats. As she prepared to head back to Denise's, she was confronted by three of the wild people standing in the middle of the road.
"Three against one," she muttered to herself, "I can handle that." Running away had been her instinct in the past, but she refused to let these savages take over her home without a fight.
Brady's heart was racing as she raised her gun and aimed at the first attacker, who was charging toward her with a knife. She took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The first attacker fell to the ground, clutching his chest as blood spurted out. But before she could even catch her breath, the other two attackers were on her.
The other two charged at her, their knives glinting in the sunlight. Brady fired again, hitting the second attacker in the head, causing him to fall flat in his tracks. The third attacker, however, was quick and grabbed Brady from behind, choking her with one arm while he reached for his knife with the other.
"Let me free you," the attacker hissed in her ear as he tightened his grip. Brady struggled to breathe, feeling lightheaded as her vision blurred. She was clawing at his arms to try and get him off. Oh, but the struggle was real. She desperately thought of what she could do, she needed something to defend herself with. As her vision darkened more, her hand found the handle of a knife hidden in her boot. She managed to pull it out and stab the attacker in the leg, causing him to loosen his grip slightly.
She coughed grasping her own tender neck, gasping for air as she got out of his grip. He was back up in no time, she didn't want to be in his vicinity so she threw her knife as he charged her again and it landed right in his neck. He let out a gurgling sound before falling down face first.
Breathing heavily, Brady stumbled backward and collapsed onto the ground. She had done it. She had fought off three attackers and survived. But as she looked at her hands, she didn't feel any remorse. They had attacked her and her home, and she had defended it. Now only if she had that courage months ago.
Brady lay on the ground, her body feeling heavy and drained of energy. She tried to push herself up, but it felt like an impossible task. She looked up at the sky, noticing how the clouds moved gracefully across it. She took in deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.
Suddenly, Morgan's face came into view, blocking her sight of the sky. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched on his features.
Brady sat up too quickly, hitting her head against his in the process. "Ow, sorry," she mumbled, rubbing her head. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just catching my breath."
"I'm sorry you had to do that," he said with a conflicted expression extending a hand that she took to help her up.
Brady shrugged. "Honestly, I'm over it."
Morgan's eyes widened slightly. "You are?"
Brady nodded. "They were going to kill us. It was kill or be killed. And I chose to live."
Morgan looked down, lost in thought. "It's just that... I've been trying to hold onto the idea that all life is precious. But sometimes, it feels like we're forced into these situations where we have to choose between our own survival and that idea."
"I get it," Brady said, patting him on the shoulder. "But sometimes, you have to do what you have to do."
"There's still the choice not to kill though," He said more like he was trying to remind himself of that than he was Brady.