A/N: Hey Bethylers! I didn't get 25 reviews on the last chapter but I decided to post anyways because I was so touched by one guest who commented so positively on every chapter. To the mystery commenter: thank you, your kindness made my week!
Additional shout outs go to: Shy40, Reignashii, aysha27, .75, SarahCullen4, Avaleigh1, .94, DarylDixon'sLover and mrskaz453
Companion song: "River of Darkness" by KalliDisclaimer: I do not own or have any rights to the characters/plot of TWD series. I am just a fan exploring the marvelous, macabre world Robert Kirkman created.
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Chapter 22: Donor
The van was empty.
There weren't even any bags; which either meant Glenn, Rosita and Tara had gotten away safely… or someone else had come and collected the packs. That was when she noticed the blood staining the passenger seat. There was enough that Beth was concerned. But there wasn't a deadly amount.
"Empty," she muttered to Daryl as she stood up. "But someone's hurt, not sure how far they could get."
She kept her voice low, almost whispering directly to Daryl. He turned his head slightly and cast a quick, furtive look into the van.
"Shit," he expelled. "Gotta find 'em and get outta here."
Spencer was just now finding his footing to get out of their car.
"Where are they?" he asked so loudly that it made her cringe.
"They're gone," Daryl replied angrily.
"What?! They left after—" Spencer was almost shouting and Beth rushed towards him and interrupted him with a hand clamped over his mouth.
"Yes, they took off after the accident... either by force or by necessity. And if you don't shut up, we might be next," she seethed in his ear.
The normal care-free face of Spencer darkened with shock and fear.
Good, maybe if he's scared he won't be so damn loud, she thought even though she did feel a small tinge of regret at being so mean to him.
Beth looked back at Daryl who was searching the ground near Glenn's van. He knelt down to get a closer look at something and then stared out into the dark forest. As if he felt her eyes on him he turned and met her gaze. Then the archer nodded his head and Beth went to his side. She noticed what he saw immediately. There were tracks leading away from the van and into the overgrowth that surrounded the road,
The problem was that there more than 3 sets of prints.
There were about 15 sets and it was obvious from their unruly pattern that they were walkers.
This was actually a relief. Walkers were much easier to deal with than people. Walkers were predictable, easily distracted and instinctual. Humans… they were the real worry. They were calculated, erratic and had the potential to be altogether more soulless than the walkers.
"We gotta find 'em quick. She's losing blood and more will be attracted by the smell," he reached around into his pack and pulled out a flashlight. Then his eyes flicked towards Spencer where he stood in the road. She could predict Daryl's thoughts. He was wondering what they were going to do with Spencer.
"Can't leave him alone," Beth muttered answering Daryl's unasked question.
Daryl nodded, "Yeah, I know. Gonna slow us down though."
"Come on Spencer," she raised her voice just loud enough for him to hear.
Beth, with Lucky one step ahead, led the way. Using Daryl's flashlight to see the tracks through the forest, and partially relying on Lucky's nose, Beth piloted their little group onward. Daryl was bringing up the rear, watching her back yet again. There was no moon that night, the sky covered by ominous clouds so even the stars couldn't provide any light. They were running blind except the beam of Beth's flashlight. Occasionally it illuminated a dead walker or a stray puddle of blood.
Lucky pulled up short after several minutes of running. He was once again detecting something, smell or sound, that was out of her limited human range. She flipped the flashlight to shine through her shirt, which dimmed the light considerably. But it was still enough to see the hair on the back of Lucky's neck go up. He didn't growl, which meant they were close. Lucky never growled if walkers were close—the dog had long ago figured out that making noise was a last resort.
The trio kept following the trail but there was a new rigidity within the group. Each footstep was intentional and as silent as possible, Spencer's still as loud as thunder claps in the silence that surrounded them. After another few minutes Beth could hear the faint snarling of walkers. They got close enough to see what was going on.
Standing in a clearing was a small wooden building. Not quite a house, maybe it was an old cabin. In any case, they circled around and Beth noted a few pertinent pieces of information. First, all the walkers were gathered on only one side of the building. Second, there was only one door. And it happened to be on the same side where the walkers were.
Spencer was holding the flashlight now, even though it was off, so Beth and Daryl could both have two free hands on their bows. They had come to a stop behind the walkers again, this way they could see if any of the monsters noticed the human search party.
Daryl leaned in towards her, pressing his lips near her ear and whispering so as to not be overheard by walkers, "Go around back. You'll push in through that small window in the back and I'll keep a look out. Spencer can set a fire back here to lead some of them away while we get the others out."
His breath on her neck was distracting for a moment but she turned her head to whisper in his ear now in response, "Are you sure it's okay to leave him alone? Should I send Lucky with him?"
She could feel Daryl nod his head next to her. After one big breath, one that wasn't fresh air but instead was Daryl's scent of leather and outdoors, she stepped back and moved over to Spencer. Beth relayed the plan to Spencer; he had to bend down quite a bit to allow her lips near his ear. Then she told Lucky. And she spent one short moment marveling at her dog's ability to understand her. Daryl and Beth crept around the side of the cabin while Spencer walked the other way, Lucky looked at Beth one last time before trotting after Spencer.
The two archers moved in sync, footsteps silent while they both looked in opposing directions. They waited until orange flames burst into life, close enough that they could hear the crackling of the wood. Growls were changing direction and had grown louder. The walkers had taken the bait. Daryl did a lunge and motioned for Beth to step on his leg in order to hoist herself into the small window. She clamored onto the floor and hit the ground with a small crash, landing on her shoulder in the process. But she stifled her squeak of pain and stood up quickly.
"Beth?!" came a shocked whisper from the darkness.
A light clicked on and Glenn's face came into view. He was covered in blood; his hands, his clothes and even his face had dark streaks on it.
"Are you all right?" she asked as her eyes flicked around the remaining space of the cabin. The banging sounds of walkers were still audible outside the front door. She could see that photos and a clock had fallen off the wall from the force of the pounding hands.
"Yeah, I'm fine. This is all Rosita's…" he said dejectedly as he turned to lead Beth to the bed where Rosita sat. The sheets around her were stained in a pool of blood. Instinctively, Beth knew that this was bad. When she calculated the amount of blood they'd seen in the car, along the trail of the forest and what surrounded Rosita now… she knew that the woman was in huge trouble.
However, there wasn't a whole lot they could do now.
"Everyone—get your stuff ready. Tara, you're going to have to go back out the window. Help Daryl clear whatever walkers are left at the door, there's no way we can get her up through that tiny window like this," as Beth gave instructions she kneeled on the floor next to Rosita. There was a shard of glass sitting on the bed next to her and as Beth looked at the six-inch gash in Rosita's side, she could guess what happened.
They pulled it out… those idiots. She thought while internally cursing at them.
Glass from the windshield must have embedded itself into Rosita in the crash. But instead of leaving it in her until they could get somewhere safe, they pulled it out. This would have only made matters worse and it helped explain why there was such a large amount of blood. Beth whipped her backpack off of her shoulder and dug around quickly. Her hands touched on the duct tape and she pulled it out and immediately pulled off a strip. Using a clean pillowcase as gauze, Beth quickly taped Rosita's abdomen. It would help keep the pressure on the wound and would free up her hands.
When she finally looked up at Rosita's face it was paler than any human face Beth had seen before. Rosita normally had a healthy tan that made her glow… but now she looked like a corpse. However, she was still conscious. This was convenient since it meant she might be able to walk but the pain must be unimaginable.
Tara was back over her shoulder in a minute and began helping Rosita up from the bed.
"No, you go. Help Daryl!" Beth begged and she motioned for Glenn to come over. Tara hesitated, looking like she wanted to argue, but something in Beth's commanding tone must have persuaded her so she pushed a chair under the window and after a brief look outside she heaved herself out of it.
There were a few drawn out moments while Beth and Glenn half-carried and half-dragged Rosita to the front door. She could hear the sounds of growling becoming quieter, signaling that there were less of them. Daryl and Tara were taking them out one by one. She pushed Rosita's weight onto Glenn and stepped away from the pair to look outside. Opening the door a fraction of an inch, just enough to sneak a peek, she saw that there were no more walkers on the porch. There were still sounds of fighting nearby so Beth was confident that Daryl and Tara were still occupied. However, if they wanted to get back to the car, they would have to go now before Rosita passed out. She nodded at Glenn and flung the door open with her knife poised in a position to stab any monsters that were in their way. In only one second, she saw Tara and Daryl fighting in the clearing. Spencer and Lucky weren't in sight but there were three flames at various spots in the trees, so it was clear that they'd done their job.
Since the coast was clear, Beth raced back to Rosita's aid. Glenn and her pulled Rosita through the trees along a parallel route back to the car. Glenn either was letting Beth lead or didn't realize that they weren't following their own tracks backwards. There were walkers all over the woods and their trail was covered in fresh blood. In some ways, the moving corpses had grown more sluggish as the years went on… but in other's they had become superhuman. Their sense of smell was one thing that Beth had seen was improving in the creatures over time. Maybe the lack of food made them more attuned to a nearby food source. She didn't want the puddles of blood along their first path to attract the monsters.
The archer and the officer-in-training caught up to the group in no time. It wasn't hard since Rosita kept stumbling on the underbrush and her own feet, occasionally pulling Glenn or Beth into the falls.
Daryl took one look at the predicament they were in and hung his crossbow over his chest. He squatted in front of Rosita and she clung to his back.
Beth stopped in her tracks, her shoulder suddenly lighter without bearing Rosita's weight.
Piggyback, she thought.
The word came to her head even though she didn't know where it came from. In the two years of her life that she could remember, she'd never seen one nor read about one. But somehow, Beth knew exactly what it was.
It's a serious piggyback.The phrase swirled inside her brain in a familiar husky voice. It was as if someone had whispered it in her ear.
Where did that come from? What the hell was that?
In that moment, she thought she should be afraid. Beth didn't understand what was going on. And there was a voice in her head that wasn't her own. That couldn't be normal. There was a distinctly happy and light feeling that had swelled in her chest with that voice though. Her heart was in complete contradiction to her mind that was reeling with confusion and doubt.
The rest of the group had started moving forward and Beth was still frozen.
But Glenn looked back at her and whispered "Beth, come on!"
She snapped and began trotting after the rest of the group, lifting her bow off of her back again now that she wasn't carrying Rosita. Daryl hitched his head at her and she knew that he was asking her to take the lead. They were running now. There were growls on their heels in the darkness, walkers just outside of the reach of Tara's flashlight. But they were close to the car. As they approached the road, Beth was gripped worried about Spencer and Lucky. She expected to hear the engine rumbling already, they were supposed to be waiting in the car ready to go.
When they came out of the trees her heart felt lighter. Lucky was sitting with Spencer in the car. Beth knew that Spencer must've closed themselves in to prevent Lucky from coming after her, she could see him practically itching to get out of the car and race to her side.
Beth flung the door open, Spencer started the engine, and Daryl gingerly set Rosita in the seat. Everyone else piled in after her and Spencer peeled out.
The drive felt excruciatingly long while Rosita lost more and more blood. The tension was palpable but Spencer was driving as fast as the road allowed with obstacles and overgrown plants covering it. Each time he looked over his shoulder at her pallid skin and the dark stain that had saturated the pillowcase tied to her stomach, the engine revved even more. The car shook as he pushed it as hard as it could stand, they were only a few miles away from Alexandria now and every second could make a difference in Rosita's life.
/
He wondered if the screaming was a good sign. Growing up there was a lot of shouting in the house. Angry bellows from his dad and terrified or pained shrieks from his mother. But the noises, heard from inside his closet where his mom hid him during the worst of the drunken nights, always signified that they were alive. When it went quiet was when the small boy would creep out of his darkened room. He feared the silence of his mother meant she had finally succumbed to his father's violence. He'd secretly hoped that the silence meant his father had finally died, drunk himself to death or stumbled over the shit strewn on the floor and taken a terrible fall.
The screams meant living, and the silence meant death.
So he tried to remain hopeful about the wailing he could hear coming from Rosita in the hospital room.
He was slouching in a chair in the waiting room, his back aching from how tightly his muscles were holding. After dropping Rosita and the others at the clinic, Daryl had driven across Alexandria to tell their family of her condition. It spoke to the urgency that Daryl used the gas to get across the city instead of running. Now, all of the family sat stoically in the mismatched chairs in the living room of the hospital house.
His eyes were drawn to Abraham who was fuming mad, head full of steam as he paced around the room. Eugene was watching the closed door of the operating room with red eyes. Tara openly sobbed into her hands and Glenn consolingly patted her back while Maggie stroked his other arm. Michonne and Carl sat together and there were some whispered passed back and forth between the two. Rick had come and gone into the operating room, after a minute he walked back out and mumbled something about needing to check the walls. Judith was at home asleep while Sasha watched over her. Carol was seated to Daryl and her hand fluttered like she kept considering reaching over to touch him. Spencer sat farthest away, looking miserable and out of place. He knew he wasn't really part of their close-knit family so Daryl could imagine that he would feel like an outsider intruding on their group's grief. But he also knew that Spencer was a good guy and so he wouldn't leave someone just because he felt uncomfortable.
Beth was staring absently at Daryl. He could feel her eyes on him and he tried to avoid staring at her, busying himself with studying the others instead and only glancing at her in his periphery vision. She was looking at him, but she wasn't really seeing him. He could tell that she was distracted, like she was on another planet. She had one leg pulled up in the chair with her chin resting on her knee. Beth was covered in blood, her shirt was ripped in two places and her hair was sticking up in all directions. Lucky was curled up on the floor, lying on Beth's other foot half asleep. It was clear that he wasn't going to take the chance that she would get up and walk away without him noticing. Although, Daryl guessed that this would be impossible. Daryl had known Lucky for more than a week and he already knew that the dog never fully slept, and his big ears were constantly perked up searching for dangers. He somehow looked both threatening and cuddly. Morgan sat stoically next to her, at one point he leaned over as if to say something to her. But she noticed the movement and stared over at him before Morgan could speak. An unspoken conversation passed between the two of them. It reminded him of how he could communicate with Rick using only one look. Beth just shook her head ever so slightly and Morgan visibly sagged in his chair.
Before Daryl could think about what had been said between the old man and the blonde girl, Rosita let out an earsplitting screech.
Abraham lost it, throwing an empty chair across the room while shouting, "Why the fuck hasn't doc given her any pain meds?"
Michonne stood as well and walked over to him slowly, like she was approaching a rabid animal. "I'm sure she has. It will take a while to kick in."
"It should've been helping already!" He countered.
Rosita had only been in the room for about 10 minutes, but Daryl guessed that it felt like 10 hours to Abe.
"The doc's good. We've gotta trust her," Maggie said soothingly from where she sat.
"That morphine is expired, it will have lost some effectiveness and potency. The shelf life can be up to 15 years though," Abe looked flabbergasted, this was something that he would have expected Eugene to say but instead it came out of Beth's mouth. "It will work, but it will just take a little longer to kick in."
The shock seemed to abate his anger and he sat back down.
After a few more silent minutes, Beth's prediction came true. Rosita's screams subsided and the Dr. Ortiz came out of the room a few moments later. The doctor looked harried and she was covered in Rosita's blood just like Daryl, Glenn, Tara and Beth. He tried to calculate how much blood she had lost—in the cabin, the car and on the doctor—but he shook off the thought whenever he figured out that she probably had lost more than she had still.
Dr. Ortiz confirmed as much when she asked, "Does anyone know Rosita's blood type?"
People glanced towards Abraham and Tara, but they just looked at each other and shook their heads guiltily. Slowly all of them turned to face the doctor again, silently asking what the next step is.
"Does anyone know their own blood type? Is anyone a universal donor?" She implored.
Rick, who had walked in only a moment ago, spoke up, "I'm A+ and so is Carl."
"AB," replied Eugene simply.
"Been in the hospital enough times to know I'm B-," shrugged Carol. A few others listed off their blood types or their reasoning for not knowing their blood types. Daryl didn't know his of course, because he couldn't remember ever going to the doctor in his life.
"I'm B…" Maggie responded in a flat tone, but she glanced over at her sister from where she was tucked behind her husband. "…But Beth is O-"
/
Her wide blue eyes immediately shot up to Maggie's green ones.
"What?" Beth squeaked timidly.
"Your blood type is O-"
Then, it hit her like a train. She had a connection to her past. Not just to a time before she was shot, but to a time before even that. When there were no walkers, when she probably lived in a pretty white house like the ones in Alexandria. Maggie was her sister. She could tell Beth about their family, how she used to spend her time before it was consumed with only matters of survival. Did we have other siblings? What were our parents like? Where did we used to live? What did I like to do? Was I going to school? What were holidays like at home? She had seen so many pictures of holidays but she had never celebrated one.
Maggie was her chance to discover so much about herself, her family and about life before the world turned into this horrible mess she knew now—the world she only learned about from books and stories. The "normal world" or the "old world" as Morgan called it. That was not normal for her, it wasn't anything more than faded pictures; this walker-filled world was her norm. But maybe… maybe if Maggie told her stories… she could remember something from their old life.
She vowed to get closer to Maggie. They were sisters. Beth hadn't made any effort to get to know her since she'd been in Alexandria. Although, Maggie had ignored her too… so maybe Maggie didn't want to talk to Beth.
Is she avoiding me? Beth wondered to herself. What did I do?
"Beth?" Morgan said softly at her side. From the look in his brown eyes, it was obvious that this was not the first time someone had said her name.
"Yeah, take whatever you need Doc," Beth stood up and walked into the surgery room. They hadn't asked for her blood and she knew intrinsically that the family wouldn't ask her to give up anything, but she would do it anyway. She was a universal blood donor, apparently, and she would do whatever she could to help save one of the few good people left in the world.
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A/N: PIGGYBACK RIDES! Anyone excited about that little tidbit? More to come lovelies ;)
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