Chapter 26 - The Fever
AN: I just wanted to take a timeout to say thank you to those of you who read and review. I love hearing from you, whether you've been reading from the beginning, or you just recently found this story. You guys' feedback is what keeps me writing. So, thank you :)
0o0o0
"Emma shot Trish!" Andrea cried in Shane's arms, turning so that she could point a shaking finger in Emma's direction.
Daryl pulled his hands away from Emma's neck so that he could pull her entire body to him.
"Rick, you know what's going on here." Daryl said, his voice deep and gruff after all of the animalistic sounds he had been spewing just moments before. "Tell them."
"Daryl-"
"Tell them, or I will." Daryl barked.
Daryl let go of Emma, but just so that he could pull Sam to her. Sam stood beside Emma, but positioned himself in front of her should anyone try to come near her. With tensions running high, Emma let Daryl and Sam do what they needed to. She remained silent as Daryl took several steps towards Rick.
"I'm not gonna let her look like a monster just to keep your secret safe." Daryl snapped.
"What are they talking about?" Ellen asked, stepping out of Shane's arms.
"Perhaps we should disperse for a while, let-"
"No." Rick interrupted the reverend as he stepped into the house to make peace. "No. Daryl is right. There's something I need to tell you...all of you..."
Andrea turned around completely, but remained in Shane's embrace. Ellen folded her arms over her chest, waiting. The doctor gently tugged the sheets up over Trish's body. Rick cleared his throat.
"When Jackie hung herself...something happened..." Rick began slowly, delicately.
"Spit it out, Rick." Daryl grumbled impatiently.
"What happened?" Andrea asked, becoming frantic.
"Jackie...she..." Rick only needed to look at Daryl's furious expression once before he continued. "Jackie, after she was dead, she...turned into...one of those things..."
Andrea and Ellen gasped simultaneously.
"What?" Ellen asked weakly.
"What do you mean?" Andrea asked in disbelief.
"Are you certain?" The reverend asked.
Rick turned to give the reverend a nod.
"I am-"
"Yeah, so Emma was doing ya'll a favor by shooting her." Daryl interrupted Rick as he spat his words at Andrea and Ellen. "If she hadn't, ya'll might've been infected, you-"
"Daryl, that's enough!" Shane shouted.
Andrea peeled Shane's arm off of her.
"Andrea-"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Andrea asked Shane, but then spun to address Rick, Daryl, and Emma. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't think it was the right time." Rick replied. "We had just been through so much...lost so much...I didn't think-"
"That wasn't your decision to make." Ellen cut Rick off viciously, her voice quivering with anger. "We're a group. We do things as a group. We should all have the same information-"
"I know." Rick agreed, taking a step in Andrea and Ellen's direction, his hands raised.
Suddenly, the sound of someone groaning got everyone's attention. It was Benjamin, rousing from his unconsciousness. Rick snapped into action, stepping in front of Benjamin's body as he slowly began to move. Daryl blocked Emma and Sam with his body, his eyes narrowed at Benjamin.
"Get her out of here." Rick hissed to Daryl, waving towards the door.
Daryl nodded. Together, he and Sam quickly escorted Emma out of the house.
0o0o0
It was too late to bury Trish by the time Benjamin had woken, and everything was explained to him. While the reverend and Andrea stayed with Benjamin as he howled over his dead wife and unborn child, the others went to Merle's house. While the commotion over Emma shooting Trish had taken place, Luanne had been tasked with informing Todd that his mother had been killed in town. Apparently, Mary had gotten spooked, and had fired her pistol. Before the others could get to her, she was swarmed. There was nothing they could do for her, and it was about that time that Sam showed up. Todd had been so upset by the news that Carol had taken him upstairs to lay down. Rick thought about sending the other kids upstairs so that he could tell Luanne and Kate about what had happened to Trish, and about what would happen to all of them when they died. Instead, he opted to let the children stay in an effort to put an end to all of the secrecy.
Sam and Daryl, with Skipper following close behind when they had exited Sam's house, took Emma to Daryl's house. The three of them just sat together in silence. Emma held Skipper in her lap, stroking his fur. She thought back to when it was just her and Skipper against the world. Sometimes, she missed it being that way. As she looked up at Daryl and Sam, who were watching over her because they cared deeply for her, she dismissed those thoughts. It was better with her friends.
That night, Emma skipped supper. Daryl had to go on watch, and Emma overheard him asking Sam to stay with her, but Emma put an end to their nonsense. She had indulged their protectiveness while tempers were flared and emotions were flying back and forth across the room. Since the truth had been revealed to everyone, Emma didn't feel that she needed to be protected. So, she stayed at Daryl's by herself. Sam left Skipper with her. Emma welcomed the old dog with open arms. He curled up with her in Daryl's bed, just like old times. Comforted by Skipper's presence, Emma drifted off to sleep.
Emma was plagued with horrible dreams as she tried to sleep. She replayed the scene of her shooting Trish in the head, except in the dream, Emma also shot Andrea and Ellen. Then, she spun around and shot everyone who came through the door. In another dream, Trish's corpse got out of the bed, bullet wound and all, to chase Emma around the farm. No matter how many times Emma shot at Trish, she kept coming. Emma woke from that dream before Trish could catch her. Daryl was in bed next to her, having returned at some point from watch duty. Emma tossed and turned for the remainder of the night, annoying Skipper enough that he trotted over to Daryl's side of the bed.
In the morning, after breakfast, everyone gathered at Jackie's and Trish's resting place. Emma felt poorly from having slept very little the night before. There was a dull thudding within her skull. She rubbed her temples to soothe the pain, but it didn't seem to help.
"Lord, we pray today for our group as we mourn the deaths of Mary and Trish." The reverend spoke as he began the service. "Be gentle with us in our time of grief. Show us the depth of your love. Spare us the torment of guilt and despair. Be with us as we weep for our loss. Amen."
"Amen." Everyone replied.
"Mary Giles was a wonderful woman. Her son, Todd, is a testament to her. After she lost her husband just three years after Todd was born, Mary was left to parent her son alone..."
Emma looked over at Todd, whose eyes were on the ground. Ellen had her hands on Todd's shoulders as she stood behind him. Luanne was holding Anna beside them. Silent tears trickled down Todd's face. He didn't sob or sniff. Any shred of innocence Todd had left was gone with his mother. Emma watched as Carl silently made his way over to where his friend stood. Carl reached out for Todd's hand. If anyone knew what Todd was going through, it was Carl.
"Trish Caufield was young and full of life. I remember how much fun Amy, Trish, and Kate would have together as they sat in my parlor room together, sharing their hopes and dreams...maybe even a little bit of gossip. I know in my heart that Trish and Amy are keeping each other company. Perhaps, they are sitting together now, watching over us..."
Benjamin was crying hard as the reverend spoke of his newly dead wife. Emma could tell from his face that he had probably been crying all night. It looked like Andrea and Shane were practically holding Benjamin up as he openly wept.
"...Benjamin has shared with me that had the baby been a girl, she would have been called Ruthanne. Had the baby been a boy, he would have been named after his father." The reverend bowed his head. "Let us have a moment of silence for Trish's unborn child."
Emma bowed her head along with everyone else.
"Lord, grant eternal rest to our loved ones." The reverend spoke after several moments of silence. "Let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the departed rest in peace. Amen."
"Amen."
0o0o0
"Bow your heads." The reverend commanded.
Everyone bowed their heads in prayer.
"Lord, we ask that you bar this dark soul from your kingdom."
"Amen." Everyone replied automatically.
"We ask that you turn this soul away from your paradise."
"Amen."
"We ask that you hurl this black soul into the fiery pits below."
"Amen."
"Send this soul careening into the darkness where it belongs. Amen."
"Amen."
Emma woke and sat up with a start. The neck of her nightdress was drenched in sweat. Her heart was pounding so forcefully that she pressed her hand over it to keep it within her chest. Emma tried to control her heavy, ragged breaths. She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. It took several minutes, but eventually, her breathing returned to a normal rhythm and her heart slowed to a steady pace. Luckily for her, Daryl had been retrieved during the night for watch. Emma was alone. Daryl wouldn't know how terribly she was sleeping, or how awful her dreams were.
Emma went to comb her hair back off her face with her fingers, but stopped when she touched her forehead. It was slick with sweat and warmer than usual to the touch. Emma pressed her hands to her cheeks. They were just as clammy and warm as her forehead. Emma knew she couldn't be getting sick. She hadn't taken ill in years. Instead, she attributed her wet, warm skin with the nightmare she had woken from.
After she had calmed down, Emma slowly laid back down and tried to go back to sleep.
0o0o0
December arrived, and with it, snow. It started to fall on the first, as though winter was already announcing itself to the group. The kids were delighted with the snowfall. After lessons, they ran out into the white wonderland, bundled up in several layers of clothes, to play. All seemed to be forgotten, if only for that afternoon of fun and laughter. Even many of the adults put aside their heartaches for the day to play with the kids. Shane and Sam started a snowball fight with the children, but soon, Kate and Andrea joined in.
Meanwhile, Emma went out to work as per usual. With her nights being held hostage by haunting dreams, all she could rely on for normalcy was her daily routine. As Emma fed the animals, she ignored the fierce heat that spread through her, turning up her temperature to the point where she could have undressed in the snow without becoming cold. As she fixed one of the outhouse doors, she ignored the dull thudding that was quickly becoming a hard pounding in her head. Emma refused to believe she was getting sick. She couldn't afford to be sick. There was so much to be done, so many people to care for. Emma being ill would just be another burden upon the group, not that they were speaking to her much.
So, Emma stubbornly ignored her symptoms, and went about her usual business.
0o0o0
"Bow your heads." The reverend commanded.
Everyone bowed their heads in prayer.
"Lord, we ask that you bar this dark soul from your kingdom."
"Amen." Everyone replied automatically.
"We ask that you turn this soul away from your paradise."
"Amen."
"We ask that you hurl this black soul into the fiery pits below."
"Amen."
"Send this soul careening into the darkness where it belongs. Amen."
"Amen."
Emma made her way from the back of the group to the front. She wanted to know who they were talking about. She needed to see whose grave they were gathered around.
Emma could sense Daryl's presence beside her, so she caught herself halfway up so as not to wake him. The sudden motion sent waves of nausea tumbling over her. Emma knew she was going to be sick, but she didn't want to wake Daryl. Over the past few days, she had done a good job of avoiding him so that he wouldn't be able to tell there was something going on with her. Emma planned to continue keeping Daryl out of her business, so she quickly got out of bed. Emma barely made it out of the house before she was emptying the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Her knees quivered as she pressed one hand to the side of the house for support. As she got sick, her conversation with the reverend the day she and Daryl came to town to see ailing Amy played on an infinite loop in her head.
"What are the symptoms?" Emma asked.
"At first, it was only fatigue and fever." The reverend explained slowly. "She became unable to keep any food down, which weakened her even more so than before..."
A horrible realization came crashing down upon Emma as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She could have the disease that had killed so many townspeople. The symptoms she had been experiencing matched Amy's. Emma knew the worst of the illness would follow. She knew because the reverend had explained it to her. She knew because she had experienced it firsthand with poor Clarke. As Emma remembered the agony Clarke went through when he was dying, she thought of Daryl. She couldn't put him through what she had gone through those three awful days. Emma wouldn't do it to Daryl.
Emma turned and looked at the barn. Most of her things were still in the loft since she hadn't properly moved back into Daryl's house. The barn had been Emma's sanctuary so many times over the course of the past year. It would have to be her sanctuary just one more time.
0o0o0
Emma knew if she didn't continue working, she would draw attention and suspicion from Daryl, Sam, and maybe even the others if they took notice of her at all. So, she did what she could to continue living normally and avoided everyone when she could. To avoid becoming physically sick so often, Emma took her meals in private and ate very little.
Daryl noticed right away that Emma had stopped staying the night at his house.
"What're you doing staying in here?" Daryl asked Emma on the second night she slept in the loft.
"I want to stay here." Emma replied as she mucked out the stalls while the animals ate outside.
"Why?" Daryl asked, puzzled by Emma's sudden decision.
"Because."
Emma was willing to make Daryl think she was mad at him, or upset with him about something. If that meant he would stay away from her, therefore not discover her illness, she would gladly do it. Emma wasn't sure how Daryl would react if she confided in him that she was sick. Would he conceal her from the group? Would he make her see the doctor? Would he come to the same conclusion that she had, that she could have come down with the mysterious illness that created biters, and put a bullet in her head? Since Emma wasn't sure, she decided not to risk trusting Daryl with the awful truth. Instead, she did what she could to push him away. She seemed to be good at doing it in the past.
"But..." Daryl started to speak, but stopped as Emma continued mucking out stalls.
"Just get out of here." Emma muttered. "Leave me alone."
Emma didn't dare look up from her chore to see Daryl's reaction. Instead, she kept working as though Daryl didn't even exist. Then, she heard him stomping away from her. The barn doors slammed shut behind him. Emma sighed and leaned against her pitchfork. Then, she quickly pulled it aside just as she threw up all over the stall floor. Luckily for her, she was already in the process of cleaning it out. Emma set the pitchfork down and used a bucket of water to splash away the evidence of her sickness.
After that, Daryl avoided Emma just like she avoided him.
0o0o0
A week came and went, and still Emma was ill. She was getting sicker with each day that passed. In her weakened state, it was becoming harder for her to pretend all was well. She struggled to complete her chores, so she left many of them unfinished for someone else to come along and take care of properly. At the week long marker, Emma finally gave up on leaving the barn to do anything. She accepted the fact that she was dying, pulled the quilt up over her shivering body, and waited for death to take her.
As Emma lay waiting, she thought back on the people she had known and cared for, the ones who had departed the world of the living. Hershel's face was the first to flicker through her mind. She remembered those five happy years she spent with him. She thought of their late night conversations about the lives they led, the tragedies they had experienced, and the good times they had together. Emma remembered how peacefully Hershel had passed. If she was going to die, she wanted to die like that. She wanted to gently drift away in her little bed, calm and ready.
Lori was next. Emma thought of their last conversation, how it had been so important to Lori to convey to her that the job would still be hers no matter what happened. Lori hadn't been ready to die, but she had prepared for it. She made sure that there was someone who would step in when she was gone to put the broken pieces of her family back together. Emma's thoughts drifted to that horrible scene in Rick's and Lori's bedroom after she had died. It had to have been a terrible way to go. Lori must have been in a lot of agony and pain when she passed away. It had to have been devastating to know that she was leaving a husband, a son, and a brand new baby girl behind. Emma wasn't sure how Lori could have ever found peace in the afterlife. She hoped that by taking the job after Lori's death, she had been able to give the poor woman some kind of peace.
Clarke and Amy, who had both succumbed to the illness that was killing Emma, drifted into her mind. Clarke, with his greased hair and nervous mannerisms, and Amy, the girl who had brought so much joy into Sam's life. They had both been dear to Emma in different ways. Clarke would have made a wonderful husband to a very lucky girl, but Emma just hadn't been that girl. She met Clarke at a time in her life when the last thing she wanted was a man. Besides, living in town without any real land and space of her own would have made Emma miserable. Therefore, she would have dragged Clarke down with her. They were better off as friends. Clarke had been Emma's first real friend in Scarlet Town, not counting the reverend and Amy. Emma had made friends with Clarke all on her own, not with Hershel's help. Even though it had initially made Daryl very angry, Emma was still glad that she had taken care of Clarke during his time of need. She remembered how hard he had fought off death in those last few hours, restless and stubborn. Emma wondered if in the end, it had brought Clarke any peace knowing that he had put up a struggle in the end. She hoped it had.
Though Emma hadn't been present when Amy slipped away, she had heard about her final moments from the reverend. Emma thought how fortunate Amy was to have been surrounded by people she loved and cared for, people who would miss her when she was gone. It had to have been comforting.
Emma was just thinking of Merle as she started to drift off to sleep, exhausted. There were flashes of his toothy grin, the lines on his face, and the wicked twinkle in his eyes.
"Bow your heads." The reverend commanded.
Everyone bowed their heads in prayer.
"Lord, we ask that you bar this dark soul from your kingdom."
"Amen." Everyone replied automatically.
"We ask that you turn this soul away from your paradise."
"Amen."
"We ask that you hurl this black soul into the fiery pits below."
"Amen."
"Send this soul careening into the darkness where it belongs. Amen."
"Amen."
Emma made her way from the back of the group to the front. She wanted to know who they were talking about. She needed to see whose grave they were gathered around. As she got to the front, she looked down into the freshly dug grave. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that it was her own body at the bottom of the hole.
"All right." Rick said, lifting up his shovel. "Let's get this over with."
"You said it." Shane agreed, holding up his own shovel.
Emma turned to see that each member of the group, even the kids, were holding shovels. They all began shoveling dirt into Emma's grave, covering her body. They were all wearing smiles, as though Emma's death and burying her decaying body was a joyous occasion. Even Daryl was smiling.
Emma woke from the dream sputtering as though she had been underwater. She sat up slowly to prevent herself from becoming dizzy.
"Emma?"
Emma realized that Daryl was in the barn, and that he had probably woken her from the nightmare. She crawled over to the ladder to see Daryl standing below, lantern in hand.
"What?" Emma asked, trying to sound annoyed, but instead sounding tired.
"Will you come down and talk to me?" Daryl asked.
"It's late." Emma replied, trembling without her quilt. "Go away."
"If you come down and talk to me for a minute, I'll go."
"No." Emma refused, moving back from the ladder.
"Fine." Daryl snapped. "I'm coming up."
Emma stumbled backwards on her hands and knees as Daryl started up the ladder. She quickly crawled to her bed and picked up the quilt. By the time she stood and wrapped it around her body, Daryl had climbed the ladder with his lantern.
"What do you want?" Emma asked, raising her voice as loud as it would go.
Daryl took a step towards Emma, but she sidestepped towards the opposite side of the loft.
"I want to know what the hell is going on." Daryl retorted angrily.
"I already told you." Emma replied, focusing on taking careful, steady steps as she walked away from Daryl to the other side of the loft where the hay doors were shut. "I want to stay here."
"Why?" Daryl asked.
"Why does it matter?" Emma asked, whirling around a little too quickly.
Daryl started to come towards Emma when she stumbled, but she caught herself and threw her hand up.
"Stay over there." Emma snapped weakly, her head spinning. "I don't want you near me."
"You don't..."
Daryl stomped across the loft floor towards Emma, ignoring her request. The lantern swung violently in his hand, casting dizzying shadows across the floor, walls, and ceiling. Emma closed her eyes to avoid seeing them, worried that they might make her sick.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" Daryl asked, keeping a few feet between himself and Emma.
"Nothing." Emma insisted, her voice growing involuntarily softer.
"Why don't you want to stay with me?" Daryl asked. "Why don't you want me near you?"
Emma tried to think of a response, but her mind was growing foggier the longer she stood and the more she tried to think.
"Emma, look at me." Daryl said, his voice lowering.
Emma kept her eyes shut.
"Emma, please." Daryl pleaded, taking a step forward. "Look at me."
"Go." Emma managed to force one word out of her mouth.
Emma tried to walk past Daryl, but he reached out for her. It had become too much for Emma. As Daryl's fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her, her body gave in. Daryl's eyes widened as Emma started to crumple beside him. The lantern fell to the floor with a crash as Daryl caught Emma in his arms before she could fall to the floor. He heard a sound like a strangled gasp escape her lips, then nothing.
"Emma!" Daryl cried out as he held her motionless body in his arms.
With Emma in such close proximity to Daryl's body, he could feel the heat coming off of her. He knew in an instant, as her body trembled in his arms, that she was sick. Daryl thought of the news Rick had shared with everyone after Trish died.
"Anyone who contracts the illness, and anyone who dies while in this group, must be shot in the head immediately...to prevent anyone from becoming a biter. It's for the good of the group..."
Daryl couldn't let the others know about Emma. With the announcement, and with the drama surrounding Emma lately concerning the guns and Trish, Daryl feared that the group would jump at the chance to put a bullet in Emma's head. Daryl felt his survival instincts kick in as he held Emma. He entered hunter mode with the flick of an internal switch. Daryl's priority was to protect Emma at all costs. That would mean getting her off the farm, but town wasn't an option. Daryl thought of the cabin. If he left with Emma soon, they could be off the farm and to the cabin before anyone would notice they were gone.
Daryl swiftly pulled Emma up into his arms and carried her to her bed. He gently laid her down and covered her in the quilt that had been around her shoulders. Then, he started collecting all he would need to care for Emma at the cabin. It was easy to collect things from the loft and from his own house. It would prove more difficult to get medical supplies from Merle's house. Daryl carefully crept into the house through the backdoor. Andrea was asleep on the sofa. Daryl silently sidestepped into the pantry. He grabbed bottles and viles left and right, then threw them all into the saddlebag he had brought with him. Andrea didn't stir once the entire time Daryl was inside the house. He left just as quietly. The last stop was to the gun location, but when he got there, he didn't find the sack. Rick and Shane had moved them without telling Daryl where.
Armed with his crossbow, Daryl returned to the barn. He saddled and bridled Jim, then packed up the saddlebags. Then, he climbed the ladder to get Emma. She was still unconscious. Daryl quickly checked for a heartbeat, breathing a sigh of relief when he found one, then carefully gathered her into his arms. In order to get her down the ladder, Daryl had to throw Emma over one shoulder. When they were safely on the ground, Daryl lifted Emma into the saddle, arranging the quilt around her body to keep her warm on their journey. She lolled forward, but remained in the saddle as Daryl took up the reigns and led Jim out of the barn on foot. Once they were off the property, Daryl would be able to climb up into the saddle and ride Jim the rest of the way.
As they approached the gate, Daryl saw Sam keeping watch. Had it been Rick, or Shane, or one of the others, Daryl would have snuck up behind them and knocked them out. Instead, Daryl decided to inform Sam of what was going on. Besides, Daryl needed somebody to look after the farm while he was gone.
"Hey." Sam greeted Daryl confusedly as he approached. "What-"
"Listen, Sam," Daryl interrupted Sam, "I'm leaving with Emma."
"What?" Sam asked, his eyes landing on Emma's comatose form. "What-"
"Listen." Daryl hissed in the darkness. "Emma's sick. I got to get her out of here so the others don't find out-"
"Why?"
"'Cause they'll kill her." Daryl snapped. "That's why."
Daryl closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
"I'm sorry...I just...we need to go." Daryl told Sam in a less hostile tone.
"I'll come with you-"
"No." Daryl shook his head and let go of the reigns to set his hands on Sam's shoulders. "I need you to stay here. You gotta look after things, make sure they don't find out where we went."
Sam didn't look convinced, but he sighed.
"All right." Sam agreed.
"Take care of this place while we're gone." Daryl said, giving Sam's shoulder a pat as he retracted his hands.
"Take care of Emma." Sam replied as he opened the gate.
"I will." Daryl promised, tugging on the reigns.
As Daryl led Jim quietly off the property, Sam gave him a gentle thump on the back. Daryl turned his head once as Sam closed the gate behind them. Then, Daryl carefully mounted Jim. He laid Emma back so that her back was flush with his chest. Her head was tucked in between his chin and his shoulder. When they were both situated in the saddle, Daryl took up the reigns again.
"Hold on, Emma." Daryl murmured.
"I'm Not Afraid To Die" - Gillian Welch [The service/Emma thinks about death]
"Hallelujah" - Jeff Buckley [Daryl discovers that Emma is sick, takes her away from the farm]