Chapter Three

Pity

Getting inside the prison wasn't easy. I stumbled up the bricks, cutting my arm on a particularly sharp bit of barbed wire and hissed in pain. I squinted down at how far away the floor was, clutching my new injury as blood started to flow through my fingers. I didn't want to slip down the slope of bricks so I took it extremely slowly. I had to take my hand away from my arm, leaving a trail of blood on the fence that I hung onto as I went down. I hoped that didn't attract any of the dead. I turned around, licking my fingers and getting the blood off.

It didn't stop it from dripping slowly down my arm. I huffed angrily at myself, sitting down against the bricks once I had fully climbed over and pulling my backpack off, rummaging through it.

I found the first aid kit and ripped the disinfectant wipes open with my mouth. I pressed one against my arm and hissed in pain. "Ow, ow, ow." I whimpered, wiping firmly and thoroughly.

I didn't come all of this way to die from an infection. Once I had finished that, I fumbled around for the bandages, I couldn't do stitches on myself so I hoped that by binding it tight enough it would stop the bleeding.

It was really hard to wind the bandages around my own arm. Being one handed at the moment really made me appreciate having two hands. It took a while but eventually I managed to do it, already feeling the blood flow being restricted, the tingles of pins and needles on the edge of being reality. I put everything back into the bag, not caring for organising it at the moment and stood up.

Time to go in I thought to myself, feeling nervous all of a sudden. I moved towards the back door, noticing that it was closed. I took a deep breath to steady myself and counted to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

I opened the door, holding my knife ready and waited for something to attack me. I waited a moment longer after nothing happened, shifting from one foot to another and moving closer. I stepped over the threshold quietly, leaving the door behind me as I could see that the door led to an open corridor with nothing inside, but I didn't have a torch with me so needed the light from outside.

So far so good, I walked further into the corridor, flinching when something creaked loudly in front of me. Please let nothing be there. I didn't feel up to fighting any of the dead with this arm. I could feel it stinging still and switched the hand that was holding my knife. I saw a stone on the floor, an idea popped into my head and I picked it up to throw it far in front of me.

One of the dead, missing its two back legs, emerged from the shadows. It pulled itself slowly forward, making disgusting tattling noises as it did so. It reached for the stone with an unfocused gaze. I took my chance, stealthily moving out of its eyeliner and stabbing it quickly in the back of the head. I wiped the knife on the back of its shirt, looking down at it in muted disgust. I was becoming desensitised to how gross the were the longer I was around them.

What happened to the legs? I wondered, getting back to my full height and staring down at the jagged stumps it was left with.

I checked the rest of the walkway, not seeing or hearing any other floor or normal height dead ones. I made it to the end of thru corridor, seeing the dead body of a prison guard sat in a chair near the doors, clearly he used to let people through the door, and to my delight he had a set of keys on his belt. I grabbed them with a small victory hoot.

A hand grasped my injured arm, pulling it roughly to a waiting, salivating mouth. I gasped and pulled myself backwards, landing on the floor with the dead one following swiftly after me, its chomping jaws coming way too close to my face. My foot connected with its stomach and I pushed with all my might, managing to fling it off me and onto the floor. I jumped up quickly, ignoring the pain in my arm and stomping directly onto its skull. The adrenaline surged through me and I continued stomping long aged its skull was a pile of goo on the floor.

Breathing heavily I stopped what I was doing and lent forwards resting my hands on my knees. The mess that now coated the floor caused my stomach to roll. I turned away swiftly.

Stooping down to grab the keys I'd dropped in the struggle I made my way towards the nearest door and rested against it briefly before pulling it open. I could feel the adrenaline still in my system and wanted to find somewhere safe that I could sleep in tonight. There was nothing to greet me as I stepped forward into what appeared to be a cell block. A giant E was painted on the wall.

I peered into the nearest cell, there were blood splatters up the wall and stains on the bed and floor. I grimaced in disgust and moved onto the next cell. It was the same as the last.

Cleaning out one of the cells was a priority, I checked the rest of the block and found a suitable bed for myself. It was the one with the least blood splatters on the wall and once I stripped the bed it seemed clean enough for me to sleep on.

Maybe I could find some clean clothes or bedding tomorrow?

There was enough light that it didn't look very creepy but I was sure once the sun went down it would look a lot worse. I needed something that would give me light but not give me away should someone see it through the barred windows. I searched the cell I had chosen and found some paper along with a few scraps of fabric. I'm not sure what they were for. I also found a makeshift knife, some matches and what looked like cocaine. I had definitely stumbled on someone's stash of contraband.

The matches were a godsend and finding these supplies made me search through the neighbouring cells, hoping to find more. I found a lighter and more books, I would have to start a small fire in here, if I could maybe find some candles it would be perfect. I tested the keys on my chosen cell door and smiled when it locked. I would definitely be locking the door while I slept.

Safe. My eyes watered as the magnitude of what I had found hit me harder than it had the first time I saw the prison. I sat back down on the bed after taking the pillow from the top bunk and adding it to my own bunk.

Home sweet home

I had found the infirmary. My bandages had soaked through with blood and I had started to sweat. I wiped the back of my hand over my forehead, trying to stop the sweat from reaching my eyes as I looked through the supplies.

Bottles of pills were lined up in a shelf in one of the cupboards and I was looking through them.

I didn't know the names of any painkillers or antibiotics but I knew I has to take something because my new temperature was definitely a sign of something bad coming.

The feelings of frustration were growing stronger the more tablets I found and I felt myself growing angry.

"Yes!" I shouted, too happy at finding some Aspirin to monitor the volume of noise I was making. Opening the bottle I quickly downed two pills and sighed in relief. There were so many bottles of tablets here that I wondered if I should try and find a book or something so I would know what they were all for. It would probably come in useful.

As I put the Asparin in my bag to take back to my cell just in case I needed it later, I heard the creak of the door. Whipping my head up, I scrambled backwards as I saw someone in the doorway, I had dropped my knife when I opened the pill bottle and it was out of reach.

It was a man, of medium build, scraggly brown hair covered his eyes and he had a slight beard. He held a crossbow directed at me, an arrow notched and racy to fire. My mouth dried up in fright as I realised I was at his mercy. His eyes flickered to the blood soaked bandages that I hadn't yet changed and I could feel the tension in the room rising.

"You bit?" He asked roughly.

I shook my head.

He nodded towards my arm. "What's that then?" He demanded, raising his crossbow. I flinched and skittered backwards, wincing as I hit my head on a set of drawers behind me.

"I'm not bit." I insisted. "It's just a cut."

He scowled at me, walking closer slowly and not lowering his weapon. "I'm gonna need to see that."

I frowned, confused. "Why?" I covered my arm, trying to protect it from his gaze. I knew, realistically, that he wanted to know that I wasn't going to turn into a firggin zombie while he was in the same area but I didn't know or trust him. I didn't want him near me. "Get back!" I hissed as he walked even closer. there was nowhere else for me to go and I started to panic even more, verging on hyperventilating.

He ignored me, pushing his crossbow behind me after seemingly assessing that I wasn't a threat, and knelt next to me. I froze like a deer in headlights. I watched carefully, unable to move, as he reached forwards and undid my bandages. The arm began to bleed faster as soon as it was taken off and the cold air hitting it made it hurt even more.

I looked at it sadly, forgetting for a minute that there was a strange man touching me, and wondering how slow my death would be after the infection fully settled in.

"You need stitches." He said after consideration.

I scoffed, finding my voice again. "Great, let me just set up an appointment at the hospital and I'll get right onto that."

He huffed in amusement, then caught himself before looking me in the eyes for the first time. The blue startled me as I was unsure how a man as rugged as he appeared could have such nice eyes. I was caught in the crossfire until he looked away from me. He nibbled on his lip, weighing up some kind of decision in his head.

"Pass me that needle."

AN: Daryl has made his appearance! I hope he's not too out of character but do let me know if you think he is. I thought that he might feel sorry for this small woman he's found scrounging around the infirmary looking for a way to help herself.

He hasn't forgotten about the danger she might pose though, being so close to his group he wouldn't forget that. You have to admit she must look quite pitiful in that moment, bless her. I do love to throw my characters in at the deep end.

As always, please let me know what you think and if you're enjoying it.