We didn't get close enough to the prison when we saw the chaos unfolding in the distance. Several tunnels of smoke were filling the sky with dark grey clouds. The amount of walkers had tripled. The herd had the road packed so tightly, it was impossible to even consider getting through the thick of it.
Daryl slammed on the breaks, veering the van into the trees, nearly throwing the rest of us from of seats.
We had to act fast, otherwise the van would have been our tomb. I threw a panicked look at Merle, who quickly had Alana out of the seat and on his lap. I reached around and grabbed the first aid kit, not willing to leave it behind. Aside from that, we all grabbed the first weapons out hands could reach before making a run for it.
I didn't get far before I felt the now familiar sensation of blood flowing freely from my side. We had been split up by the walkers who were now turning their attention to the smell of fresh blood. I groaned and threw myself onto a tree, reaching numbly for the branches overhead. I pulled myself up, using all my strength to put a safe distance between the walkers and myself. Breathless, I looked around, trying to spot my friends.
Michonne had been closest to me and was now making her way back, her katana taking out the walkers with ease, but they were quickly replaced by the countless others in the herd. I riffled through the bag, trying to find the one weapon that might serve a purpose. To my amazement, it was right there all along. Three grenades, which I had stolen from Woodbury before leaving the first time.
When Michonne made it to the tree I was perched in, I spared her a knowing look. She saw the bomb in my hand, a single nod offered before she ducked behind the tree, waiting for the explosion. I removed the pin and slammed my thumb on the lever. I tried to make out where the brothers and Alana had taken off to, but the walkers were too thick to see through. I took a deep breath, channeling all of my training into that one, single grenade. I used all my strength to throw it into the midst of the herd. A moment later, the explosion went off, sending me flying from the tree. Thankfully, I landed in a patch of leaves and didn't feel the impact all that much.
I was on my feet the second Michonne reached me. She threw an arm around my waist, having seen the blood pooling from my side. Together, we made for the prison in hopes we'd be able to salvage whatever was left. Alana's shrill scream brought us both to a halt before we'd even made it a hundred feet.
"Alana!" I called out, fear rising in my chest. Her screams continued to our right. We took off without sparing a word to one another, each lost in their own survival mode. When we reached the little girl, I was stunned to see Merle standing protectively over her, his eyes wild as he swiped and stabbed at the oncoming walkers.
"Back to back?" I asked Michonne in a strained tone. She nodded once and with the other at each other's backs, we made it to the pair, taking out countless walkers in our haste.
"Alana, talk to me," I said softly, keeping my back pressed against Michonne's. Alana looked terrified but didn't say a word. Her eyes were locked on Merle, her sole protector. Merle was covered in blood and dirt. His face was pale and emotionless. It was the first time I got a real good look at the man the prison had been so eager to banish.
"Merle?" I called softly, earning no response from the older man. "Merle!"
He said nothing, just turned and looked at me with distant, faraway eyes. I saw the panic creeping up on his face, but wasn't prepared for what he did next.
My body felt like it was on fire. The pain was intense, worse than anything I'd ever felt before. Worse than childbirth. Worse than being in that car wreck when I was 17. Worse than being mulled by that stupid dog when I was 5. No, this pain was even worse than the pain Woodbury caused me.
Michonne was shouting something above me, her katana pressed against Merle's throat. Alana was wailing at my side, her screams calling all the walkers in the area over to us. I felt familiar, rough hands on my face, blue eyes coming into view. I felt Daryl lift my limp body up against his. I wasn't able to react. The pain was just too unreal.
Daryl's posture shifted and that was when I saw it. The pool of blood. My blood? But how could that even be possible? How could I have lost that much blood from that stupid cut in my side? It wasn't that deep. It wasn't that serious. Sure, the infection caused a lot of problems, but it shouldn't have bled that much.
Then it came back to me.
"Merle?" I called softly, earning no response from the older man. "Merle!"
He said nothing, just turned and looked at me with distant, faraway eyes. I saw the panic creeping up on his face. I couldn't react in time as he leveled the knife with my daughter's throat. Neither could Michonne, who was busy trying to ward off the walkers. The next thing I knew was pain. The worst pain I'd ever felt in my entire life. The pain of my heart being ripped from my chest as my little girl fell to the ground, blood pooling from her throat. Her eyes went blank as life left her body. I fell beside her, my hands gripping at her tiny body, my fingers twitching in effort to stop the blood. But it was hopeless. Within a minute's time, she was dead. She was as dead as I felt as I protectively laid over her, not caring that I was the easiest target in the world.
"I could gut you like a fish right here and now!" Michonne growled, her katana pushing dangerously against his throat.
"No," I moaned, unable to do much else. "Not…worth…it."
"Harleigh?" Daryl looked down at me, his blue eyes full of fear. I stared back at him, unable to fully wrap my head around what was happening. Then I saw her, my little girl. Lying in a pool of her own blood. Her body broken and cold. I reached for her hand but Daryl refused to let me move from his arms.
Because at that same instance, the little girl began to stir. A low, gurgling moan escaped her lips as she sat up, her eyes red and bloodshot. Her little hands reached for me.
Had it not been for Michonne, I probably would have let her kill me. Because to me, she was still my little girl. She was still my daughter.
"Is that Michonne?" Maggie cried, looking out through the down gate. They were all tucked safely in the prison, having cleared out the walkers that had pushed their way in after the Governor's attack.
"Is it?" Beth asked, shielding her eyes against the sunlight.
"It is!" Maggie cried. "Rick! Rick, they're back!" She shouted, running towards the entrance to the prison.
"Maggie, hang on!" Glenn called, chasing after her.
It didn't matter. Michonne was leading the way through the walkers, her katana flying in every direction to fend off the dangers that surrounded them. Daryl led Harleigh through the mess of bodies. She had an emotionless look on her face as she walked, her body rigid, her skin ice cold to the touch. Daryl spared one glance back at his crazed brother. They couldn't leave him out in the woods to fend for himself in the state he was in, but Daryl, his own flesh and blood, hated the man more than ever for what he had just done.
Once the exhausted group made their way into the prison yard, they began to take in the damage. As Harleigh had predicted, Michonne knew this was the work of the Governor. She took a protective step in front of Harleigh, blocking the stunned woman's view.
They didn't need to wait when they reached the front of the prison. Maggie had the door open faster than Glenn could close it. Maggie pushed past Michonne and hugged Daryl in spite of herself, causing the tense redneck to flinch sideways, losing his grip on Harleigh's arm. Without him supporting her, her knees gave way and she sank into the bloody soil. Daryl growled at Maggie and pushed her aside to reach Harleigh, who was staring ahead, her eyes showing no sign of the life she had moments before.
"What happened?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide as she looked from Daryl, back to Merle who stood a good distance away, his face vacant.
"We could ask you the same," Michonne said quickly before anything was said about Merle's uncanny outburst. Harleigh didn't even move when Daryl reached for her arms. She was staring off into the distance, her eyes trailing something no one else saw right away.
"Carol," she moaned, her eyes flashing with an uncertain spark as she allowed Daryl to haul her to her feet.
"What?" Daryl asked her, following her gaze. When his eyes trained on the object of her statement, he felt like he was punched in the stomach. All air left his lungs as he watched the woman he once spent so much time protecting, stumble towards them, her eyes wide, her face as pale as Harleigh's, her body covered in blood.
"Carol," Harleigh said again, this time pulling away from Daryl, her knife drawn before he could protest. "C'mere Carol," she called louder, leading the woman away from her friends. The woman's moans were heard by all as Harleigh led her into the middle of the field, her hands at her side. Carol lunged at her, causing Daryl to push forward, only to stop when he saw the broken woman had it under control. Carol went for her throat, but Harleigh had foreseen the attack. She grabbed Carol's thin arms and pushed her back, her free hand plunging the knife deep into her skull, causing the older woman to slump against her chest, pushing her to the ground. Harleigh didn't struggle. She just laid there, the corpse of the woman who hated her weighing her down.
"Go get her," Michonne whispered to Daryl. "She's gonna go into shock at any moment. Today's been too much for her," she looked back at Merle before looking at Harleigh. "It's been too much for all of us."
Without need for anything else to be said, Daryl quickly went over to Harleigh, pulling Carol's dead body from hers before scooping the bloody, broken woman up in his arms, pulling her securely against his chest. Maggie bit back a sob as she watched, her eyes full of tears. The rest of the prison group had filed out of the prison, each with a look of sadness on their faces. All except Rick, who seemed to be channeling Harleigh's pain, his eyes locked in the distance, as if he was watching someone no one else could see.
No one dared speak as Daryl carried Harleigh into the prison, taking her right to Hershel, who began assessing her condition silently. Daryl slumped against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands, looking utterly exhausted. It was a wonder he had even kept his head given everything that had happened. But Harleigh brought out the good in his heart. Without realizing it, he silently promised himself to tell her how he felt. Because she needed him. She needed him just as much as he needed her.
A/n - *runs and hides* Don't kill me! I promise, I didn't intentionally kill off Alana, it just kind of had to happen! The alternative would have brought the entire story to a very sudden end, which I didn't want! Merle had to go crazy at some point - we'll find out why very soon.
So, what do you all think? *shivers* Told you, things were about to get very dark, very fast!