It took a moment for the initial shock to wear off. The explosion had all but leveled the prison. I tried to look around as the dust settled, but it was painful to even consider what I might see. The prison still stood, though it was clear the far wall was destroyed. My eyes lingered there only long enough to gather my bearings before turning my attention to the one man that meant more to me than anyone else.
"Daryl!" I cried, his pale skin looking even sicklier covered in dirt, blood and debris. He had been through against the bus, where he now laid limply, his hair standing in all directions. I almost got to my feet when I remembered Rick. Rick was laying at my side, his lips shaking, blood streaming through his fingers. There was no way he could move.
"Rick, hang in there, okay?" I hissed, placing a careful hand on his arm. "I'll be right back."
"I-is everyone o-okay?" he stammered.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. I forced myself to my feet, overly aware of how exhausted my body felt. I grabbed my bow from where it landed under the car before slowly making my way over to Daryl, my eyes and ears alert to even the smallest movements.
As I neared, I vaguely wondered where Merle was. It seemed almost ironic that he was there one minute, then poof, in a swirl of smoke, he was gone. I took down the few walkers than the sound had attracted, not all that concerned about what we were going to do about the back wall. Right then, all I cared about was knowing our people made it out alive.
"Daryl," I said softly as I fell to the ground at his side, my hands searching for any kind of injury. Aside from being out cold, he seemed relatively unharmed. Then I saw it. The deeply embedded piece of debris in his thigh. My stomach turned at the sight. I quickly placed my hand over the wound, trying to formulate a plan that would get everything securely inside sooner, rather than later.
"Harleigh! How bad is he?" Glenn called, running towards us. I looked up. Glenn's face was bruised, but aside from that, he looked unharmed.
"Daryl's out cold, piece of metal in his leg. Rick's got a gunshot to the right shoulder, he's losing a lot of blood," I told the Asian, who was at my side in a moment's time. "We lose anyone?"
"Not sure. Michonne's clearing out as many walkers as she can right now. What's the plan?" he asked. The fact that he was turning to me for advice was a little unnerving.
"I don't know if Daryl hit his head or anything when the bomb went off. I don't want to move him too much in case he did," I said slowly. "We need to get everyone inside and have Hershel tend to their wounds. Have you seen Merle?"
"He went through the fence when the bomb went off. Might be hot on the Governor's tail?" he suggested.
"Let's hope," I muttered darkly. Right then, I needed Merle with us, not off chasing after the man that caused all this. "There should be a piece of drywall in the hallway still. If it seems sturdy enough, bring it out here. We'll use it as a stretcher for Daryl," I motioned.
"What about Rick?" he asked, shooting a look at our leader.
"He'll live," I said somewhat bitterly. "Daryl needs to get inside before Rick does. 'Sides, we're down how many right now? Everyone has to bear the weight," I added. My voice came out strained and harsh. Glenn's expression shifted slightly, but he nodded. He ran towards the prison, gingerly stepping over the fallen bodies.
I glanced at Daryl before going over to Rick, my heart racing in my chest. Before Woodbury, back when I had a small group of my own, I was the unspoken leader. I knew how to get through the thick of it without losing anyone. I could do this. I could take charge and keep these people alive. I knelt in front of Rick, my hand on his cheek. He was pale, his eyes lifeless, though the spark returned momentarily when he felt my hand on his skin.
"Rick, can you walk?" I asked him softly. He nodded his head and grabbed onto my shoulder for support. I helped him to his feet and slowly led him to the bus. Better to keep both of them together for now.
"H-how bad i-is he?" he stammered. Each word was a struggle for him.
"I don't know," I said truthfully. "We'll know more as soon as we can get him inside."
"Harleigh," Michonne called, her eyes widening at whatever had caught her attention.
"Huh?" I called, letting go of Rick as soon as he could brace himself against the bus. I joined her and followed her gaze.
"One of ours?" I asked her, seeing the man hobbling towards the gate.
"Merle maybe?" she suggested. "But who's he got with him?"
I squinted, my heart dropping. "Martinez," I whispered. Martinez wasn't the worst person in Woodbury by any means. But he was no saint. He had been the source of plenty of my less than pleasant memories of the place. But he was also a kind man, under all the tough attitude and brave exterior. I'd seen him at his weakest once, and it was enough to make me like the man, if only just a little.
"The Governor's pet?" Michonne snorted.
"You could say that. Stay here," I told her as I jogged off to meet them at the gate. Walkers swarmed as they normally did, but I took little notice. Merle was struggling to keep the Hispanic man upright, so I pushed through the walkers, ignoring their snapping jaws and grabbing hands. When I reached the pair, I tugged Martinez's arm over my shoulder, providing a little extra help for Merle, who looked exhausted.
"Fill me in," I breathed. Merle looked at me, then at the bus.
"Leave no 'un behind. Wasn't that your motto?" he grumbled. I smiled inwardly at that. So Merle had been listening all those months ago.
A/n - Since Merle and Martinez are both dead in the actual series, I decided that means they're fair game and I get to play with them for a while. :P This chapter serves more as a filler, since my first copy of it was deleted when my computer crashed. Hopefully I can square away the next chapter tomorrow. If not, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Don't forget to review! I love knowing what y'all think!