"Okay, okay," I muttered to myself and leaned Merle against the railing of the fire escape.
"Merle, look at me," I took his face in my hands and his gaze steadied on mine. "We have to climb down a ladder. I can't carry you down it so you're going to have to do it yourself. I'll go down first and keep the walkers off. I'll try to catch you if you fall," I paused and took a deep breath. "Don't fall," There was a pretty good chance he'd break an ankle if he fell.
Merle nodded weakly. I could tell he was trying to stand on his own and steady himself. The pain had him pretty far gone.
I climbed down the ladder as quickly as possible, my foot slipping on the last rung and scared the living hell out of me. I dropped down to the alley below and quickly caught my footing. The landing killed the soles of my feet.
"Okay, come down," I called up to Merle. So far there were no walkers in sight, but I could hear them. I reached back for the hammer sticking out of the top of my backpack. I wasn't confident I could cave in the skull of one of those things. I didn't even want to get close enough to hit it. However, I didn't have much of a choice if I wanted to live.
Every time Merle's feet slipped on the way down the ladder I had a mini heart attack. Me catching him would no doubt be more like him just falling onto me. Sure, I'd break his fall, but one of us, if not both, were going to be hurt regardless. The last thing we needed was a cracked skull or broken leg.
He stumbled when he hit the ground and I wrapped my arms around him, keeping him steady. Stupidly, I hadn't really thought further than this. I knew if we went right we'd be in the main street, which was still full of walkers. So, I dragged Merle left, down the alley. Upon spotting a door, he shoved himself away from me. I was surprised at how quickly he moved towards it.
To our luck, the door was open. I followed closely behind Merle, who was stumbling all over the place, held up mostly by walls. I didn't know where he was going, but he seemed to have some sort of plan.
My heart plummeted when we entered a room where two walkers were wandering around. Considering we were making so much noise they set their sights on us immediately. My fingers tightened around the hammer I held, but I didn't even have a chance to act.
Merle pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket and went to town. It only took a few seconds for him to take out both walkers. I didn't know where this second wind of his came from, but I was damn lucky it blew in.
I followed Merle into the next room, which was a kitchen of some sort. I pulled the door closed, feeling relieved to have some barrier between me and those things. I heard drawers being thrown open behind me and turned to see three cans of Sterno sitting on the stove top. It didn't take long to realize what was about to happen.
This time I didn't look while Merle mutilated himself. Before he had even cauterized the whole wound I was doubled over, puking in the corner. Not much came out. It was mostly just viscous water and stomach acid. When I was done dry heaving there was nothing I wanted more than to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week.
After a minute or two of deep breathing and lowering my heart rate I returned my attention to Merle, who was sitting against the wall below a window. I crouched in front of him and removed my backpack, letting it flop heavily on the tile floor. I fished out a bottle of water, uncapped it, and pushed it towards Merle. He took it and drank heavily. Whatever he would have left for me ran down the corners of his mouth and down his chest.
It dawned on me then that I hadn't consumed a single thing in a pretty long time. I found a power bar in my backpack and broke it in half, offering some to Merle. That power bar tasted like the best thing I'd ever eaten. Forget creamy chocolate cheesecake and pasta drowned in cheese and marinara. That stale power bar was my ambrosia.