setting: episode 1 "Seed" and episode 2 "Sick"

Damnation

Chapter 9 - Imprisoned

Two days after the farm incident...

Daryl was staring down the road, eyeing the dark houses in the neighbourhood with an angry frown. It was a pretty shitty day, a weird mixture of rain and wind and sunshine. Like the weather was trying to mirror his feelings. He didn't know how many more times he could take it. Connor's freaking heart and lungs just would keep giving in. He took a drag on one of the cigarettes he had stolen from his friend, and as he stared at the cancer stick he had to think about the irony. No wonder his friend stopped breathing every now and then. If he really had been smoking since he was 14 years old, then no wonder his lungs couldn't take this sort of infection anymore.

It was so ridiculous. Really. He had chosen to stay with Connor, to look after him, to believe in him, and he was already getting sick of this. He did not want to do all this, watch him suffer and god knows what his friend was going through because of this bite. He was no doctor, he didn't know what was going on. Everything was so. weird. The hunter took another drag on the cigarette and watched one of the few walkers that were staggering down the street. He saw all the bite wounds, the blood, their ripped clothes. Connor was supposed to be one of them, as his own bite was still poisoning him, but something was stopping the infection, like the bite...Daryl stopped thinking and stared at the staggering woman when he noticed that her arm was missing. For just a moment he watched her, thinking his idea through, then he came to the conclusion that maybe this was the right thing to do, the only thing to do.

He made his way upstairs and grabbed his knife with a grunt. He knew that it would probably be easier if only he found an axe or a saw, but right now he didn't even care about that. He just wanted it to be over, wanted his friend to pull through all this crap. Daryl climbed up the ladder to the attic and looked at Connor, who was still lying on the dirty mattress, eyes closed, the bandage around his arm bloody all over again. As soon as the redneck had entered the attic he closed the hatch and just stared at the Irishman, the knife still in his hand. He needed to do this. The infection needed to be stopped, he just had to make it better before it killed his best friend.

He didn't want to be alone, and after all these months of fighting the blonde, beating him up, shoving him away, he had to realize that he needed that man. More than ever. Especially now that he would be all alone, without his group, without his brother, should Connor really die after fighting that infection for more than two days. Daryl approached the other man and clutched to his knife as if his own life depended on it. He knew that it was probably going to hurt his friend. A lot. But even that wouldn't make him stop. When he reached Connor he knelt down and grabbed the blonde's injured arm. He could see the dark and thick blood, the cross on his arm and the Veritas tattoo on his finger. The Irishman was so going to kill him for taking this arm.

Daryl sighed and placed the blade of his knife just a couple of inches underneath his friend's left elbow. And fuck, even he was having doubts now.
He started chewing on his lower lip and looked at Connor's face, but it looked like his friend was still unconscious.

He needed to do something.

"Alright. Fuck it. Sorry, brother" he muttered and was just about to start cutting when the Irishman suddenly shifted and moaned.

"What..?" he murmured and blinked a couple of times, and that made it even harder for Daryl.

He started cutting nevertheless. Just a second later the other man was wide awake and started yelling.

"Ow! Ye sick fucker!" he screamed and tried to pull his arm away, but Daryl held on to him.

"It's for the best, I'm sick of this shit!"

"No!" Connor yelled and managed to punch his friend in the face.

The hunter fell back and the Irishman grabbed his injured arm while trying to sit up.
He started coughing and moaning again, but that wouldn't stop him from sitting upright and staring at his friend with wide eyes.

"What te fuck?!" he complained and held on to his left arm, where only a small cut could be seen.

"Maybe that's the only way to stop it from spreading!" Daryl answered and Connor fell to the side and curled himself up.

"Are ye stupid? I'd rather die than run around like a fucking cripple!"

The men were all gathering around a table in the dinning hall to get their weapons ready. Rick and T-Dog had found and gathered many other weapons from the bodies and the cell block earlier this morning, so they even got to pick. Daryl and Connor were the only ones who stuck to their beloved weapons, they only took new flashlights.

"Not bad" T-Dog said as he observed a rifle.

"Flashbangs, CS Triple-Chasers. Not sure how they'd work on walkers but we'll take them."

Connor smirked and took one of them.

"Oh I got my ideas for these babies" he said and chuckled.

He looked up when he saw how Daryl took one of the riot helmets. It was still sticky with slime and blood and the hunter pulled a face.

"I ain't wearing this shit."

Connor snickered

"Well, it'd sure be an improvement t'yer face. I was looking forward t'not seeing it fer a while."

"Fuck you" Daryl growled and hit Connor's head with the helmet.

"Ow! Are you fucking crazy?!" the Irishman complained and boxed his friend's shoulder. He grabbed the helmet to take a look at it.

"Ah, jesus, now that shit's all over my clothes, man" he went on and tried to get rid of the slime that stuck to his jacket. Daryl snorted.

"Well, sure is an improvement."

"Ha ha, very fucking funny. That shit is disgusting" Connor murmured and wiped his fingers on Daryl's vest.

"We could boil 'em" T-Dog, who was looking at a sticky glove, suggested. Daryl looked up with a frown.

"Ain't enough firewood in the whole forest. No."

He startled and backed off when Connor tried to put the helmet on his head.

"Jesus, get off!"

The Irishman started laughing and tried once more, but when his friend boxed his stomach he let go and threw the helmet away, whilst still chuckling quietly.

Daryl grabbed one of the batons and swung it around experimentally.

"Besides, we made it this far without 'em, right?"

Connor nodded and took the other stick.

"Aye, don't need any of that shit anyway."

"Herschel?" they heard someone ask and turned around. Carol was standing there by the door, waiting for the old farmer to come with her.

"Everything alright?" Rick asked and everybody stopped talking. They knew that it was about Lori, and truth be told, Rick wasn't the only one worried. Herschel followed Carol back inside the cell section, whereas the others got their things ready. Rick was helping T-Dog in one of the bulletproof vests and Daryl was getting his crossbow ready when Carl came to join them, taking one of the helmets and putting it on his head. Connor chuckled and came closer to him to knock on the helmet. The boy grinned and put it down again.

"Would've been too cool for this anyway" he said and put it away again. Connor ruffled his hair.

"Fer what?"

"Getting the rest of the walkers" Carl said and grabbed one of the flashlights. Connor frowned and put his hand on it so Carl couldn't take it.

"Hold up buddy, who told ye that yer coming with us?"

The boy looked at his father who was still helping T-Dog. Connor turned around and looked at Rick. The Irishman snorted when he wouldn't say anything.

"There's no way we're taking the kid with us."

"I'm not a kid anymore! I want to help. I always help" Carl countered and Connor snorted. The kid managed to take the flashlight anyway.

"There's a shitload af walkers in those tunnels, we don't know if there's walls down or anything, the whole mission itself is pretty fucking insane. Even I'm nervous, and they don't even attack me. There's no way we're taking a kid with us" the Irishman said and wouldn't stop looking at Rick.

Daryl, who was finished with his crossbow, came closer and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, knock it off man. Let 'im" he murmured but his friend shook him off.

Rick eyed Connor and Carl a little while longer, then he moved forward and took his son's flashlight.

"You won't need that. I need you to stay put."

Carl snorted and looked at him in disbelief.

"You're kidding."

"We don't know what's in there. Something goes wrong, you could be the last man standing. I need you to handle things here."

Carl eyed his father for a while, then he narrowed his eyes at Connor. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Sure" he murmured and nodded. He didn't seem too pleased, but he gave in nevertheless. His father nodded and handed him his set of keys.

"Great. Let's go."

Once again there was nothing but darkness surrounding them as they made their way through the dark corridors of the prison. Not everyone had a flashlight, only Rick, T-Dog, Herschel and Daryl. The former policeman would always go first, the others were right behind him. The corridors were narrow and filthy, and Connor bumped into Daryl and Herschel more than once. The old farmer was another story. The Irishman didn't even know why Rick had insisted that Herschel should come with them. That was how their leader worked now: including children and old people. It made the Irishman shake his head once again, and most certainly not for the last time.

"Fucking ridiculous. So many people. Should've let me handle things on my own just like yesterday" Connor hissed and Daryl hushed him.

"Shut up. Don't be ridiculous."

"It ain't ridiculous, I.."

Rick hushed them and Connor fell quiet, while eyeing their leader's back angrily. When they walked around the corner they could see half eaten and rotting bodies on the ground and the smell was getting worse and worse again. The Irishman turned around when he heard how Glenn started spraying arrows on the walls so they knew where to go in case of emergencies. Everyone started searching the cells, and Connor used the time to make his way past everyone and walked ahead to keep an eye on things up front. When he saw how Maggie got too close to one of the rotting corpses on the ground he nudged her and pointed at it.

"Eh, watch yer step. They could be walkers and bite yer foot."

He could tell that she was scared. Everyone was. Grown men or not, this was armageddon, and they were trapped in dark halls with walking corpses all around them.
Connor kept an eye on the corridor in front of them whereas the others scanned the rest of the cells.

"Anything?" he heard Rick say and turned around again.

Their leader was standing right next to him and pointed his flashlight at the dark corridors in front of them. Connor shook his head.

"It's quiet. Bit too quiet if ye ask me."

"We need to keep moving."

In just a matter of seconds the group gathered in a corner and Glenn sprayed the next arrow.
Connor could see that the corridor split in front of them, so he placed a hand on Rick's chest and grabbed his flashlight.

"Let me check it out first. 's safer fer me" he whispered and started walking.

"Are yah crazy? What did I.." Daryl protested behind them, but Rick hushed him.

The hunter watched his friend leave, and he was quite shocked that once again Connor did not seem to care about the talk they'd just had the day before. Even months before. The Irishman just kept walking. He couldn't see any walkers in any of the cells to his left and right, and now that they had almost made it to the end of this section he already doubted that there were any walkers left. Maybe they really had managed to kill most of them yesterday. A gentle thud to his left made him stop. After a couple of seconds he could hear it again. Connor frowned and undid the safety of his Beretta, then he started walking again. There was another corner right in front of him, and the closer he got the more clearly he could hear the strange thud, as if someone was banging on a door. When he finally reached the corner and pointed his flashlight to his left he startled and let out a surprised gasp. The light of his flashlight was now illuminating about a dozen rotten and bloody grimaces right in front of him. Some walkers had gathered around a door and turned around to look at him, obviously attracted by the light. Connor swallowed and walked backwards.

"Fellas" he greeted them and nodded, and when they started following him it made him feel uncomfortable. Yesterday had been different, because none of the walkers he had killed had been looking at him like that. None of them had shown any interest in him. But those walkers were different. They were all growling and glaring at the flashlight in Connor's hand and kept staggering after him. He pointed his gun at them but wouldn't pull the trigger, knowing that it would be way too loud because the corridor was too small, and he didn't want to attract any more walkers. For a moment he considered running right at them, so he could stab and attack them right away. It still didn't look like they were really interested in eating him, but they were a little too interested in him in general, which was why Connor was so hesitant this time. He couldn't stop thinking about what Daryl had said, that he shouldn't rely on any of that at all. He didn't want to get bitten again, which was why he made his way back instead. He knew that they wouldn't stand a chance in such a tight space, they needed to draw them out in the open so they were easier targets and no one got hurt. The Irishman cursed and started running back. Half way down the corridor he saw that the group was coming.

"Walkers!" he whisper-shouted, hoping not to attract the walkers any more.

They others widened their eyes in surprise, then they could see the undead who were still following Connor and who couldn't keep their eyes off the moving light.

"Go back! Go back! Move!" Rick shouted and urged the group to run back to the exits.

The noise they were making made it even worse. Connor could hear how the walkers behind him got angry, now that they were obviously facing something which they considered food. He could hear how they started walking faster. Everyone but Daryl started running back, and soon the whole group disappeared behind a corner.

"Move faster!" Daryl shouted as he waited for his friend to get back as well. He was pointing his crossbow at the walkers behind him, and when one of them got too close to the Irishman for his liking he shot an arrow right at them. Connor jumped to the right, trying to avoid the arrow. "Are ye trying t'fucking kill me?!" he yelled back and froze when he saw a door right next to him. His mind was racing for a moment, thinking about a thousand possibilities. Before he knew what he was doing he grabbed the door handle.

"What the fuck are yah doing?!" he could hear Daryl yell, but a second later he disappeared behind the door, leaving Daryl alone in the hallway.

"Connor, where the fuck are yah going! This isn't the way out you dumbass!" the hunter shouted and tried to get to the door, but the walkers were already passing it, approaching him with angry growls and snarls. "Leprechaun!" he yelled and turned around when he could hear how Rick called his name on the other side of the hallway. "Jesus!" he growled and finally ran after the group as well, praying to god that the walkers were still uninterested in his friend.

Connor could hear them walking on the other side of the door, how they were going after his group. He put his Beretta in his leg holster and grabbed his knife instead, hoping that his plan would work out the way he wanted it to. He had run inside the room and closed the door to give the walkers a chance to make their way past him, so he could go after them as soon as they had turned their backs on him. He didn't like running away from them, no matter how immune he seemed to be, running after them was more for his liking. The Irishman took a deep breath and pressed his ear against the door just to make sure that no walkers were staggering around in front of it, then he opened it slowly and carefully.

He could see how a couple of figures in prison clothing were just about to disappear around the corner and went after them, trying not to attract too much attention to himself. He could see that the herd had somewhat multiplied by now, and even for him it would be impossible to take them out in these dark halls. When the last walker reached the corner he lunged at him and grabbed him by his neck, then he stabbed the back of his head with a grunt. Some of the walkers in front of him turned around, attracted by the noise, but they just gave him a growl and turned around when they could hear an agonizing scream down the hallway. Connor dropped the walker he had just killed and looked up in surprise. He could hear even more excited screaming and muttering down the hall, and the herd of walkers was heading right for it.

"Shit!" the Irishman panted and turned his head to see if there was another way apart from the one the walkers were blocking. He could see another path to his right, so he cursed once more and started running, ignoring his master plan to kill all the walkers on his own. He just knew that the scream had sounded like someone getting bitten, because such a noise had once escaped his own mouth. Connor followed the labyrinth of corridors, hearing the never-ending screams until he finally found the group again. They were all screaming and yelling at each other, and when he finally came to a halt right next to Daryl he saw who had been screaming like that. Herschel was lying on the ground in front of him, and Maggie, Glenn and Rick were looking at his leg. Connor could see a walker to their left with a fresh bullet wound. He let out a surprised gasp when Daryl shoved him hard.

"Yah done hiding in a closet, yah fucking moron?"

Connor shoved him back but ignored his outburst, he just glared at Maggie and Herschel in horror.

"I told ye t'watch yer fucking feet!"

They all froze when they saw how the herd of prison walkers turned the corner and started staggering in their direction with angry growls.
Connor looked up and grabbed his knife.

"Oh jesus, get 'im outta here! I'll hold them off!" he yelled and started walking in their direction, but Daryl placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

"Don't run full frontal on them, dumbass. I got it covered" he said and pointed his crossbow at the walkers.

Connor snorted and put his knife away to grab his guns instead.

"Ye can't do shit with a bunch of feathery pointy sticks. I got it covered. "

They could hear how Rick and Glenn tried to get Herschel back on his feet, and after a couple of seconds they could hear T-Dog and Maggie screaming.

"Back! We're blocked!"

Connor and Daryl turned their heads to see what was going on behind them. They could see even more walkers on the other side of the corridor.

"Shit, if we keep going like this they're gonna surround us!" Connor said and made his way to the rest of the group, trying to help them with Herschel.

"Get back! Get back! This way!" Rick yelled when he saw another corridor to their left.

"Get him outta here!" Connor yelled and stayed behind them with Daryl to keep the walkers away. The undead prisoners kept following.

The Irishman suddenly darted forward to stab some of them, but when they started to grab him he staggered backwards again.

"Shit! It's too many of them!"

"Let's leave!" Daryl shouted and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket.

They ran after the group, with the walkers still following them. They were getting closer and closer, and there was so much screaming and growling going on that everyone was starting to panic. The group reached the end of the corridor where a door was blocking their way. "Get it open!" Rick, who was holding a wailing Herschel, yelled and tried to kick the door open. Connor and Daryl were still watching their backs, and the walkers were only about five meters away from them.

"Hurry!" Daryl yelled and turned around to see what was taking them so long.

He grunted when Connor suddenly shoved him further back and placed himself in front of him.

"Help them! I got it covered!" he yelled and started shooting the walkers.

"Got it!" T-Dog yelled as the doors swung open and everyone hurried inside. Connor was the last to sprint inside, and as soon as he entered the room T-Dog slammed the door shut behind him. A few seconds later it started shaking violently and the walkers started banging on the doors. Both T-Dog and Connor pressed their backs against it to keep it closed. Herschel was still screaming and wriggling in agony on the floor, and the rest of the group tried to keep him steady so they could take a proper look at his leg. Another violent bang on the door almost made Connor stumble, but he managed to keep the door shut.

"Fuck me...Hurry fer christ's sakes!" he yelled and looked at the group. Daryl suddenly looked up and made his way back to them, grabbing a prybar from his quiver. He shoved the Irishman away and put it between the door handles to keep the door locked. Connor patted his shoulder and nodded, then he ran for the rest of the group to get a better look at Herschel's leg. He could see a big bloody wound where his Achilles tendon had used to be, and it was bleeding heavily. Glenn was getting back to them with a bunch of towels he had found and Rick pulled the leg of Herschel's pants up.

"Ye gotta keep it from spreading. Otherwise it'll kill him! It doesn't spread too fast, it's creepin it's way up his blood circulation t'his brain. Ye gotta stop it!" Connor yelled and got rid of his belt. He remembered it all too clearly, what it had felt like when he had been bit. How the virus had crept its way up his arm, thick, burning, slowly, painfully. He had been in pure agony, and judging from Herschel's screams the old man didn't feel anything different. The Irishman knelt down next to him and wrapped his belt around the man's thigh. Herschel wouldn't stop wailing.

"Hold him down" Rick suddenly demanded and Connor strapped the belt even tighter around the man's leg.

"I'm trying!"

"There's only one way to keep him alive" the policeman went on and grabbed his hatchet. Connor widened his eyes.

"What te fuck are ye..."

Rick struck down determinedly and started to cut Herschel's leg off. They could feel how the old man was trying to get away from him, pushing and fighting and screaming even more. When the former policeman wouldn't stop hacking up the man's leg Connor could no longer look at it. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something else, but he could still hear the disgusting banging and smacking right next to him. Some of the blood even bespattered his clothes, and he tried his hardest not to retch. Herschel suddenly stopped moving and passed out. After another three strikes Rick finally managed to cut his leg off and fell back down, looking at the blood on his hands and the amputated leg. "Hoh.." he gasped and threw the hatchet away, then he knelt back down next to Herschel.

"He's bleeding out" he observed and Connor grabbed the towels from Glenn, who was holding on to Maggie and stared at the bloody mess in absolute horror.

"No shit! We gotta stop the bleeding. When I said we gotta keep it from spreading I didn't fucking mean that we gotta mutilate him!"

Daryl, who had been with them the whole time and had tried to keep Herschel on the ground, suddenly moved next to them. "Duck" he whispered, a second later they could hear something moving to their left. For a second Daryl and Connor looked at each other, then they both grabbed their weapons and got up to take aim at whatever was watching them on the other side of the cafeteria. They could see five figures standing behind the counter, with baseball bats, knives and guns pointed at them.

"Holy shit!" said one of the prisoners, who had a beard and shoulder long blonde hair.

"Who the hell are you?!" Daryl asked and approached them slowly. Connor did the same, both his guns pointed at two of them.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them asked back.

"You don't fucking talk, we asked ye first" Connor growled and pointed his gun at the man who had spoken.

"He's bleeding out, we gotta go back!" they heard Rick shout behind them.

Neither Connor nor Daryl would turn around. They kept their eyes fixed on the prisoners.

"Why don't you come on out there? Slow and steady" Daryl ordered and Connor nodded.

"Aye, one wrong move and yer dead."

The other survivors did as they were told, making their way out of the back of the cafeteria.
The Latino and a slim African-American were the first to come out, and especially the latter reacted. He was staring straight at Connor.

"Woah, hold on. I know you."

Daryl frowned and looked at his friend for a moment.

"What are you prattlin about?" the Latino asked and the other man pointed at Connor.

"Yeah, just look, Tomas! It's those guys! Those guys who were all over the news! Those freaks who shot those gangsters, the ones who managed t'get outta the slammer just before this shit started!"

Connor moved closer with an angry frown.

"Aye, and it's gonna be you next if ye don't put those fuckin knives away."

"Take it easy, man. This ain't the time for your saint bullshit" Daryl hissed but Connor ignored him.

"What happened to him?" the Latino, who's name was apparently Tomas, asked and pointed at unconscious Herschel.

"He got bit" Daryl answered and the whole group reacted.

"Bit?" the man opposite them asked and drew his gun. The other members of his group grabbed their weapons as well.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Easy now!" Daryl said and backed off a bit.

"Drop te fuckin gun or I swear 'm gonna blow yer scumbag brain out right here 'n now" Connor growled and pointed both his guns at Tomas.

T-Dog let got of the door and came to join them with his gun.

"Nobody needs to get hurt" Daryl went on and tried to get closer again.

"Only ones that are getting hurt here t'day are those fuckin lowlives" Connor murmured and Tomas pointed his gun right at the Irishman.

Glenn suddenly made his way right through them and headed for the kitchen.

"Do you have any medical supplies?"

"Woah, were do you think you're going?" the bigger African-American asked, but Glenn ignored them.

They all startled when the doors behind T-Dog started shaking again and the growling on the other side got louder.

"Who the hell are you people anyway, apart from this crackpot over there?" Tomas asked and eyed Connor once more.

"What did ye fuckin call me?" the Irishman asked and tried to get closer to the man, but Daryl shoved him back.

"I said take it easy, dumbass."

"You don't look like no rescue team" the blonde prisoner with the beard observed.

"If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't" Rick, who was busy trying to get Herschel up, yelled from behind them. Connor snorted.

"No one'd come and rescue any prison scumbags anyway."

Tomas pointed his gun at him again.

"You got a problem, buddy?"

The Irishman snorted and gave him a death glare.

"Yeah, how about te fact that yer still breathing, fuckface?"

Daryl kicked his friend's thigh angrily.

"Knock it off with yer bullshit now!" he hissed and Connor glared at him, but couldn't answer because Rick started talking again.

"Come on, we gotta go!"

Daryl and T-Dog turned around to see what was going on behind them.
Maggie and Rick were trying to lift Herschel up whereas Glenn came out of the kitchen with a trolley-table. Connor and Tomas wouldn't stop glaring at each other.

"Now! Come on! I need a hand here!"

Glenn and Rick placed the old man on the trolley and started moving it towards the door.

"Holy jesus!" the prisoner with the beard exclaimed when he saw Herschel's mutilated leg and turned away in horror, which made Connor frown. He had not expected a prisoner to react so anxious because of some blood. The blonde guy was about the only one of the group of inmates who reacted that way, the others didn't seem to be bothered at all.

"T! The door!" Rick yelled.

"Are you crazy?! Don't open that!" the slim African-American yelled and tried to stop them, but Connor placed himself right in front of him and pointed his gun at his head.

"One fucking move" he growled and waited for his group to make their way to the door.

T-Dog got rid of the prybar which had been blocking the door. It opened with another bang and walkers started getting in.

"We got this!" he yelled and started bashing their brains in.

"Connor! Daryl!" Rick yelled and the hunter turned around to see what was going on. The rest of the group was making their way out of the cafeteria.

"Come on, let's go" Daryl murmured and placed a hand on Connor's shoulder as he tried to pull his friend back.

"We can't just leave those fuckin bastards in here" the Irishman hissed and wouldn't stop looking at the prisoners.

"Knock it off! We need to get Herschel out of here!" Daryl hissed back and his friend looked at him.

"We don't know shit about these scumbags, they weren't locked up in here fer fuckin nothing! I think I should stay back, keep an eye on 'em."

"Are yah insane? Just so yah can do any of yer psycho crap and kill 'em? Don't be stupid, they'd just mob you! We fucking need yah out there, we'll take care of them later!" Daryl went on and grabbed Connor again, and this time he managed to get him out of the cafeteria.