Hey you! Thanks for all the reviews on the latest chapter! =) I think I'm gonna post about 5-10 more chapters and then I might be done.
Just an assumption, no guarantee! But there won't be -too- many chapters after that.
Please note: I'm a media engineering student, not a med student or doctor. I don't know shit about cells and immunity and what not :D
setting: episodes 13 "Arrow In The Doorpost" and 15 "This Sorrowful Life"
Damnation
Chapter 51 - Augusta
Daryl and Milton were walking a bit further away from the other man from Woodbury and Herschel, simply because the hunter thought it was none of their business. They were heading for one of the houses that were close by, and while Daryl kept his crossbow within reach in case either Milton or some walkers did something funny, the man with the glasses was busy turning pages in his notepad.
"So, start talking then, four eyes" Daryl muttered and tried to have a look inside the notepad, but truth was he didn't understand shit anyway.
"How is your friend right now?" Milton asked and looked up. Daryl shrugged.
"Alright, I guess. Maybe bit sick, but been a whole lot worse last time he got bit."
"What kind of symptoms is he showing?" the other man went on as he started scribbling in his notepad.
The hunter growled and glared at the man.
"How the hell 'm I supposed t'know? Look like a doctor to you?" he snapped and then shook his head.
"I don't know. He passed out two days ago. Bit paler, I guess. And his shoulder's all angry and fucked up. But the guy can still talk, walk and yell 'bout, so he's doin just fine" the younger Dixon kept reassuring Milton, although truth was that he kept telling himself that rather than the other man. He was worried ever since Connor had passed out, and it made him even more nervous considering how the Irishman hadn't really slept for the past couple of days and how he was back at the prison without Daryl watching his ass right now.
"It can still lead to a serious Septicemia. You need doctors to treat this sort of infection. It can still kill him" Milton said, and that didn't exactly make the feeling in Daryl's gut go away.
He snorted and shrugged nervously.
"Didn't kill him last time, ain't gonna kill him this time. Been too long now anyway. Gonna be fine and that's it."
Milton suddenly stopped walking and looked at Daryl.
"No. You need to understand. Your friend has very special blood. And you shouldn't take that or his life for granted. He needs medical assistance, he needs to be taken to a laboratory, to specialists. Last time they found someone with this sort of immunity has been two weeks after the initial outbreak. And that was in San Francisco. And now I have found some remarkable things in your friend's blood, but I've got neither the equipment nor the knowledge to do much with it."
Daryl stopped walking as well and looked at the man with an angry frown.
"Ain't much use without people anyway, is it? What do you want me t'do 'bout it? Go and buy yah a lego medical brickset over at Wallmart instead?"
"No, I'm talking about a collaboration here. As soon as your leader and Phillip sort things out Woodbury could arrange an escort team. There's a temporary medical research center in Augusta. Next to the CDC they've come furthest with their research on the infection. This is our chance to find a cure. I tested your friend's blood on a couple of samples with..."
Daryl let out a loud and angry chuckle and shook his head.
"An escort team? Last time we met yah people you tortured four of us and killed another two. And now yah want us to work together? Sorry, but the leprechaun ain't for sale. And neither is he some sorta lab monkey for y'all quacks. Should feel lucky I ain't gonna put an arrow between your eyes for what yah did to him last time."
Milton pressed his lips together and held on to his notepad. He then approached Daryl, despite the hunters obvious discomfort and readiness to shoot him should he come any closer. He opened his notepad and showed the younger Dixon some notes and drawings.
"Just look at this. This is the unknown virus. Or bacteria, or microbe. We still don't know what it is exactly. But whatever it is. Look at it.
See the sharp spikes and their characteristic shape?"
Daryl took a closer look at the scribblings with a confused frown. The thing Milton had drawn what looked like one of those Christmas stars or a snowflake.
"This is the thing that makes all the dead walk?"
Milton nodded.
"Yes. There's two types of infections going on in our bodies when the undead attack us. There's the one that we all already carry, the new one that is dormant and that will make us walk and attack after we die. Then there's the other infection, it resembles Septicemia. When they bite you, there's over 500 different sorts of bacteria entering the wound. Those that are in their mouth, between their teeth. That sort of infection kills you. That brings the fever, the shock, the heart attacks, the nausea. And when we're dying this..."
He pointed at his sketch again.
"...enters the brain. It takes over, it replicates, it causes the brain to.."
"Yeah yeah, skip all that talk. Already heard that and I ain't gonna understand shit anyway. So why don't it kill him?" Daryl growled and Milton turned the page.
"This is what I found in your friend's blood" he explained and showed the hunter another sketch of the same thing he had seen on the previous page, but this time there were a whole bunch of strange Y's and T's all around it.
"Those are antibodies and t-killer cells."
Daryl frowned even more.
"Don't everyone got things like those? Heard 'bout that before."
Milton nodded.
"Yes. They're part of our immune system, but these ones here are very special. Because they actually fit the virus or whatever it is, and that perfectly. They've got a very special structure that makes them compatible with it. They neutralize it and make it impossible for the disease to spread, expand and replicate inside the brain."
Daryl started chewing on his lower lip as he stared at Milton's scribblings. It was kind of complicated, but he actually understood what the man was aiming at.
"So that stuff inside him's like a natural hand brake or something? It makes that like... stop? But why's he gotta have it and no one else? What 'bout all the others? I mean he's human just like us, right?"
Milton adjusted his glasses and scratched his nose with his pen.
"Yes, but there are many reasons and factors why he could have developed this sort of antibodies. He could've been infected with something similar to this infection, just a slight scratch could've made his body fight something similar, or it could just be a natural immunity to it. No matter what it is, he's got something inside him that stops the whole process. Or... or slows it down, but we've definitively got something here. I mean actual unintended field tests confirm that. He got bitten twice and he is still alive. He has got a strong immune system and a far higher amount of t-killer cells to fight the infection that normally kills people, and his body neutralizes the virus or bacteria that invade the brain completely."
Daryl started shifting from his left leg to his right because he was suddenly incredibly nervous. It was too much information at once and he had a hard time keeping up with the whole scientific talk, but he believed to understand some of it. And right now he actually regretted not having Connor with him, not only because it was all about his friend but also because he was pretty sure that the blonde was a whole lot smarter than him, and that he could actually understand what was being explained right now.
"So yah basically sayin that he's got stuff in him that'll keep people from dyin after they got bit and that will stop those dead freaks and make them normal again?"
Milton shook his head and closed his notepad with a sigh.
"Unfortunately not. I don't think we'll be able to produce enough substance to neutralize the infection inside the walkers' brains. And even if we did, they would just drop dead. They're dead people, with or without the infection. But yes, you could be right about the finding a drug that might stop the Septicemia in the first place. Like a new sort of antibiotics for people with bites. And maybe we could use it to vaccinate people and that when they die they will stay dead rather than come back to life. Meaning there could be no new walkers in the future."
Daryl just stared at the man. Of course it could be some good news, but he was still sceptical and somehow couldn't believe it. There couldn't be a cure to all this. Not now. Not after one year of all that chaos. Not with all the order gone to shit. It was so incredibly stupid to be thinking that things COULD get better some day. He was too used to their new world by now. And there just HAD to be a downside to this.
"But that stuff's still inside him?"
Milton nodded.
"Yes. And it will be for a while. It takes his body some time to get rid of the virus and clean..house so to say."
Daryl bit his lip and sighed.
"Would that also explain why they ain't attacking him? Cos their stuff is inside him? And they attacked him after a couple of months cos the virus got destroyed after a while?"
Milton shrugged.
"I don't really understand the walkers and their behavior yet. But it could be. And I know one thing for sure, the virus might be neutralized and he might never turn, but the other bacteria in his bite wound can still kill him" he said and suddenly leaned further in to look Daryl right in the eye.
"You need to make sure he gets through this infection. You need to make sure he stays alive. This is our only hope" Milton said and looked over Daryl's shoulder to see how the others were doing. Rick and the Governor were obviously still talking, and the other member of the Woodbury gang and Herschel were just standing by their cars.
"I know Phillip, but I don't know your people. Should all things go south then leave. Leave this prison. Leave your group and Woodbury behind. Phillip isn't after you or your friend. He's after that prison, your leader. Michonne. And he's going to attack and follow you everywhere if they don't come to terms today. If they declare war: then take your friend and leave. Go as far away from here as possible. Stay safe and get him to Augusta. This could be our last chance to safe what's left of humanity."
Connor and Merle were walking down an empty road through a small village close to their prison. They had not taken a car since this would have been too loud and too obvious. They didn't want anyone to know that they had snuck out of the prison, which was why they had used the hole in the wall on the other side of the facility to get away. It was very strange for the both of them to be working together, and especially Connor couldn't believe it.
"Can't believe ye fuckin scumbag actually let me outta there" the Irishman muttered and lit a cigarette. Merle chuckled and kept walking.
"Figured that'd be the only way t'lose you pansy on the road without all those retards back at the prison growing suspicious. Tell 'em it was walkers when they attacked us."
Connor snorted and took a long drag on his cigarette.
"Aye, except that people won't believe ye cos walkers don't go after me, smartass."
Merle kept chuckling to himself and shook his head. They didn't talk for a while until the redneck broke the silence again.
"So it's all true 'bout the bites and the immunity. Yah really are some sorta special snowflake."
Connor grabbed his cigarette with his healthy hand and shrugged.
"Looks like it" he muttered as he blew out some smoke.
"Yah know that's the only reason they care 'boutcha? Including Daryl? Hell, they're just keeping yah around for that just like they're keepin me and my brother around t'do their dirty work."
The Irishman snorted and looked at the older Dixon with a sceptical frown.
"And yer think that kinda low selfesteem and brainwashing bullshit's gonna work on me? Sorry, buddy. I think I know those people and yer brother better than you by now. If there's one person people use fer their perposes and on who they all look down and treat like te piece of shit that he is, then it's gotta be you."
Merle glared at the blonde.
"Don'tcha dare saying yah know my baby brother better than me, leprechaun. Or I might actually kill yah and make it look like an accident."
Connor chuckled and kept walking.
"I think we both know that they're gonna blame ye fer it no matter if it's an accident or not. Especially Daryl will blame ye, considering he knows best how much we hate each other, don't ye think?"
Merle was unusually quiet after that. Connor had been looking forward to a fight with the man now that they were not being watched or held back. He also knew that he couldn't just kill Merle either because Daryl would hate him just as much. Anyway, he kind of felt like giving the older Dixon a proper, proper beating to punish him for everything he had done wrong with Daryl, now that no one was looking, but he figured that he needed the man alive to make his plan with the Governor work. So instead of actually fighting him with fists Connor just kept using psychological warfare.
"And ye also know that Daryl just cares about ye cos yer blood, aye? He told me all sortsa things. He kept repeating that yer his brother but there were all sortsa "but"s going on after that. He said that he always thought yer a piece'a shit. And that he was getting tired of all te shit ye did wrong with yer life, all the drugs and everything. He even compared ye to yer father."
Much to Connor's surprise Merle actually kept his cool and even started chuckling.
"Oh and did sweet Darylena tell yah about all the things she did wrong? He tell yah that he was just as high on shrooms and shit for a whole buncha years? Did he tell yah about how we wanted t'rob your dear friend Rick's camp blind before they cuffed me t'that rooftop and dragged him with 'em? Bet he didn't tell yah about not so sweet Daryl."
Connor kicked a stone and rubbed his aching shoulder with a shrug.
"Ever notice how he completely changed and became someone better ever since ye piece'a shit stopped having an influence on him and I came inta his life? Face it, yer the one people don't care about and never will. Me? They're all gonna come looking fer me sooner or later. And I already saw 'em mourn when they thought I was dead. Do ye think they're gonna do the same when ye die? I don't think so. Glenn, Maggie, Rick. They're all gonna cheer as soon as they find out yer dead. And do ye know what Daryl told me tha night I got bit? He said that I'm the brother he's always wanted t'have instead of you."
Breathy laughter escaped Merle's mouth and he stopped walking.
"Y'know, yah think y'know everything about me, 'bout Daryl. And yah think you're the shit, huh? Uber-bro, Darylena's knight in shining armour" he raised his voice and Connor stopped walking to look at the man behind him, and once again there was nothing but disgust written all over his face. Merle raised both his arms and glared at the Irishman.
"And here I am now. Ain't I? I might've done some shit in my life, and I sure ain't proud of that, but if there's one thing 'm proud of, then it's gotta be the fact that without me little D wouldn't even be here, y'know that? Huh? He tell you 'bout those fags back in school that I beat the shit out of when they shoved his head into the crapper every day? He tell you 'bout Atlanta? The stadium when shit hit the fan? The chopper? Kid would've went down with it that night if I hadn't told him t'get his ass outta there. I beat up and tortured a shitton of people in my life, and killed 16 men since all this went down. Living men. But my brother ain't ever gonna be one of them. Can yah say the same thing 'bout your bro, mick?"
Connor just glared at Merle, but decided to not get into a fight over that now. It still hurt to hear people mention how he had lost Murphy and how he had let him turn and shot him himself, but he did not dare showing any sort of weakness anymore, especially not right now that he was with Merle and no one was there to stop him from killing the man for that remark. The older Dixon kept going, now that he had finally lost his cool.
"So maybe Daryl don't want me around and keeps talkin shit 'bout me behind my back like y'all do. Maybe he prefers all y'all asskissers and pussies, and maybe you mick are better for him than me, but -I'm- here for my brother, and I wanna be with my brother after I spent all winter lookin for him. Yesterday yah asked me if I would be willing t'die for Daryl. Well guess what I'm doin now, paddy. He wants to be with y'all people, and he wants to be in this prison. This little suicide mission, I'm gonna make sure it'll keep this place standing for 'im."
The older Dixon started walking again and walked past dumfounded Connor with an angry growl.
"And if I pull it off, maybe all is forgiven."