THANK YOU abitoflightreading, Jacqb14, AnimeZombieLover & Justme2000 for the reviews that have come in since the last update! I'm so happy you enjoy the story as much as I like writing it.
Also thank you to anr017. It's funny that you are mentioning my leaving out Catrina Island. I've had a whole internal argument whether or not I should include it, but eventually opted for leaving it out because I felt there was no way I include it in an interesting way that wasn't just retelling what happened in the show, which I felt would be boring. I'm trying to swerve from the original story enough to keep the story interesting and make Charlize & Haley characters which are logical additions without distorting the big picture of FTWD. So it's all just a struggle of 'how do I tell their story without just plainly retelling seasons 1-3?'
Anyway, how good was the season 3 mid-season finale? I'm definitely enjoying where the writers are taking the show. And what is everyone thinking of Nick's new haircut? I don't know what to make of it yet, I was getting really into the slick, pushed-back mafia-boss hairstyle. Don't judge me.
Enough talking now, enjoy the new chapter!
He slowly walked down the hallway, his eyes not focusing on the way, his feet taking him further automatically, as if he was on auto-pilot. He held out his hands in front of his torso awkwardly, not knowing what else to do with them. When he reached the door leading to the bathroom, he opened it carefully and absentmindedly walked in, leaving a red mark on the handle. When he was inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He felt like he was in a bad dream. The events of the last two hours played in his mind vividly, yet he could not grasp their reality, somehow it wasn't sinking in, like he was in a video game, or dreaming lucidly. They kept replaying, and replaying, and he was not able to stop it. The abductors taking Alicia, shots, screaming, the hot blade, and blood; so much blood. He bend over and started rubbing his temples with the inner part of his wrists, and made a noise that was more than a groan but less than a scream, a noise that a wounded animal might make.
Eventually, he took two tentative steps ahead, standing in front of the mirror. For a moment, Nick simply stood there, staring at his reflection. His hands were completely covered in blood, and splatters of it went up his forearms. There was blood on his shirt, his pants, neck, smears on his face where he wiped away sweat with his bloody hands. He could even see traces of red in his sweaty hair. When he moved at last, he turned on the tap with steady hands and started washing the blood off, moving almost mechanically.
He had managed to wash the majority of the blood off his hands when he heard someone hurriedly running down the stairs, his eyes becoming alert for the first time since he walked downstairs himself. "Nick!" his mother shouted and he raised his head. He covered the distance to the door in two quick strides and opened it in hard, taking a hurried step into the hallway. "Mom!" Madison was hurrying down the hallway to where he was standing, her eyes wide. "Mom," Nick repeated as he started walking into her direction. When she reached him, Madison pulled him in tight, her arms around his shoulders, one of her hands resting against the back of his head. He reciprocated the gesture, burying his head between her head and her shoulder. Eyes closed, Nick allowed himself for the first time to let the reality of the situation sink in. For a moment, his breath hitched. In his mother's arms, he finally managed to let go of the pressure. "Oh baby," Madison said. "I shouldn't have left." Nick pulled away and nodded silently. Madison kept her hands on him, her fingers inspecting the blood on his arms, his face.
"I took it out," Nick said, and Madison looked up to make eye contact. "The bullet. I took it out."
Charlize was still standing at the corner, frozen in shock. "Charlie," Nick shouted as he ran over to her. When he reached her, he took her face in both of his hands, and she finally looked up at him, like she was noticing him for the first time. "Are you okay?" he asked. She looked at him with a puzzled expression, her eyes still wide in shock, as if she wasn't hearing him. Then, she moved her hand down. Nick took a step back, lowering his hands to her arms instead, afraid she wasn't steady enough to stand on her own. She slowly moved her hand to her stomach, her eyes not following the movement but staring blindly down at the floor. Only when she moved her hand up again did she look, and when Nick saw the blood, his heart dropped. "No, no, no," he tightened his grip on her shoulders. Charlize opened her mouth and sucked in a sharp breath, looking up to meet his gaze, her eyes wider than before. "Oh," was all she managed to say.
Without thinking Nick moved his left arm under her shoulder and his right arm behind her legs, picking her up in one swift movement. She groaned in pain when he did. "Sorry," he whispered as he carried her to the couch, putting her down carefully. "Mom!" he shouted when he moved upright again, but it was too late. He could already see Madison and Salazar disappearing into the distance on the motorboat, looking for Strand.
"What happened?" Ofelia and Chris came up next to Nick, alerted by his tone of voice.
"She's shot," Nick said and bent down next to Charlize. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily. "Hey..hey, Charlie," he started, not knowing what to do, his mind working in overdrive. "I need you to be conscious okay? I need you to tell me what to do," he pleaded with her. He could see her swallow hard, and eventually, she opened her eyes. The initial shock seemed to be gone, her eyes were more alert, even though her pupils were still dilated.
"Put pressure on the wound," was the first thing she said in a steady voice, almost commanding. Nick nodded and looked around, but before he could do anything Ofelia already handed him her cardigan. He swallowed and leaned forward, carefully pulling up her shirt. The blood was coming from the lower abdomen. "How many?" Charlize asked.
"What?"
"How many entry wounds?"
"I can't tell - I don't..-" Nick carefully used Ofelia's cardigan to clean the blood from Charlize's stomach. "Only one," he determined.
"Good," Charlize said. When Nick looked at her he could see that her eyes were closed again. "Check for an exit wound."
Nick obliged and carefully pushed Charlize on her side. Her back was clean. "No exit wound."
For a moment, Charlize was silent. Then, she took a deep breath. "You have to take it out."
"What?" Nick said in surprise, a wave of anxiety hitting him.
"Yes," Charlize confirmed more to herself than to him. She was struggling to sit up and Ofelia was quick to support her. Charlize's hands carefully held up her shirt, and she inspected the wound. "I don't think it hit a major artery, there isn't enough blood. There is a chance that the bullet did hit an artery and is the only thing holding it shut, but the risk of infection is higher." Charlize groaned as she was lying back down. "Take it out."
"How?" Nick asked in disbelief.
"What if it hit any organs?" Ofelia added anxiously.
"Put pressure on the wound!" Charlize instructed and Nick hurriedly pressed Ofelia's cardigan back on her stomach. "There is nothing you can do if it hit an organ," Charlize said, her eyes closed again. Nick could tell that she was more nervous than she was trying to let on. "From the position of the wound I think there is a chance it only hit the abdominal muscle, if we're lucky."
"What if we're not lucky?" Chris asked the question on everyone's mind.
"There is a chance it hit my large intestine," Charlize said. "Can't fix that without surgery."
For a moment they were silent, letting the information sink in. Then, Ofelia spoke. "What do you need us to do?"
Charlize thought for a moment. "Get all the medical supplies we have, high-percentage alcohol - clear, and anything you can find to get the bullet out, small pliers, tweezers, something.."
Chris swallowed. "They made Haley take the medical supplies.."
"Check anyway!" Nick said, harsher than he meant to. The prospect of having to treat Charlize's gunshot wound without any experience made him sweat. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. Ofelia and Chris ran to get everything they needed. Nick kneeled down next to the couch and took Charlize's hand in his free one. "You'll be fine," he said, trying to convince himself. Charlize opened her eyes and looked at him. "That depends on you," she smiled, but Nick could tell she was in pain.
"Don't!" Nick said, not smiling.
"I'll talk you through it," she replied, more serious. Nick nodded and leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead against hers.
Ofelia was the first one to return and Nick moved back to focus on Charlize's wound. She was carrying a bottle of vodka and a pair of flat-edged tweezers. "These were the only one's I could find," she said apologetically. Charlize picked them up carefully. "They should work." Ofelia nodded, her expression stern. Before Charlize could say anything else, Chris came running back into the room. "Haley left one of the bags!" he shouted victoriously.
"God bless that woman," Charlize smiled weakly. "Check what's inside."
Chris complied, put the back down on the coffee table next to the couch and opened it. "Is there a compress?" Charlize asked.
Chris rummaged. "Yes!"
"Good. Do you see an IV with saline solution?"
A moments pause, then: "Yes!"
Charlize let out a relieved breath. "Good. Now look for fluid antibiotics. It's a blue package and should say Linezolid with a roman five. 2mg."
"Is that important now? Shouldn't we get the bullet out first?" Nick asked anxiously.
"There is a good chance that I'll pass out when you're getting the bullet out, and I need you to know what to do if I can't talk your through it anymore. There antibiotics are just as important as getting the bullet out. There is still a very realistic chance that the large intestine was hit," she groaned but continued talking. "If there is even minor damage to the intestine it's gonna leak fluid, and that is going to cause severe infection. Even if the bullet only hit the muscle I will need those antibiotics."
All three of them nodded, trying to comprehend all the possible scenarios. Nick tried not to think of what would happen if the bullet hit an organ. It only hit the muscle, he kept telling himself. Only the muscle.
"Have any of you ever prepared an IV?" Charlize asked. Nick looked up at Ofelia and Chris, but both of them were shaking their heads. "Okay," Charlize said. "Chris, give me the IV, the IV needles and tubing, and the antibiotics. If there is disinfectant in that bag give it to Ofelia. If not, Ofelia I need you to clean the tweezers with the Vodka. Chris, look for a medical threat and needle in the bag."
Chris complied and handed her what she asked for. With a hiss of pain and help from Nick, Charlize sat up again and started assembling the IV. Chris rummaged in the bag, but his expression grew sterner by the second. "There's nothing," he said eventually. "No disinfectant, no needle, no threat," he looked up helplessly. "Check for a sewing kit," Charlize said and Chris quickly got up and left.
Nick continued to press the cloth on the wound. "I'm going to talk you through what you're going to have to do now," Charlize said eventually. Nick looked up at her. Charlize's gaze was concentrated and her eyes did not leave the IV she was working on. He nodded. "Okay."
"Disinfect the would with the Vodka. Clean it as good as you can so you can see the entry, and then use the tweezers to carefully get the bullet out. Be careful that you don't push it in further. When you've got it, make sure it's complete and didn't fracture," she swallowed. "Disinfect the wound again when you're done, to be sure. Then you have to stitch it up. Disinfect. Put the compress on. Then you need to administer the IV. You know how to do that, you've used heroin for years. Make sure the IV hangs up high enough. I'm setting the dripping speed, so all you have to do after you've put the needle in is insert the tubing and remove the needle, and then open the valve. Like this-" she held out the IV and showed him what she meant. He nodded, trying to remember everything she had said. When she finished assembling the IV she started looking around the room. Nick noticed that a thin layer of sweat had build on her forehead. "Bring me that," she pointed at a standing hat and coat rack in the corner of the room, her hand automatically moving to take over the pressure on the wound. When he had brought it to her she gave him the IV to hang from it, carefully uncoiling the tubing. "Okay, should be fine," she said eventually and put down the tubing. She carefully laid back down. "Make sure there are no bubbles when you connect it. And disinfect it with the Vodka."
"How am I supposed to remember all that?" Nick asked, feeling unable to cope with all the medical information. Before she could answer, Chris came back into the room. "I couldn't find any needles." Charlize didn't reply right away. When she did, she only said: "I'll think of something." Then: "Give me the Vodka." When Ofelia handed her the bottle, she took a big sip and handed it to Nick. She nodded, signaling him to start, then she put her head down on the couch and closed her eyes. "Disinfect the wound with the Vodka. Chris, I need you to hold my legs down. Ofelia, you hold my shoulders. Just in case."
Ofelia and Chris move into position, placing their hands on Charlize's body softly at first, not wanting to hurt her. Nick swallowed. He willed his hands into being steady, and was relieved to find they were not shaking. He carefully lifted Ofelia's cardigan, now full of blood, and dripped a bit of Vodka onto Charlize's stomach. She hissed in pain. "Sorry," he apologized. Then he used the cardigan to wipe over the wound, trying to remove as much blood as he could so that he could see the wound. He dripped a little more Vodka on it when he was done, and then took the tweezers in his right hand. His heart was hammering in his chest. He adjusted his position so he was closer to the wound which was already covered in fresh blood. He swallowed one more time and then lowered the tweezers. He tried to be as careful as he could when he entered the wound. He could feel the tweezers touching the skin inside the wound, it was tighter than he had imagined. He could feel Charlize tense when he did, but she did not make a sound. He could not see a way in which he did not do more damage to the wound than there already was, but he had to get in there to get the bullet out. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, then he pushed the tweezers in as careful as he could. This time, Charlize hissed in pain and both Chris and Ofelia tightened their grip to stop her from moving. Nick pushed the tweezers in further, trying to follow the trail of the bullet. He had to use more pressure than he liked, and it was causing the wound to bleed more than it did before. There was no way he was able to see what he was doing, so he had to go by what he was feeling. The tweezers were hitting a point where he could not push further, so he adjusted the angle. Charlize groaned. He could not seem to find the trail of the bullet, it was like trying to push an earring through a hole that was already partially closed up. Nick could feel the sweat on his forehead intensifying. "I can't find it," he said. "Keep. Trying." Charlize said through gritted teeth. For a moment, Nick made eye contact with Ofelia. She looked as helpless as he felt. He did not want to keep hurting Charlize, but he kept pushing the tweezers anyway. The more he pushed, the more she groaned, and Chris and Ofelia were having more and more trouble holding her steady. "You have to stop moving," Nick said apologetically, trying hard to keep the tweezers steady. He kept hitting walls, having to adjust the angle. He was starting to get anxious, and just when he thought he had tried every angle, he found a position which let him push the tweezers in even further. This time, Charlize screamed. "I'm sorry," Nick kept repeating as he worked. "I'm sorry." Even his hands were getting sweaty, and he was having trouble keeping the tweezers tight. "Come on, come on, come on," he said more to himself than to anyone else, probing in the wound as carefully as he could.
And just when he thought the tweezers would be too short to reach it, he could feel them hit something hard. "I've got it!" he exclaimed. Nick carefully moved the tweezers so that he could reach it, but just when he had it Charlize moved in pain and he lost it. "Hold her tighter!" he instructed Chris and Ofelia. He moved the tweezers back and Charlize screamed again. This time, when the tweezers found the bullet again, he did not lose it. He carefully started moving his hand up, removing he tweezers from the wound, and when they did, the bullet came out as well. "Yes!" he exclaimed, looking up at Ofelia who had a relieved smile on her face. But when he looked at Charlize, his smile dropped. Her eyes were closed and her face was tight in pain. Her face was glistening in sweat, and her breathing was hard and fast. Nick quickly poured some Vodka over the wound and then the bullet, cleaning it, making sure it was intact. Thankfully, it was. "Nick, it's bleeding pretty bad," Chris said anxiously. Nick looked back at the wound and saw more blood oozing out than before. 'There is a chance that the bullet did hit an artery and is the only thing holding it shut,' Charlize's words from before replayed in his mind. "Charlie, there is a lot of blood," he said anxiously, pushing the cardigan back on to put pressure on it. "What do we do?"
Charlize swallowed hard. "You have to cauterize it."
For a second, Nick felt dizzy. "No," he uttered.
"Cauterize?" Chris asked.
"Burn it," Charlize said.
"No," Nick said again, shaking his head.
"Yes," Charlize said through gritted teeth. "Take a knife, the biggest you can find. Heat it on the stove. Burn it."
For a moment, nobody moved. Both Ofelia and Chris looked at Nick helplessly. "Now!" Charlize almost yelled. Ofelia was the first one to move, running to the kitchen.
"I can't do this," Nick said, shaking his head, as if his words could change the necessity of the wound having to be closed.
"Yes, you can," Charlize said. "It's gonna be fine. We already have antibiotics in the IV." Nick looked at her helplessly. Her eyes were still closed, and her chest was moving up and down quickly, her breathing not slowing down. This time, when Ofelia handed him the glowing knife, his hands were shaking.
"I can do it," Chris said.
"No," Nick replied. He swallowed hard, and lowered the knife.
"She passed out when we burned the wound," Nick told Madison. They were standing next to the couch. Madison was kneeling next to Charlize, carefully stroking her head. Her breathing had slowed down, but there was still sweat glistening on her face. Behind the couch, the IV on the coat rack was slowly dripping antibiotics into her system.
"Is she going to be okay?" Daniel Salazar asked from behind them. Nick had not heard him enter. He shrugged and shook his head lightly, not knowing what else to do. "I don't know."
"You did good," Salazar said, even though his voice was still stern.
"How is Victor?" Madison asked.
"Hypothermic, but he should be fine after some rest and warming up," Salazar said.
"What happened?" Nick asked his mother.
"He took one of the boats and tried to run when he heard them coming. They noticed, and shot his boat down. He must've been in the water for at least 5 hours," Madison told him.
"Did they find us because of Alicia?" Nick asked.
Madison looked at him uncomfortably. Then she nodded. "Only Ofelia and Chris were outside when they came. Two men and a pregnant woman. They pretended that she was having the baby, and Chris didn't know how to react. When we came up Haley took her downstairs, saying she was a nurse and could help. And when they were gone the two guys pulled their guns." Madison shook her head, angry.
"How do we get them back?" Nick asked.
"We have the leader's brother here," Madison replied. "The one who shot Charlie."
"He's dead," Nick replied, irritated. They had locked his dead body into one of the bedrooms.
Madison shrugged. "They don't know that when he's turned and has a bag over his head."
Nick nodded. "I'll go."
"Nick," Madison started, but he interrupted her.
"They took my sister!" he shouted angrily. "And I don't know if she's going to be okay." He looked at Madison intensely and pointed at Charlize, his voice quieter now, but still threatening. "They shot my girlfriend, and I don't know if she is going to be okay!"
Madison nodded. "We'll go together."
