Yes, yes, you all thought I'd abandoned you. Well, I got super busy hunting down these raptors, they're clever girls. *puts on slouch hat* Anyways, let me assure you this story hasn't been abandoned. Quite the opposite, I have a third lined up already and am working on it as I type this...well I'm on tumblr and checking emails and posting this, but I will work on it yet tonight...long story short! I'm back!
Chapter Forty-Nine: Ayezan IV
**Old Missy**
Kneeling before the altar with her hands clasped, Grace communed with God.
She talked to him about a lot of things. There was really nothing she needed to pray to him for, but she talked to him because who else would understand how she was feeling?
Whenever that Cajun was around, she was smitten, but his absence, left doubt and fear in her.
But it still felt like the rapture had come and her and her fellow sisters were left behind.
She didn't know anything.
But she talked to God in the hopes of gaining some clarity, anything.
Maybe she was right in abandoning her vows. She knew she was right in telling the sisters to change their habits, literally. This world wasn't made for long robes and veils, and they didn't hold mass anymore, the bells never rang and it had been so long since Father O'Rourke had time to hear confessions.
There were times – however - when the convent grounds were silent as they were now in the darkest of night, when Grace wondered about her silent God and the things that lurked outside the walls. And she prayed, hard, for some proof of his existence. Proof that he still loved them unconditionally and that it wasn't the rapture that left the sinners clinging to the rocks, but some kind of hardship meant for them to overcome.
These were the thoughts which left her head spinning.
Show me a sign, she prayed, that I'm on the right path. And keep this convent and all who belong to our group safe, forever and ever, amen.
Crossing herself, she rose to her feet and kissing her fingertips, pressed them to the bloodied foot of Christ on his cross before her.
Shouting from the world outside, had her moving down the aisle of the church quickly, heading for the door.
In the black of night she couldn't see anything, so she followed the voices, yelling from near the gate.
Grace picked up the pace, hustling to the gate and struggling onto the wall beside Karen and her son Noah.
Below them stood Cash and that poor deaf boy, only one of them demanding entrance vocally.
"Where's the others?" Karen snapped back.
"Christ, woman," Cash snarled. "I have a lady leaking fluids here! This place was closest for an emergency oil change!"
Grace hopped down off the wall on the other side and approached the truck they had arrived in.
"What's going on?" She demanded.
"I don't know, shit do I look like a doctor?" Cash replied.
Huddled in the back were about five women, one of which was flat on her back in the bed of the truck, her face was bloodied and almost an unrecognizable mess, and by the way she writhed and the size of her stomach, Grace knew instantly what that Cash fellow was talking about. At her side knelt a man with sharp features, his hands holding her hand tightly.
"She's gone into labour," the man said. "It's a month early, probably stress."
"Karen, get the gate!" Grace called up, climbing into the truck bed and kneeling opposite the man beside the pregnant woman. "It's alright, sugar. Somebody wake up Herschel and Mrs. Douglas!" She commanded as the truck started up and pulled through the now open gate.
The woman whimpered and from the way she gripped the man's hand with white knuckles, the former nun firmly believed she was either having a contraction or suffering some kind of internal injury and the jarring of the truck bouncing over the lawns of the convent was irritating it.
"God have mercy," Grace pleaded softly, stroking the woman's dark hair out of her face.
"Where's my brother?" The woman murmured.
Looking up, Grace addressed one of the other women. "Does she have a brother?"
"Not that I know of," the woman said.
Taking the poor woman's hand from the man who was feeling around her abdomen with expert deftness, Grace held it tight and whispered. "I'm not sure where he is, honey. It'll be okay, you'll be fine." Reaching over the woman, she knocked hard on the glass of the back window and pointed towards the infirmary. "Drive right up, close!"
Cash nodded and pulled the truck in close to the infirmary, backing it up almost to the door.
Milton Mamet emerged curiously from within and immediately began to help the woman down from the back of the truck with his good arm as Grace prepared to move the woman as Herschel and Mrs. Douglas both ambled up.
"Is she going into labour?" Herschel demanded, climbing into the back of the truck with some difficulty, sliding his ass over the floor of the truck bed to sit beside the woman, eyeing her head injuries. "How many months along is she?"
"Eight," the man said. "You a doctor?"
"Of animals."
"Well, I could use the help," the man said, hopping off the back of the truck to help them with the woman.
"Eight months, Jesus," Mrs. Douglas murmured. "Okay, let's get her inside. Mr. Mamet, we'll need you as well on this one!"
Grace went with the young woman as Cash, the man who came with them and the deaf Marine helped her out of the back of the truck, hauling her inside as carefully and as quickly as they could.
Keeping a tight grip of her hand, Grace followed.
"Andrea, take care of the other women, please?" She asked on her way past the woman.
Andrea nodded and limped towards the group huddled outside the infirmary.
"What's your name, baby?" Mrs. Douglas asked as she set out some instruments from the stash of medical equipment they had raided from the Marine base.
Grace watched as the man with the sharp features reached for a penlight off a nearby tray and shone it into the woman's eyes.
"Adele," the woman muttered.
"Adele, I'm Barbara, this is Herschel and Milton, we're going to take good care of you, but you have to trust us, okay?" Mrs. Douglas said.
The woman was quiet.
"Adele?" Mrs. Douglas said louder.
"Okay."
"Grace, you okay over there?" Mrs. Douglas asked.
Moving into a corner by the bed, keeping her hand in the woman's but getting out of the others way, Grace nodded. "Yes, do you want me to leave?"
"No, you're fine where you are," the older woman said.
The sharp featured man moved to peer between Adele's open legs with a frown, lifting her dress and shimmying her panties off. "She's dilated about eight centimetres," he declared after professionally poking at her. "This baby isn't screwing around."
"Meaning?" Herschel asked.
At Mrs. Douglas' and the other man's look, he shrugged, "I deal in horses and cows normally."
"Meaning," Mrs. Douglas explained as the man went about checking Adele's pulse, "this baby is goddamned coming whether we're ready or not. Mr. Mamet, you need to find us something to put the baby in, it has to be warm like an incubator, because a month early isn't as bad as it could be, but this baby'll need a lot of help for a bit."
"An incubator…?" Milton murmured with a frown, his genius brain working. "I got it!" He tore out of the infirmary, leaving the others to deal with the pregnant woman.
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**Daryl**
When they came upon the wreck it was so dark that the only way they caught sight of it over the steep embankment, it was due to the fiery red of the taillights.
Stopping his bike, Daryl hopped off, hefting his crossbow as he did, glancing around for signs of threats, before sliding and skidding down the embankment towards the ruins of the SUV.
Raising his weapon, he carefully moved around the driver's side. In the dark he couldn't see anyone sitting there, living or undead. In fact, at first glance he thought the whole vehicle was empty.
If it wasn't for the one tiny booted foot which stuck up and over the back of the passenger's seat.
Trying the door, he found it stuck.
Fay appeared on the other side, opening the door.
By the time Daryl moved around the vehicle, the Lieutenant was reaching down into the darkness cautiously to feel Carol's throat for a pulse.
"Is she…?" Daryl asked.
Fay frowned, holding his hand down in the darkness of the floor under the dashboard.
Carol's hand flailed out of the darkness and both men pulled back quickly.
"Help," she pleaded, voice hoarse from yelling for most of the evening.
"Carol," Daryl stated, moving to kneel by the open door. "It's okay, we'll get you out."
Daryl caught Fay staring at the amount of blood he pulled away from Carol's neck on his hand, before the Cajun quickly wiped it off on the thigh of his pants.
Gripping the seat, Daryl was about to attempt to yank it up and out of the vehicle all together so that he could get Carol out from where she was pinned, but Fay stopped him.
"She could have a spinal injury," he said calmly. "Just slow down, cabri."
"We don't have time, she's been in here for hours," Daryl snapped. "Could be bleeding out."
"She'll be fine for a few more minutes," the Lieutenant assured him. "Carol, this is the Lieutenant, can you hear me?" He asked, kneeling by the open door, removing his pack and shoving up the sleeves on his uniform.
"Yes," she croaked.
"Okay, I need you to wiggle your toes for me, yeah?"
She kicked her foot.
"Good, good, where are you injured? Can you tell me?"
"I'm pinned, my shoulder, it's jammed under here."
Fay looked at Daryl with a small furrow in his brow.
"What?" Daryl demanded.
"Nothing, I'm thinking," Fay returned. He ducked his head back into the vehicle to talk to Carol. "Does your back feel injured, or your head at all?"
"I hit my head when we crashed," she said.
"Okay, forehead?"
"I think so."
"Alright, I need you to carefully try to turn onto your back, slowly. If you feel anything shift unnaturally in your spine, you need to stop, immediately, yeah? I'm going to help you, keep your spine straight. We need to unwedge you from the dash."
"Alright," she returned weakly.
Daryl hovered, ready to jump in and help should it be needed. He took a quick glance around to keep them safe, but spied nothing moving in the shadows.
"Cabri?" Fay barked.
"Yeah?"
"See if you can turn on the interior lights, my hands are full right now."
Leaning over the man, Daryl fumbled with the lights overhead, before the driver's side light flickered on.
In the light he spied the amount of blood that seeped into the carpet on the floor and the upholstery of the passenger seat and winced. Unable to see Carol half under the dash, hidden mostly by the Lieutenant, Daryl settled on pacing helplessly by the open door, keeping watch.
"Wiggle your foot again," Fay said, easing his arm out from under Carol.
She did so, her boot kicking in the air.
"Daryl, you come up front here, support her spine the best you can, keep it straight. I'll crawl into the backseat to see if I can yank this seat back and out, give us some more room to get her free."
As he slipped in to take over the support, Daryl felt more blood slipping against the back of his hand as it moved under Carol's hip.
"Carol," the Lieutenant said, "you still there, ange?"
"Yes," she replied weakly.
As Fay set about unbolting the front seat, Daryl moved his head down a little closer to Carol in order to try to peer at her face.
"You alright?" He whispered to her nervously.
When she didn't respond, he glanced behind him to where Fay was busy with the seat and licking his bottom lip, tried louder.
"You alright?"
"Yes," she murmured, sighing heavily. "Martin…he's gone…I think."
Knowing the smell of blood could attract walkers, Daryl poked his head back up and took a look beyond their little world of chaos and blood.
It took his eyes awhile to adjust to the darkness after the light of the interior, but when they did he realized the stars had come out and were shining down on them with vivid beauty.
"The stars are out," he said to Carol when he returned his attention back on her. It was a dumb assed thing to say, but he didn't exactly know what else to say. He felt out of his element and out of control.
When Carol didn't say anything again, he felt his heart speed up and urged, "Carol?"
"Yes," she replied softly.
"Everything will be okay," he assured her, the words more for his ears than hers.
It was then that Fay yanked hard on the front seat and it gave, holding Carol's legs as he pulled the seat out from under them, the Lieutenant and Daryl both slowly, carefully moved the seat out of the vehicle, while easing her legs down flat.
"Mais, one down," Fay stated with a tilt of his head. "Now, cabri, hold her spine. I mean, still, still, son, and we'll see if we can slide her back."
Normally someone calling Daryl 'son' would have him snapping back with 'I ain't your son, dick', but he let that one slide since Fay never normally called him 'son'. He assumed it was a knee jerk comforting method the Cajun had with people.
Oddly enough, it worked. It gave Daryl enough confidence to nod and move in to support Carol's spine better.
"Carol," the Lieutenant called out. "We're going to try to move you, you feel anything shift unnaturally…"
"I know," she gasped.
"Alright, beau ange, let's light the fires."
They began to tug carefully, but they had no sooner started then Carol gasped and cried out.
"Stop, stop! My shoulder!"
Both men backed off quickly.
"I think…something's in my shoulder," Carol said wearily.
Tenting himself carefully over Carol, the Lieutenant moved up and into the space beneath the dash to take a look himself.
"You look like hell, ange." He said with his voice muffled under the dash.
"I feel like hell," she replied.
"Mwah," Fay said on his way out, obviously kissing Carol playfully. "Be back for dinner, honey."
She laughed, but it quickly became a cough.
"Alright," Fay explained to Daryl, kneeling at Carol's feet in the back of the vehicle. "She's pinned good, it's not through anything bad yet, but she's bleeding fast. We need more power than we got on us."
Daryl scowled. "What's that mean?"
Wiping his brow with the back of his hand dragged a smear of Carol's blood across Fay's forehead and painted him hellishly. "Uh, we need, jaws of life or something…that town nearby should have a volunteer fire department, they'll have a jaws. You need to stay here with her in case anything happens."
"Like what?" Daryl demanded.
"Uggies, mostly," Fay replied, setting a hand on Daryl's shoulder and squeezing. "I'll be back as quick as a hare."
Watching Fay race off for his bike and left alone with Carol pinned, bleeding like a stuck pig, Daryl realized that he was scared.
He had never been scared. Ever.
But he was shaking and weak with fear, realizing he couldn't let Carol know, he cleared his throat and said roughly, "that dumb ass can't even ride like a man."
..-~-..
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**Rick**
"We'd like to help you look longer," Delgado said as they met on the side of the road where they envoy of vehicles had been driving in circles looking for the Lieutenant and Daryl, "but I need to get back to my people to make sure they didn't hit while we were gone. We have a hell of a clean-up job to do."
They had divided up the stash of goodies left by the Arkansas group and found themselves an old blind man in the cabin, but with nothing left there to do and with no sign of Carol, Martin, Daryl or the Lieutenant, everyone was getting tired and ready to go home.
Rick, worn out, nodded in understanding to the Marine. "Yeah, thanks for the help you did give. When things calm, I'll send some people over to give you a hand in rebuilding."
Delgado smirked. "That's mighty neighbourly of you," he drawled in a Georgian accent pulled straight from the scenes of Gone with the Wind. "Good luck, man."
"Yeah."
Watching Delgado and his jeep of people pull off and drive away, Rick sighed and scuffed at the asphalt with his boot.
"What do you want to do, Rick?" Glenn asked from where he stood nearby with Merle at his side.
"Glenn, you'd better take Merle and the others back to the convent, call it a night. I'll keep looking."
"Aw, now," Merle said. "My baby brother's out there, running wild. I might think he's a little asshole, but he's kin. I'll come with you."
Chuckling bitterly, Rick touched his hands to his hip and tilted his head. "Merle, no offence, but we'd kill each other alone in a truck cab."
"Hell, you handcuffed me to a roof, Officer Friendly," Merle rasped. "Ain't no bad blood between us."
"Yeah, not much. Think I'd be safer travelling with a pissed off viper."
Merle chuckled. "Come on, I won't bite."
Glenn licked his bottom lip. "I'm with you too, Rick. We need to stick together."
"What about the others?" Merle demanded.
The three of them glanced to the SUV where a few of their people were nodding off, huddled in the backseat.
"Send them on." Rick said. "We'll go without them. Besides, they'll be wondering about us at the convent."
Moving to the SUV, Rick poked his head into the back. "You guys take the SUV back," he commanded. "Glenn, Merle and I will keep looking."
Sister Joan frowned. "What about the old man?"
Beside her, the blind fellow tipped his chin up. "My hearing isn't handicapped, girl."
Ignoring him, Rick sighed. "Take him to the convent. I don't think he'll do much."
"Don't no old man like me survive by being couyon," he stated firmly. "I won't cause no trouble."
"Keep an eye on him anyways," Rick added.
"That's what I'd do," the man retorted. "I'll drive," he teased with a broad grin.
"Think you'll have your hands full with this one, sister," Merle said from the other side of the SUV.
Joan smiled and slipped into the driver's seat. "Well, if he gives me any problems, he'll be walking."
"Woman," the old man said, "you're the goddamned devil."
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No replies to reviews tonight in favour of just posting this damned thing. I know you'll forgive me. You all know you're beautiful, anyways. ^_^