WTF! Did anyone see the new show, "The Last of Us"? I was screaming, screaming I tell you! My Zombie 101 chapter was posted on the 12th, and the show came out on the 15th. (Very Minor Spoiler Alert) They explained if there was ever a possibility of a zombie outbreak, how it might happen. Literally they had my theory verbatim. I was screaming, "I said it first!" LMAO
Keeping it locked away
A secret on every page
But now you're getting close
Feels like dragon's breath
Fire against my chest
Burning through the snow
Ultraviolet by freya ridings
Chapter 7 - Burn
It's early in the morning, when Carol leaves the prison cell with a basket full of hers and Daryl's clothes. Last night, her and Maggie had decided to set up a station outside for awash. And from the looks of it, Maggie had already started when Carol arrives. Maggie had set the two large plastic basin tubs and a bucket of rainwater they gathered.
"Good morning," Carol greets, sitting her basket next to hers. She looks up when she doesn't get a response. Maggie's eyes are fixed on the newcomers, one of the soldiers, Jamie and the young doctor Alice.
"You're missing the show." Maggie whispers.
Carol follows Maggie's sight, as her hands prepare her wash.
The new doctor is training with the young soldier. He has a soccer ball duct-taped to a rope and the rope tied to a long stick. The end of the stick is shoved in the dirt, creating a swing ball. It reminds Carol of tetherball, a game, Sophie used to play.
Every few seconds, the soldier swings the ball, right or left, high or low, and the doctor tries to shoot it with a paintball gun. It mimics a moving target, and Carol thought it's a smart idea to learn hand eye coordination. From how aligned they seem with their movement; Carol guessed they must have been doing this for a while.
The young soldier is shirtless, and Carol can't help but admire his body. The Morning sun shines just right on his sculpted, dark mahogany skin, a bead of sweat running down his back. The doctor is dressed in the standard military issued green tank top. Her hair piled top of her head in a high bun, the few strands of hair that escaped sticking to her neck and forehead.
Carol can't hear what was being said between the two, but there's a genuine affection between them, like siblings. Jamie says something, causing the doctor to laugh at loud. And occasionally, Jamie touches her arm or waist to adjust her form.
"Psss" Maggie breathes, catching Carols attention, and nudges her head toward the far side of the field. There sits, Daryl, underneath a shaded tree, hands busy sharpening his knifes. But his eyes never move from the couple practicing in the middle of the field.
Daryl avoids the topic, but to Carol, it's obvious there is a history between the doctor and the hunter.
"It's like watching one of those soap operas my mom used to like," says Maggie, "I can feel the angst all the way here."
Carol chuckles looking at her friend across the field again. To her, it does not make sense. She's never seen Daryl show any interest in anyone, let along someone like the doctor. But suppose she can't blame him. Alice has that classic beauty look, like Audrey Hepburn. The first thing Carol noticed about her are her large doe like eyes, thick lashes, and her hair so jet black, it made her wonder if that was her natural color. She is well put together, even in a time like this, and especially compared to Daryl who barely takes a shower.
And ever since the new doctor's arrival, Daryl seems to distance himself even more. Carol understands Daryl because she's a survivor like him. She understands his body language, reads him like a book. And it all screams, this woman, this doctor, is the cause of some type of trauma for him. Carol's willing to bet it all, he's not over it.
Can she be the reason why he never approaches any woman…
"Do you think they dated?" Maggie's voice breaks carol out of her thoughts.
"Hmm, I don't think so, but if they did, they would make a very odd couple." She replies, looking toward the doctor again. She just can't picture it.
"I need you to find out, I'm dying here!" Maggie whispers not so quietly, "I'm interested to see what happens in the next episode." Carol opens her mouth to speak but she's interrupted.
"Fuck!" They hear Daryl cuss. He shakes his hand before bringing his thumb to his mouth. From what the ladies can gather, it looks like he cut himself. Carol lets out a sigh, dropping the clothes she's washing back in the tub. Before she can go to check on him, Maggie taps her, stopping her mid movement. Alice had also stopped what she was doing as well, and Carol watches as she says something to Jamie before heading toward Daryl.
"Ooh we might get to watch the next episode after all." Maggie giggles.
After breakfast, Jamie had decided it was time to practice on your aim again. He's been helping you ever since you found the paint ball gun during one of your scavenging trips. For months, you've been working on it. Even though the paint gun didn't have the same kick-back as a real gun, it had improved your accuracy. Charles didn't like you handling real guns, but your steady doctor hands were deadly from a stationary position. What you lack in physical strength, you made it up in your sniper ability, if he only allowed you.
You spot Daryl the moment you step out on the field. You don't know what time he got up, but he's been out there for a while. As you and Jamie practice you could feel his eyes on you.
"If looks could kill, I would be a walker right now." Jamie jokes with a laugh, as he adjusts your hands.
"He doesn't mean anything by it," you tell him. You know Daryl, and deep down he had a heart of gold.
"You gonna tell me what's up with you two?" Jamie questions, watching your form as you shoot.
"Someday, I will. I, myself, not sure right now." You inform him.
It was about an hour into your training; you hear Daryl cuss. You look toward him across the field and realize he had cut himself.
"Why don't we stop here today?" You ask Jaime.
"Yeah, yeah, go check on your man." He says with a smirk. You roll your eyes at him as you step back, making your way up towards Daryl. When you get close enough, you see he has his crossbow and knives laid out.
"What are you doing?" You ask trying to break the ice.
"The hell looks like I'm doin?" He snaps, eyes in glare.
"I don't know, but whatever it is, you're not doing it well." You step toward him, reaching out for his hand. He steps back, tugging his hand away.
"Come on, let me see," you say calmly. "Show me your hand, Daryl." You knew this side of him, the side where he's sensitive to touch. Back when you were young, he had built that trust and been vulnerable with you. You wait patiently with your hands stretched. There's a moment where he just looks at you before he slowly extends his hand.
The cut isn't deep, just a Neosporin and a bandage is all he needs.
"Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?" You tease with a smile. He yanks his hand back with 'tsk'
"The hell you call that child's play anyways?" He motions towards the field where your training tool is still set up.
"My training?"
"That ain't no trainin, can't learn shit with a ball." He criticizes, "got to learn with the real thing."
"Believe it or not, it paid off. But maybe… you can teach me something." You suggest, taking small step towards him. His body reacts the same, locking up. You decide to pull back, baby steps are always the best approach with him. "Maybe someday…" you conclude.
It's around noon and the sun is high in the sky. Everyone gathers at the breakout area in the living quarter of the prison.
The plan is set in motion. Glenn, Maggie, and Carol will set up the blood and deer skin on the north side of the building, while also creating loud noise to draw out the walkers.
Meanwhile, the men will enter from the west side of the prison.
On the cement floor, using a chalk, Charles writes down the mission divided in two parts. Reconnaissance and Grab and Go. Everyone knows their formation. Once you're inside, the men are tasked with scouting, while you and Jamie will 'Grab and Go' of any supplies you might need.
You walked into the breakout room, with your empty backpack and machete in hand. You've changed your clothes to your military cargo pants and the only running shoes you have. The Men, Charles, Jamie, Rick, Daryl, T-dog and the two previous prisoners are getting ready with their knives and guns. The ever-paranoid Charles double checks everything.
As you move closer, Daryl looks at you, his eyes running up and down quizzically. "Watcha doin here?" He questions suspiciously.
"Getting ready." You state the obvious. He looks from you to Charles and back at you. It seems to click to him then.
"You ain't coming." He says firmly, looking toward Charles for confirmation, "She AIN'T coming!" He tells him, voice forceful.
"Yes, I am," you counter, looking between the men. You've discussed this with Rick and Charles. There's a plan in place.
"No, you ain't!" He huffs, pacing back and forth. "The hell y'all doin, she is the only doctor we got, something happens to her in there, then what's the point of all this. Look what happened to Herschel!" His voice is ruff, and the pitch has changed.
"Daryl, we don't know what we are looking for." Charles tries. "It's the only way."
"Don't matter!" Daryl snaps desperately.
"There is more of us now, and we are better prepared." Rick steps forward, "if things don't go as planned, we turn right back immediately." He reconciles. Daryl's breathing hard and pacing back and forth like a trapped animal.
"Ain't no way man!" He's not budging. You move forward to try your luck. You want to reach out to him and reassure him, but you know that will only make things worse.
"Look, it's me or Herschel. We are the only one with a medical background. Somebody gotta go in there and look at what we got." He looks at you with his nostril huffed. "If we can't find what we're looking for, then someone with a medical background must determine if there's any other options." He flexes his fist.
"Fuck!" He cusses again for the second time today. He picks up his crossbow with determination. You can tell he doesn't accept the plan, but he's willing to go along with it. "You stay close." He tells you grimly. You nod in reply, but you know this won't be the end of it.
With that, everyone moves to their delegated task.
It's a tight formation, and with every turn Jamie marks the wall with spray paint, signaling where they turned for references. Besides the two flashlights held by Charles and T-dog, the hallways are pitch dark. You're sandwiched in the middle of this tight circle, as they lead you through the shadowy maze. Every now and then, a walker will approach, but it's quickly delt with. You don't know how long you moved, but your heart pounds with each breath, so you count your steps to calm yourself.
Aside from a handful walkers, things moved according to plan.
There's a ghostly silence when you get to the medical wing. It's located at the heart of the prison, with high ceilings and wide hallways.
"This is it," Charles whisper pointing to the clinic door with the red cross logo at the center. Rick tries the handle, but to no vail the door is locked. Rick steps back before bringing the back of his rifle down on the door handle. You cringe, as the noise resonates through the quite hallway. The Door isn't budging, and Rick slams into it over and over again, while everyone stood holding their breath for the effect of the noise.
Nothing happens…
Charles and Rick exchange a look. Rick pulls out his hand pistol and presses the barrel to the lock. You watch, your body tense. When the gun goes off, the echo was deafening in the empty halls, the high ceiling reverberating the sound. You held on to your machete tightly, as you hear the growling noise of the walkers.
Don't think, just swing, you tell yourself.
The gunshot had been the call the walkers needed, as they stagger forward through both side of the hallway.
"Get ready!" Rick hollers before kicking the infirmary door in.
It's like being hit with a flood. Your eyes widen in shock. There are dozens of prisoners who locked themselves inside the infirmary, probably during the initial outbreak. When the generators went out, so did the automatic lock, permanently shutting them inside. They had starved to death before turning.
All you can hear is gun shots and crunching noise as blades connect with sculls. You hold securely onto the back of Jamie's tactical vest, as he pushes forward, leading you inside. Rick, Jamie, and Charles are the first to breach the infirmary.
The smell is horrendous, as the room is filled with urine, feces, and decomposing flesh, that you hold back a gag.
You swing your blade connecting it to a walker's head when it slips passed Jamie. Your eyes investigate the room. There are a few examination beds, computers on wheels and scanners scattered around the room. Then, your eyes lands on a metal storage cabinet at the far side of the room.
"Cover me!" you howl at Jamie, slipping underneath his arms. You swing your knife connecting it with the walkers staggering toward you. You hear Jamie shouting for you to wait, but you're already on the move. There's no time, the group need to get out before you get overwhelmed by walkers. The supplies you're looking for must be inside the metal cabinet. It's the only thing that had a secondary lock. When you finally reach it, you notice someone had broken the padlock, and instead, they've jammed some type of pipe as an anchoring system. Just then, you feel a bullet wiz pass you, hitting a walker approaching to your left.
You glance back at Jamie, who's fighting multiple walkers, keeping them at bay from you.
You grab the pipe and yank it free.
The moment the storage door opens, you feel something large tumble on you. You shriek back, tripping over your own foot. The back of your head connects with the ground in a thud. It's a walker, so massive, somehow, whoever shoved him in the storage have folded him in a weird hunchback shape. Your head feels lightheaded as you struggle against its large thick form. Its teeth come chomping for you, and you scream as you hold it back with your forearm on its neck. With your free hand, you try to angle your machete to connect with its head.
It's so abrupt how the weight of it leaves you, as quick as it was on you. Daryl comes out of nowhere, football tackling him, the body yanked off of you by the prison jumpsuit. He dives back with the corpse swiftly jamming his knife in its head.
You don't even have a second to catch your breath before Daryl is grasping at you. "You bit?" He asks, his hands franticly checking, his fingers trembling.
"No," you mumble pushing pass him, rapidly crawling towards the cabinet. There is no time. Your head hurts, and the air was knocked out of you.
"Let's go!" You hear Jamie howling, rapid shot going off again. Daryl grabs your elbow and yanks you up. You fight him, trying to shove anything and everything into your backpack.
"Wait, let's check the drawer!" You try to pull back, but your strength does not compare to him. He shoves you toward Jaime, who grabs your hands and tugs you forward. You stumble trying to keep up with Jamie's long legs. He shoots every walker that staggers in front of you. Daryl is right behind, covering your back.
"Move out! Move out!" You can hear Charles yell over the gun shots, as you leave them behind.
Carol did her part to a tee.
After clearing the few walkers lingering in the field, herself, Glenn, and Maggie opened the north side of the prison wing. They had a bucket full of blood, gut, and deer skin. Starting a few steps inside, they poured the content of the bucket, creating a trial out to the field. It was a simple plan… give them something to follow outside.
And for the most part, it worked. Once they started banging on the bucket, creating ruckus, the walkers followed.
That was until the first gun went off somewhere inside the prison.
Carol freezes and catches Glenn's eyes as a massive echo resonates over the building. Everyone tries to be louder. Everyone, including the rest of the group watching across the field. She tries to bang on the bucket louder, but the walkers stagger back inside. The gun shots doesn't stop, but farther encourages the dead. She watches with fear clinching to her as the plan fails miserably.
"Let's go, they might need support!" Glenn hollers sprinting towards their living quarter, the west wing. Maggie and Carol follow running as fast as they can.
"Wait! we can't follow them; we don't even know where they are!" Maggie reasons once they step inside the prison. Glenn stops at the gate. He knows she's right. But their best and strongest are inside, and if they don't make it out, this group won't survive without them. Glenn kicks the metal gate out of anger.
"We must trust that they will make it out." Herschel states, trying to ease everyone's fear.
And he's right.
It doesn't take long before they hear fast footsteps. It's the young soldier, Jamie, leading the doctor and the hunter. Seconds later, they're followed by the rest of the men. There's a commotion, as they all stumble in, some covered in walker's blood. Once everyone makes it inside safely, Glenn quickly locks the gate.
There's a moment of relief as everyone catches their breath. But it doesn't last long as Daryl slams his crossbow onto the prison metal table.
"What the HELL were ya thinkin!" It's directed at the doctor. Surprised by the burst of anger, Carol stands there and watch, but she isn't the only one. Everyone is watching.
"Don't know what you're talking about," Alice replies rubbing the back of her head, as if she's sore.
"Ya coulda died!" Daryl snaps.
"I saw an opening and I made the call." There's finality in the doctor's voice.
"You risked everyone's lives! Your life and my life!" It's like watching kettle boil, the tension rising every second. He paces the space in front of her, like a lion ready to pounce.
"I had my backup." She turns her back to him.
"Then why you had a fuckin walker at yer throat! Where the fuck was yer backup!"
"No one asked you to come for me!"
"You're full of shit!" Daryl spits.
"You could have left me like you always do! After all, abandoning me is your thing." That's a jap, if Carol ever seen one. There's a jerk in Daryl's body, and the whole room feels it as the tension bursts.
"I never…FUCK YOU!" His anger flares and he step toward Alice. Carol haven't heard Daryl voice this raspy with anger since the night Rick chained his brother to a roof.
"Alright, that's enough." Charles says coolly, stepping between them and grabbing the doctor's wrist. There's a ferocity of a wild cat as she yanks her hand and shove Charles back.
"FUCK YOU TOO! No one asked you! You could have left! You always do!" She yells stepping forward almost nose to nose with Daryl. It's as if watching a tornado meets a volcano.
Everyone knew this is no longer about what happened in the depth of the prison.
"Don't fuckin put your shit on me!" He snares back in her face, voice echoing through the chamber. "Yar daddy called, and ya tucked in your fuckin tail, and flew right back into your little golden cage!" Daryl steps back with a hiss. "You know what, FUCK THIS!" He doesn't wait for a second, he turns and marches toward the door.
The doctor is hot on his heel. Charles tries to grab her hand again, to keep her at bay. She turns on him with the same fire in her eyes. "Don't touch me!" And she is gone.
Maggie's eyes lock with Carol's, and as if in sync they both sprint toward the door to catch the rest of the fight.
"This is way better than any soap opera," Meggie whispers, peeping through the gap in the door, where she has full visual.
You are so hot, every nerve in your body is on fire. Your blood is boiling. Every cell vibrating, as your body shakes in anger.
All the pain you ever felt caused by this man seems to regurgitate back, fueled in rage.
He just got down the last steps of the prison when you catch up to him. Your hands connect to his back, shoving him as hard as you could, the force thrusting him forward a few steps.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME HAH!" He turns on you, his fury equally matching yours.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Your throat is dry from all the screams. "How dare you say that to me! you don't get to fucking say that to me!" The tears you have been fighting no longer seem to keep at bay. It rains down your cheek hot, the taste of salt on your tongue.
You shove him again hard!
"DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!" He warns you, his finger shoved to your face. You can see the rage in his eyes, but you've never been intimidated by Daryl.
As you bubble over, your hand swing at him. He catches your wrist in mid slap, grip firm. You slam your other hand into his chest.
"You left me! You left me after everything! I wrote you begging, and you left me!" With each syllable, you bring your fist over and over again.
You can't remember ever being this frenzy in your whole life. All the pain, helplessness, anger…all 15 years in the making have disgorge right here.
"The fuck you talkin about!" He speaks through his teeth, grabbing your other hand as well, keeping both locked on his chest!
"The letter! I waited the whole night! In the fucking dark! I WAITED!" You weep.
"I don't KNOW watcha takin about!" You don't listen. You jerk and thrash your entire body until he releases your hands. Your vision blurry with tears.
The instant you are free, you launch at him again, and he braces himself.
But it isn't your fist that connects.
It's your lips that comes crashing against his.
He staggers back, but you're consumed. He inhales deeply through his nose as soon as your lips meet, swallowing the surprise. Your lips move as if wanting to drink him in, and the response is instantaneous. His mouth is warm, open, and possessive, tinge with a desperation you can feel in the bite of his teeth. You breathe him in too—his smell. Your mind can almost conjure the taste of the cigarette he used to smoke.
Your back slams into the side of the prison building. The moment he opens his lips, your tongue slips into his mouth. Everything is on fire.
One broad hand anchor at the back of your neck, gripping it forcefully. Your fingers bury in his hair, clinching it so tight, it must hurt. His other hand is at your hip bone, hosing you up, your legs locking, clutching, pulling against him at the back of his thigh.
This is desperation. This is fire… you burn... and you burn.
Your chemistry consuming, obliterating the outside world.
Your fingers are helpless, sliding down his chest seeking his skin.
It happens almost instantly…
Like being dunked in a cold water, the way he lurches back, staggering away from you.
Your knees are shaking, and it takes you a second to catch yourself. You both just stare, pupils dilated, chest moving up and down. You see all the emotions display on his face. The deep agony… you can see it. It shakes you to your core. You take a step toward him, and he mimics stepping back. He's a picture of a scared animal.
"No," He says, voice raspy, "I ain't doin this with chu again." And then he's gone, his feet moving quick. You want to chase him, to beg him, but your legs are like cement.
You slowly slide down, let the pain wash over you, if not the tears.