Chapter Nine
Further Complications
Sticky humidity clung to every breath she seized through her open mouth. The weight of the pack on her back compounded the growing ache at the base of her spine.
Her legs stepped high through tall grasses and weeds. The crunch under her feet set her teeth on edge.
Shane kept a shotgun slung over his shoulder as he walked. A short knife perched between his fingers. He scanned the distance of whispering trees for threats before he turned back around and gestured to the rock hidden beneath the foliage.
Lori shot a nasty look across the group. She was in the middle of the search party with Rick far ahead spearheading their path.
Sweat clung to every inch of skin. Covered and bare. Laini was slick in its sheen.
"Sophia!" Carol's voice called out.
Delaney stifled the urge to shoot the woman a disbelieving look. They were out in the open with no protection and a lack of enough ammunition to handle a group should it sweep through.
She kept pace with Shane. He overlooked his shoulder to ensure she was close at regular intervals.
Before the group left the highway, he'd taken her aside and gave her explicit instructions to never part from his side. "I don't care what the rest of them are doing. You stay by me. Don't leave my side for nothing. You understand?"
"Here." He was right ahead of her. A black canteen extended from his hand. "You doin' alright? You need a break?"
She shook her head as she pulled a swallow.
A chorus of voices spread from their group as they traveled beneath the tree cover. They stumbled upon a campsite. Sophia was not inside. There was a lovely scene of a suicide, though, that left a numbing sensation over her skin. Her skin felt heavy. It pulled at her bones, the edges of her body nearing cutting through as it hung from her person, devoid and nothing.
Daryl had a particular distaste for suicide. He did not express empathy or sorrow of any kind.
Like they were weaker for choosing to leave a world they couldn't face.
A lonely existence in a haunted torturous realm of dead walking, fears alive, shadows deeper, and all makings of human depravity exposed with no one to keep it in check.
The world was about to get so much worse for all anyone knew.
A choice to leave seemed the only smart option.
They walked under those trees until it felt a dizzy nightmare where every direction looked the exact same.
A sudden sound, loud and resonating, split the calm air. It rippled around the group. Their hopes suddenly rose.
"Who would make a noise that loud?" Glenn asked, in disbelief.
"It's my Sophia," Carol said. "She's trying to signal us."
Laini grabbed on Shane's arm. She did not want to follow.
"It's too loud," she murmured. The group was riled, already excited stepping through the foliage, making their footprint louder in the quiet. "Something's going to hear."
Whatever it was triggered her sense. She felt tense all at once. Her mind went back to the image of that dead walker beneath her hands, its rotten blood leeched onto the surface, that foul smell, the dead of its eyes looking back up at her. She, the one turned predator.
Her stomach did not ease in discomfort as they broke through the clearing to a small old church with an ancient graveyard around. It was small, white building. A very humble, aging church before the end.
"No steeple, Rick." Shane's voice echoed.
It disturbed the lingering air. The haunted still of it all.
Andrea stood on the edge of the church grounds. Her eyes were glassed over with indifference toward the headstones, the death, the standing church with its cross bared over its front stoop.
The rest of them were ahead. Shane, Daryl and Rick held their weapons at the front of their chests. They at the front of the assault where anything could happen once those doors opened.
It was a risk they did not have to take. Delaney tried to speak as much. They could survey. There were windows they could look through, a backdoor perhaps that would make for a sly entrance.
If a mass of zombies were behind those doors, Shane would be the first slain before the rest of them ran.
Laini thought of the child in her stomach. A baby without a father, her without Shane. There was no chance then. Their lives would be forfeited without him there to protect them.
Rick's own inability (along with everyone else's) to accept that Sophia was gone, dead already, was going to get Shane killed. He'd kill them all just to save a little girl that was not coming back. She hadn't a chance out there. Not with walkers and the trees and the night.
A lump rose at the back of her throat. She thought to scream it out in front of everyone so that Shane might rethink his course of action.
Rick kicked the door in. Boards clattered. They fell from the frame, bits of the door splintered, flying into the room where walkers of bone and naught much else, stood.
The sharp rotten decay that hit their noses staggered them back farther than the loud, chiming of bells.
Little Carl held his ears under the might of the bells.
Daryl, Shane, and Rick killed the occupants of the church. The bodies dropped, rather clattered to the ground. The sound sent a shudder down her spine.
The sound, the smell, the knowledge that what they were doing was wrong. It was too much. The lump in her throat catapulted higher.
She ran down the stairs of the church out to the weeds where she fell to her knees and puked. There was not much to vomit other than sickly yellow bile. But it retched her body over in the same pressure. Her entire body under its control.
A pair of smooth hands ran through her hair. They held it away from her face as she continued until the waves stopped rippling through her.
Delaney raised her eyes. The blonde woman stood over her with a sad expression.
They were both battling their own demons. This was hers, but Andrea's was just as real. Their sadness was the same in their hearts. The question of what they were now that all they knew was gone.
Laini dragged the back of her hand across her bottom lip and chin. "Thanks."
Andrea pushed a thin, polite smile. "No problem."
For a moment, she felt like they understood one another. They both needed a comfort in the unstable world to keep them protected: Andrea, with her gun, and Laini with her Shane.
A quick set of footsteps sounded behind their backs.
"What's goin' on?" Shane asked.
"You need a front row seat to puke, Shane?" Andrea said curtly.
Laini rose to her feet. She felt relieved. The churning in her stomach was not so awful now.
"There could be walkers out here," he explained. "Can't go running without thinking."
She exhaled a breath. "You kicked in a door without thinking."
He slung the shotgun from his shoulder. "Yeah. But I had backup."
"Andrea had my back."
Glenn ran around the corner of the building. "It was on an electronic timer. I got it disconnected."
The church bells stopped clanging.
It was not Sophia signaling them. There was nothing out there but death, and all the reminders of it.
Laini was sticky and drained and sweaty and smelled and done with the whole crusade through the wilderness. She voted to return to the RV. T-Dog was still alive and needed to be tended to in case that wound broke open again.
Rick did not agree. He fought like hell to keep searching.
"I'll do it myself if I have to," Rick declared.
Even Lori looked at him with an exhausted look. They were all tired. They'd searched all day. There was little food, little water left in their bottles and the sun would start going down. They had miles to hike back.
"You can't do this by yourself," Lori said.
"I won't be alone," Rick retorted. "I'll have Shane."
Laini's heart sank.
Them two alone out in the woods did not make them invincible.
Shane shifted. His eyes dropped to the ground as he thought.
"You'll need Daryl to find your way back," Rick explained. "Go back to the highway. Scavenge what's left on the highway. We'll be right behind you."
"Man. I don't know," Shane mumbled lowly. "I don't think we should split our numbers up."
Rick thought a minute. The man showed a surprising amount of determination for how laidback he was in other aspects.
He grabbed the pistol from his holster and extended it to his wife. "Lori can have my gun. They'll be better protected."
"Then you won't be," Lori said.
She refused to take the gun.
"Maybe we should just all stay together," Shane offered.
Carol's arms dropped from her their X against her chest. "What about Sophia?"
"I'm not taking your gun!" Lori exclaimed.
"Here." Daryl finally grunted. The pistol that was pulled from the suicide camp was given the light of day once more. He handed it to the woman. "Take this one."
The woman took that gun without hesitation. She did not want to leave her husband unarmed. Delaney begrudgingly supported that choice. Rick's lack of firearm meant Shane did not have backup.
Her eyes blared straight at Shane's face. He should stand up to Rick. He needed to say how ridiculous it was. She knew he felt that way.
Then, as if to conflict things more, Lori tells Carl to go with Rick and Shane. "Boy time," she said with a smile.
As if it was a time for them to bond!
Delaney frowned as they (meaning Rick and Lori) agreed to the plan.
Shane took her to the side and gave her a kiss. "I won't be long. We'll walk around a bit then loop on back."
"Shane, there's something I have to tell you."
"No. Hey! Not until I get back." His eyes held firm to hers. He placed a kiss on her forehead looping his arms around her. "I'm coming back, Lain. I am coming back."
She swallowed. "Then take me with you."
A hesitant pause went through his body as he considered it. Ultimately, he chose to have her stick with the group. Even though it was wrong for them to be apart.
"If he knew, he wouldn't go," she told herself. "Tell him and make him stay."
In her heart, she knew that she could not do that either. Rick was his best friend. Rick needed Shane. And Shane would not turn his back on Rick, no matter what he'd said prior. He stayed to cover Rick's back. And now Carls.
She couldn't put herself out there to be rebuffed in favor of Rick. Her heart couldn't stand the thought.
Laini slinked back to Andrea's side. They fell into each other's comfortable silence. There were no words that needed to be said. They were the same in their misery. Unable to feel protected without their safety, neither was themselves.
The groups parted. Daryl led them back to the highway where some of their party still awaited their return.
While another small splinter turned tail to the other direction.
Andrea and she walked at the back of the group. They were slow moving and exhausted. Everyone huffed with exertion except their leader, Daryl, who continued to be annoyed by their pace. He would shake his head and stomp forward, muttering things to himself as he did.
It amused Andrea. She would crack a grin every time Daryl ruffled his feathers at their inability to keep up with him.
Laini felt nothing but torn apart. A piece of her heart was so resolute that Shane would not come back. He was gone, forever.
"I know what you're thinking," Andrea said after a long while of marching.
It pulled Delaney from her spiral. "What?"
"I saw the way you looked at me when I begged for my gun back."
"I get it now," she said swiftly. It earned her a lifted brow from the blonde. "I didn't then. But I do now. I understand."
Andrea stopped walking. She faced Delaney with a question on her features. "You going to kill yourself if Shane dies?"
She would not survive long enough to consider it. "Why? Would you stop me if I said so?"
"No."
"I wouldn't stay alive long after Shane anyway. It doesn't matter. He's the only thing keeping me alive."
The pair started walking again. They trailed the group a ways.
Andrea shook her head. "You don't need Shane to live."
A sarcastic snort exited her nose. "You're kidding."
"You don't. Shane is a comfort, but not a necessity."
They caught up to everyone else locked in a debate about what transpired. All their nerves and energy and emotions at the surface. Carol mentioned Amy, which only shoved Andrea back down inside herself, and Daryl was unhappy with being split further. No one thought to consider voicing their opinions back when Rick was there, so it really didn't matter what was said.
There was still a mile to go to get back to the interstate.
A sudden shot rang out. A gunshot echoed through their ears and rendered the conversation to nothing.
Lori voiced an opinion that neither Shane or Rick would waste a bullet on a lone walker. More so, why was it one shot?
Later, they found out why. A woman on a horse charged through the brush and asked for Lori. They all stood dumbfounded by another human – a young woman they'd never met – just showed up like it was common to see other people still, and announced that her son was gravely wounded. Lori jumped on the back of the horse without question.
They were all in shock. Carol's mouth hung open. Glenn's eyes were wide and far away in thought.
Daryl was the only one with his head in place. He reached over to Lori to pull her back down.
"We don't even know this girl," he cried. It fell to no avail.
The woman explained how to find their farm. Greene Farm.
Delaney did not know what to do. Carl's shot, Lori's gone to this farm, and mention of Shane was absent, but he was there. At the farm.
Dale insisted that she go to the farm with T-Dog. Glenn offered to help and go with, since T still battled some weakness and delirium. He's hot to the touch. Despite his assurances that he's fine.
"No. You're not fine. You've got an infection," Dale proclaims.
"Infection?" Daryl stomped over to his motorcycle. A black leather saddle bag on the back was pulled open. A large plastic bag full of pill bottles and other lose contents that did not look from a doctor's supply was revealed. "Why didn't you say something before now?"
No one would have thought the biker held antibiotics.
Laini wretched the top off the bottle. Her hands stuck two in T-Dogs mouth and trickled water down his throat. He barely managed to. "I hope these work."
Glenn and Laini support T into a truck they salvaged from the highway. It had enough gas to make it back a few miles to the Greene Family farm.
"What do you think this farm is like?' Glenn asked. His nerves were pulled taut. He jittered his fingers against the steering wheel since she could not drive stick.
Sweat poured from T's forehead. It was shiny and glistened. The day was hot. Humidity was thick. But, still, it was too much moisture to be lost.
"Drink some more," she urged him. "Please."
The man nodded and took a swallow again.
It soothed her worries, but not completely. Her mind wandered back to Shane. The sooner she made it back to him, the better. Right away, she was revealing her pregnancy. It would end all other separations if he knew she was so much more vulnerable.
"Maybe they have horses," she mused.
"I like horses." Glenn breathed in relief.
They arrived at the gate to their family farm. A metal gate blocked their way. It held a green sign that read 'Green Family Farm' with the outline of a chicken and a silo.
She hopped out to open the gate.
"Here. Take this." Glenn offered out a knife. It was not a long blade. "Just in case."
They were on their own. Their own vulnerability was not something she considered until now. Her hand clenched the knife in her palm as she exited the truck. The door slammed behind her.
Her jaw clenched tight as she pulled the gate behind her. It squeaked as it opened the dirt road onto the land.
Once Glenn passed through, he stopped the truck. She hurried to close the gate and jump back inside.
T-Dog talked about a family farm meaning they have more than one thing. "Probably got some chickens, some pigs, cows, maybe rabbits, some horses, too."
It put them both at ease to hear him talk. The medicine shouldn't have already taken effect, but it convinced Laini that he'd be fine.
They caught sight of the Greene Farm as they drove through a lovely long driveway. It pulled up to a huge white house, old and beautiful. Dusk was in full swing. The lights from inside the windows were brilliant through the dim.
A porch wrapped around the entire place overlooking the open clearing amongst the surrounding trees.
Glenn put the truck in place. Too suddenly. Delaney shot out her arms to catch herself before she slammed into the glove compartment.
"Sorry." He winced.
They got out of the truck and approached the oversized front door. Their dirt shoes rivaled the white of the porch. Laini felt guilty about tracking her mess on their nice porch. Though, if she was truthful, she did not care about it more than searching for Shane. She waited for him to exit the farmhouse to wrap her in an immediate hug.
Glenn and T debated whether to knock. Because? Who knew.
A throat cleared in a dark corner of the porch. They all startled.
"Close that gate up the road when you drove in?" The young woman asked.
The young man behind Laini's back sputtered with an answer until she finally turned to him in disbelief.
"Yes," he answered.
She rose off the rocking chair. "Well, come on inside. Your friends are just through here."
They followed like awkward sheep after a person with a bucket of grain. Their eyes roved over their surroundings: humble farmhouse décor, classic and beautiful but in a simple appreciation.
A four poster bed held a tiny body. The face was one they recognize, but as a mask, not one they knew. Carl's skin was pure white like porcelain. He laid still.
Lori and Rick were the same shade of pale. Rick, looking sickly and sweaty at the bedside. He held his son's hand. The brunette had her forehead in her hands as she sat on the other side, seemingly praying.
Shane was nowhere in sight.
Glenn gave a soft greeting.
Their eyes raised to them in the doorway. Both were washed in a deadened stare, if momentarily changed in warmth at their presence.
"Hey," they said.
"Where is everyone else?" Lori asked.
"They stayed behind to wait for Sophia," Glenn answered.
Laini swallowed. "We had to come. T got an infection in his cut."
Rick nodded. His face was sallow. It was less buoyant than when they had seen each other an hour prior.
She furrowed her brows. "How is Carl?"
"Not good," Lori responded. "We're waiting on Shane for supplies for Carl's surgery."
Her throat was taut. Tension and ice-cold fear climbed through her spine with exaggerated claws. Each bone shattered with its ascent. "He left?"
"He went with Hershel's man. Otis. They'll be back soon," Rick said quickly. "It is the only way to save Carl's life. He's got pieces of a bullet in him. There is no other way. We tried to remove them and he screamed so much…" Rick's voice broke.
She nodded. Her eyes welled up as she looked at the little boy.
"Shane will get them," she said aloud. "He won't stop until he does."
"We're losing time," Lori said.
There was nothing to say.
Whether Shane returned mattered to all of them. They could not afford to doubt it. Suddenly, Carl's fate was tied to hers with Shane.
They ducked out to give the family privacy. There was a young girl in the dining room when they entered the main parts of the house. Her hair was bright blonde. She gave a small smile. "Are you guys hungry? Thirsty?"
Glenn shook his head. So did T.
"He's lost a lot of blood." Laini gestured to T-Dog. "He probably needs some water."
The girl was more than happy to accommodate. She produced an actual glass of clear water. It was silly how they marveled over the running water in a house. And electricity.
The farmhouse was too normal for the times they lived in. It showed no mark of the plague outside their doors.
A man with white hair entered the room. His eyes were hard on the two men in front of him. The clean shave showed his frown lines very clear through his flesh. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows. The smallest smear of red was embedded in his nail beds.
"Are you the doctor, sir?" She asked. He did not respond except for the dip of his chin. "He's got a cut that's pretty deep. Do you have some glue?"
"My name's Hershel," the man proclaimed. His two hands waved them closer. T-Dog lifted his wound for inspection. The deep slope of Hershel's mouth did not seem promising as he appraised the jagged ripped edges of skin. "Oh, no. Glue won't do. This needs stitched. Patricia!"
A short woman with blonde hair tied back in a braid emerged. Her eyes narrowed at what Hershel observed. When she saw the extent of the damage, she rushed to get her kit.
"Down to the table," Hershel instructed.
He held onto T-Dog's arm. His thumb pressed deep into the tissue of T's bicep as he held it.
Patricia set a plastic box alongside the wound. She pulled multiple packages from it. They were pulled apart with the sterile supplies.
"Carl? Carl!" They heard Rick yell.
Lori flew into the room. "Hershel!"
They all stilled in the total silence. Their breaths not a sound above quiet as they listened. Hershel's voice carried through the walls. It revealed that Carl had a seizure and they couldn't wait too much longer for Shane.
Delaney's eyes filled with water again. She excused herself from the room.
The cool night air brushed against her hot skin. It did not calm the bubbling awful sensation all over.
She sniffed.
"Are you all doctors here?" She heard Glenn ask.
"Um, no." Patricia instructed T-Dog to take a deep breath and exhale when she said so. "I work with Hershel at the clinic."
"So you're nurse?"
"Of sorts," she answered softly.
The blonde girl emerged onto the porch. She gave a smile and introduced herself as Beth. Her desperation for conversation was irritating at first, but it gave a nice distraction. Part of the girl's innocence reminded Laini of her own younger sister. She allowed herself to be pulled into Beth's room to be showed a collection of things she liked.
The girl had to be a young teenager. Fifteen, maybe. The round pale eyes were filled with so much innocence that they were too difficult to view without some envy.
What Delaney wouldn't give to be the same kind of woman she was before it all happened.
"I am in college for graphic design," Laini revealed.
"Really?" Beth jumped onto her bed. "What was it like?"
"College?"
"Are there really people in the quad, all the time, like in the movies? Playing guitars or singing. I'm a really good singer. I sang every Sunday in church. In the choir."
Laini shrugged. "I never hung out in the quad. There were people there sometimes. But I never noticed if there were people playing music."
"Did you go to Georgia State? It's in the city."
"No." She shook her head. "University of Kentucky. You know, in Lexington."
The girl's eye shuttered with disbelief. "You're a long ways from home. What made you come down here?"
She took a breath in wait for a laugh or smile at the poor attempt at humor, and when none came, her eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?"
There was a knock at the door that jolted Laini's heart rate. Beth was calm. Her legs slipped down from the bed to cross the room.
An average boy with reddish brown hair popped his head in. He smiled in a charming way at the young girl until he caught sight of their audience. It slipped away with a blush burned across the tops of his cheeks.
"Yes, Jimmy?"
"Maggie said to get you. They're doing surgery on that boy," he said.
Laini's skin trembled. "Without the supplies? What if they kill him?"
"That guy with the dark hair. He came back from the FEMA outpost -."
"Where is he?"
"Downstairs…I think," Jimmy answered.
She flew down the massive wooden staircase. Her steps clobbered down, hurtling her forward.
Shane was there at the base. His eyes were glassy, dark. The slate of emotion was empty even as she threw her arms around him.
He shivered in her hold.
"You made it," she breathed in relief.
A teary-eyed Maggie appeared. The whites of her eyes were bright red. Her voice cracked as she offered him a shower. It was up on the second floor.
Shane hobbled up the stairs.
Laini paused. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," he replied flatly.
Something was off about Shane. He behaved strangely. Not like himself. There was no impact from their reunion. It was like he'd been swiped clean of his personhood, only a shell, a resident in his skin.
The farmhouse was full of commotion. Rick and Lori's voices carried up to the second story. Laini paced outside the bathroom door where Shane had wordlessly entered ten minutes before. She knew that Lori and Rick were hysterical in their grief and fear. Hershel barked orders at Patricia. They called for Maggie to assist; Beth followed not too long after.
All those noises, and yet she hadn't heard a whisper from within the bathroom. Not the clink of the toilet or the water of the shower or sink. Nothing.
She slipped inside the room.
Her knuckles knocked against the wooden door. "Shane?"
The man gripped the porcelain pedestal sink with both hands. His eyes stared into the mirror. Unblinking.
"Shane," she repeated against the rolling tide of her stomach.
It pulled him from his trance. He staggered a step back. "Lain."
She crossed her arms against her chest. It kept her heart from splitting the center of her body in two. Something changed in the man. It was startling, frightening.
"There is something I have to tell you. I can't hide it anymore," she said. The quivering in her voice was noticeable. She was tense, only tenser by his behavior.
He remained there. A blank slate, expressionless and devoid of anything remotely human. His arms hung at his sides. Eyes were wide, unfeeling. He swayed in his stance as if he was truly away from his body.
Her two hands pushed him to the toilet with gentle pressure until he seated steady. The behavior was unsteady enough – and she knew he'd fall on his ass when she told him the truth.
His eyes lulled away to behind her back.
She leaned forward. Both palms atop his knees. "Shane."
The volume startled him back to looking at her face. He showed a slight understanding that he was to listen.
Her lips released a final exhale. The calm before the storm.
"I'm pregnant."
He shuttered a slow blink. "Pregnant."
"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm going to have a baby."
The news shook him loose from whatever haunted daze he was in. His brows fell as he thought. "How-how do you know?" Gears caught in his head. Warmth filtered through the tissues of his face, lessening the pallid expression. "I mean, it ain't an exact science. You got that thing in your arm. You can't get pregnant."
"Dr. Jenner ran the rest. Twice," she explained stiffly.
Shane bobbed his head. He was silent, still absorbing it.
Her mind continued to toss its red flags in the air. No reaction from Shane Walsh was wrong – either it was too aggressive or too passionate, but never nothing.
She took a step back. Her body leaned against the sink. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong but he started before she could take a breath.
"I killed that man," he revealed under his breath. His head hung. "It was either him or me, and I picked me."
Her blood ran cold. The speed of her pulse tripled.
Oh no. No, no, no.
She reached through the shower curtains and twisted the squeaky knobs until water poured from the shower head. It gave some cover for their words.
"Otis? The man from this farm?" The man who shot Carl and did everything in his power to make it right.
She squatted between Shane's legs. His eyes were wide and red.
"I wasn't going to make it with my ankle. He could outrun me. And there were too many to lose with no ammunition." His hands grabbed the sides of her face with a soft touch. "I did what I had to do to make it back here."
A watery sheen overtook his eyes.
It was torture to watch the strength of Shane melt away before her eyes. Every thing that he was bled away to a broken piece of a man, shattered by what he'd done but nonetheless unashamed to reveal what he'd chose.
Sounds echoed up from down below. The voices of the family that took them in, were working tirelessly to heal Carl and comforting their woes was just under their feet.
They could not know. No one could. If the others learned what Shane did, they'd kick him out, or maybe kill him in retaliation. Or their group would be forced to leave.
There was no place to go. They were stranded and needed the help. The farm was an answer to their prayers – at the moment. It was too perfect to let go. Medical assistance. A place with water and food and electricity!
She pulled his shirt up over his head. "Hop in. You need to get cleaned up."
Pieces of him filled in the blank. He shed his pants. The splatters of blood on the pocket caught her eye. She stared at them a long time in the heap on the floor.
Carl would be dead without those supplies. Shane would be gone. She'd be all alone. No one to brave the world with.
She heard Otis was a good man, but he was not her man.
Shane let the water flow down his back. He stared at his toes. The silver chain swung, trickling streams of water dripped down from it to the drain. Water washed away the evidence of what he'd done. Done to survive. To save Carl and come home to their baby, to her.
She let herself bare away her sadness for Otis.
The living dead meant the death had to come to the living if it meant they'd survive. Death to their happiness, their innocence, the ignorance.
He exited the shower dripping wet and steaming. She grabbed a towel and patted him dry. Expression came back to his eyes when she'd finished running the towel down his legs. He shook his head.
"You ain't gotta baby me, baby," he said.
The return of his voice beat her heart into overdrive. "I don't mind."
"Come on." He grabbed her arms and glided her to standing. The water dripped from the dark ends of his hair. A light was back in his eye as his arms slithered around her back, cinching her tight against him, their flesh joined in sticky wet humidity. "You really carryin' my baby in you? You gonna make me a father."
Her breath caught. "I am."
A fiery kiss touched her lips. It pulled the breath from her chest as he pushed and pulled against her, in want of her mouth to accept him inside. She melted into his hold. The warmth of his skin against her, the stress of the day, the relief of him being back in her grasp again.
They let themselves get too carried away before they remembered what awaited outside that steamy haven.
Shane dressed into some spare clothes the farmhouse had lying around. He looked like a proper farm boy. She couldn't hide her amusement as he slipped his belt through the wide waist of the rundown pants. He buttoned his blue shirt up, with the last one left open to keep from choking him.
They traveled down to the main floor just as Hershel exited the room where Carl was kept.
"He's stabilized," the doctor announced.
The entire house exhaled a sigh of relief. The surmounted stress of the entire ordeal was so much to withstand. Lori and Rick, already tearful, cried into each other's open arms with glee. Glenn smiled. It was large and genuine.
Shane released a long breath from his chest. His eyes went to Patricia, who exited behind the doctor, with her hands still gloved and coated in blood.
"Oh," Rick's voice echoed. As if he realized.
Patricia looked so relieved and happy. Laini gave an incredulous look in Shane's direction. His gaze told her all she needed to: they needed her stable to save Carl.
They were complicit in her pain if it protected the ones they loved most. She, now, too, a monster of the world.