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Solace

Chapter 18

After the first gunshot, the muffled cracks continued in rapid succession. Panic rose in Rick's throat. He looked down at Judy, who surprisingly, continued to sleep. His mind raced through all the possibilities of what could be happening.

Not the Governor. That bastard's dead. Maybe some walkers found their way in?

He needed to figure out where those shots were coming from and get there right away, but he couldn't just leave Judy. Thankfully, at that very moment, Hershel appeared outside his cell.

"What's going on?" Rick exclaimed as he stepped out into the large room.

Hershel shook his head anxiously. "I don't know. I was coming to ask you the same thing!"

"Where are the shots coming from?" Rick asked, gun now in hand.

"It sounds like cell block D..." Hershel muttered.

Oh, God. "Carl's in there!"

"Go! I'll keep an eye on Judith," Hershel answered, but Rick was gone before he finished his sentence.

Rick sprinted down the hallway, yet was still careful as he came around corners – he didn't want to run straight into a group of walkers. He entered the cafeteria and discovered it empty. Lindsey was supposed to be in here. He had a fairly good idea where she was though. His stomach flipped so violently that he almost groaned out loud.

Like pulling the plug on a bathtub, suddenly people were streaming into the room, screaming hysterically. Rick pushed his way through the crowd. Relief washed over him when he caught sight of Lindsey. She had her Glock in one hand, the other guided people out the door.

"Have you seen Carl?" he shouted over the chaos around them.

Her eyes widened. "No, I didn't know he was in here. He must still be inside!"

Rick squeezed through the doorway and immediately lifted his gun as a walker lunged at the man next to him. The walker hit the ground in a splatter of bright red blood. These weren't decaying corpses, they were fresh – their own people. He had gone only a few feet when he came across a familiar-looking man gnawing on the arm of a dead woman. He yanked on the back of the man's shirt and pinned him to the floor with his boot. With one pull of the trigger, the man's head exploded. Rick grimaced and looked around wearily.

"DAD!" Carl yelled from nearby.

Rick's gaze shot up and he spotted his son leaning over the railing above him.

"Carl! Are you alright?" he asked with a raised hand.

Carl was visibly upset, which was understandable. He nodded and said, "But Patrick...Dad, behind you!"

The woman who had been gnawed on a moment ago was standing up and on top of Rick before he could react. She snapped at his face and he turned his head. Holding her off the best he could with one arm, he yanked out his knife and plunged it into the side of her head. He pushed her off and rolled to his feet.

As he stood, he saw that Lindsey was just shuffling out of a cell near the end, her knife leaving small droplets along the way. He peered around her and all he could see was a pair of tiny feet sticking out from under the privacy curtain. Rick went to rub his eyes and realized his hands were covered in blood. Gingerly, he touched the back of his wrist to his eyebrow.

With a sigh, he looked back up at his son. "What about Patrick?"

"He got bit, but he's still alive…" Carl mumbled.

Fuck. That could have been my boy.

Rick was quickly overwhelmed with shame. He shouldn't have been feeling relief. Carl was alive, but in exchange, a young boy was still minutes from dying.

He ascended the stairs and braced himself as he entered Patrick's cell. He proceeded to get down on one knee next to the cot. The kid was clearly in shock and didn't have much time left. When they first met Patrick, he’d come straight out and said that his family was gone. Rick hadn't spent a lot of time around him, but he'd promised to help the boy if he needed anything. Right now, Rick felt helpless. The only thing he could offer was comfort. The last thing he wanted was for Patrick to die alone. Firmly, he grasped the boy's hand with his own. A moment later, he was gone. Rick rested his forehead on the edge of the cot and willed himself to keep it together.

"Dad?" Carl whispered, his voice cracking.

Rick lifted his head and reached for his knife.

"Carl, don't look," he replied in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

Once it was done, they trudged out onto the walkway. Lindsey, and the man who presumably fired the first shots, were waiting for them. Rick shrugged his arms. "What the hell happened?"

The man – Rick thought his name was Devon – shook his head miserably.

“I have no fuckin’ idea. Everyone was doin’ chores or restin’, and then boom! There were walkers everywhere.”

“I counted thirteen dead. Patrick makes fourteen,” Lindsey stated. She looked so sad that Rick desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go.

“But what would make them turn?” he wondered aloud.

“Were they sick?” Carl interjected.

It was like a light bulb went on in Rick’s head. Everything from his conversation with Hershel that morning was clear as day. He started down the stairs and looked back at Devon. “Which one was Tracy’s?”

Devon looked bewildered. “Uh, the one on the end.”

Rick strode quickly in that direction and stopped when he saw that it was the cell Lindsey had exited earlier – the one with the child. It was starting to come together.

“Tracy brought her son to me this morning…symptoms of the flu…six total since then.”

Rick glanced at Lindsey, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“What is it, Rick?” Lindsey asked.

“Tracy’s son was sick…I’ve got to get to Hershel!” Rick called as he ran out of the room.


Lindsey was beyond confused. All she knew was that some people had come down with the flu and were dead by the end of the day. How was that even possible?

“Where is my dad going?” Carl asked her. Clearly, he was just as confused.

Oh, no. She didn’t know why it had taken her so long to form the connection.

“Beth,” Lindsey whispered.


Lindsey had always felt that laughing and crying could be contagious. She remembered that her best friend, Amanda, could make her laugh even when something wasn’t funny, just from merely listening to Amanda's laugh. The same could be said for crying. Yes, she considered herself a little too emotional sometimes, but that was what kept her alive. She loved fiercely and would do anything for the people she cared about. Unfortunately, that made the loss greater. It was slightly embarrassing that she could be so quick to tears, but there was no stopping it while listening to a grown man mourn over his fallen daughter. The raw agony in Hershel’s sobs made Lindsey feel like someone was ripping out her heart with their bare hands. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, all she could do was hold Carl.

The distant sounds of a truck engine and rumbling motorcycle rose above the man’s cries.

Holy shit. Not now!

Lindsey looked to the scene before her. Whatever sickness overcame Beth and the others caused blood to rupture through all the openings on their face – the girl was almost unrecognizable. A pool of dark liquid was spreading across the cold concrete from where Rick had stabbed her in the head.

Maggie shouldn’t see her sister like this.

She knew it probably didn’t matter. Maggie would want to see Beth for herself; to know that she was really gone. Rick stood from where he’d sat against the prison wall and she knew that he had heard the approaching vehicles. Wearily, he made his way toward the cell block door that led outside.

“Rick…” Lindsey called softly.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. As she walked across the room, she shook her head.

“Get a sheet and cover Beth. I’ll tell them. You need to be here for Hershel.”

He nodded, but as she turned away, he took a hold of her hand. With a light squeeze, it was as if he was trying to give her what little strength he had to help her with what she was about to do – it made her want to start crying all over again. She glanced at her injured finger and saw it was still wrapped tightly in a – now grubby – bandage. She almost couldn't believe that that incident had happened only this morning.

Lightly, she rubbed his hand with her thumb and then let go. As she walked through the door, she tried to focus on the task ahead of her, but there was no way to prepare for something like this.

Notes

Obviously this chapter was inspired by S4E02, but I got the idea for a flu breakout before the season even started. Back in September 2013 (when I wrote this) it wasn't so hard to kill off Beth, but now I feel pretty emotional about it since it actually happened on the show. Please don't hate me for keeping it in here!

Hope you all had a lovely holiday! :)

Comments

@Corall
Aw thank you so much!! :D

bluecrush611 bluecrush611
5/18/16

I just finished reading this story :) and its the most amazing story ever :D

Corall Corall
5/17/16

@Kandy
No worries. I actually used Paint, haha. I just figured out what size the banner needed to be (by trial and error) and then cut the image down until it fit.

bluecrush611 bluecrush611
4/13/16

@bluecrush611

Also, Another Annoying Question. Where did you make that Banner of Lauren And Andrew? I need to get a good Banner place thingy and i need advice xD

Mother Dick Mother Dick
4/12/16

@Walker Witch
Thank you so much for the kind words and for following along!

@eventualprocrastination
Thanks for all of your comments! I actually just published a book, so that's the direction I'm taking for now, but who knows. Maybe I'll post something here and there. :)

bluecrush611 bluecrush611
4/10/16