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The Hunter Within

Sick

Sophie’s heartbeat thumped loudly in her own ears as the world around her slowed to an excoriating pace. Everyone seemed to be torn between the new arrivals and the now one-less-limp Hershel that lay unconscious before them. Daryl was yelling with the group, questions bouncing back and forth as Sophie worked to tighten the belt around the old vet’s bloody stump. There was blood pooling around her knees, the warm liquid soaking through the worn material.
“Rick, he’s bleeding out,” She spoke under the strain of keeping the belt tight. She looked to where Maggie was looking on in horror, her features pale as she threatened to slip into shock. “Maggie. Maggie. I need to you to hold the belt so I can put pressure on the wound.”
Daryl was still talking to the newcomers as Maggie slowly dropped to her knees, taking the leather strap off Sophie. She held onto it for a moment, making sure that Maggie had the weight of it before turning to the open wound. Sophie dared to glance at the group of men behind her, studying their jumpsuits as Glenn bravely pushed passed them in search of medical supplies. There was a desperate chorus of moans pushing against the thick, steel walls that T leant up again, keeping the dead from entering.
Sophie’s eyes drifted to her open palms, where Daryl’s rag had been wrapped around her wound hastily. Blood threatened to stain her worn hands, not entirely her own. Slowly, Sophie raised a hand to pull at the ends of her freshly cut her, the strands barely brushing her shoulders. Her breathing started to quicken at the memory, at the close call. She had been in some sticky situations on the road before, but nothing had shaken her like being held captive by the dead.
It was only when Sophie felt pressure on her shoulder that she snapped back to the task ahead, looking up to see Glenn staring down at her, offering a ratty old shirt. She grabbed at the material and pushed any thought of earlier from her mind, concentrating on securing the makeshift bandage around the elderly man’s bloody stump.
“Get the table.” Rick barked at Glenn, tearing his eyes from the prisoners. “Come on, we gotta go now.”
Sophie watched as the men worked to lift Hershel’s dead weight off the ground and onto up onto a stainless steel trolley, one that was probably once used for food. Time seemed to stop for a moment as Rick turned to nod at T, ready to rush out the door as he opened it. From her position beside the wound, Sophie looked back at Daryl who was still trailing the prisoners with his crossbow. He nodded at her ever so slightly, a silent answer to her just as silent are you okay?
The new men were begging for the door to be left closed as T ignored them and backed up, working at killing the first rotter that pushed through the entrance. As Sophie clung to the edge of the trolley and pushed forward time seemed to speed up again, the seconds passing just as quickly as the blood from the older man’s leg as they navigated through the tombs.
They rushed almost blindly ahead, Rick being the only one who was really keeping track of where they were going. Everyone was yelling, urging each other through the darkness. Sophie couldn’t help but let her eyes continuously meet the bleeding wound by her hand. You need to be strong, she swallowed her tears as Rick backed everyone up, yelling at Daryl to dispose of the rotter that stumbled across their path.
Sophie listened to the familiar twang, followed by the sound of flesh hitting the hard ground before the group pushed forward, narrowly dodging the body. Daryl started yelling directions from ahead, pausing to let them pass as he kept a lookout. Not for rotters, Sophie realised as she passed, for prisoners.
“Stop, stop, stop.” Rick murmured, pulling the trolley to a halt. Everyone fell silent, listening out for what Rick had heard. Daryl pointed his flashlight in the direction of the voices. As their leader pushed the panicked group forward once again, the newcomers followed almost curiously, their footsteps threating upon them as Rick urged the group onward. Daryl hung back, his crossbow trailing the direction of the noise.
He whistled softly, flinging a set of keys in Glenn’s direction as they approached the first barred door. Sophie gripped at the rag wrapped around the vet’s wound, soaked through with blood. They were met with even more yelling as Rick pleaded with Carl to open the door. When they pushed through, Sophie caught sight of the horror that settled on Beth’s face, the way her eyes tried to meet her sister’s own as the others braced to lift the man from the cool steel.
“Get him on the bed.” Rick barked as the carried the dead weight into one of the cells before turning to answer the question on everyone’s lips. “He got bit.”
“Did you cut it off?” Lori raised an eyebrow as they placed Hershel onto the bed. Sophie worked at pulling the sheets from the top bunk before pushing through the crowded cell to work at applying pressure to the leg.
“We need more bandages,” Sophie spoke to nobody in particular as Rick nodded to his wife. She peeled the bloody material from the stump, her eyes only leaving the mess to watch how the others reacted to the sight. It’s as bad as it looks, Sophie tore her eyes away from them, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.
“Carl, go get the towels from the back,” Lori spoke after a moment. “Right next to my bed. Go!”
The cell fell silent as Sophie took the weight of the wounded leg and raised it above the heart level in hopes of slowing the bleeding. Behind her, Beth was crying in Lori’s arms, asking the question that nobody really knew the answer too. Is he going to die?
“Can you stabilize him?” Rick almost whispered as he dropped down beside Sophie. Her blood covered hands struggled to grip at the vet’s thigh as she considered the question.
“I need…” She huffed under the weight before turning to Carol. “I need pillows or something. We gotta keep his leg elevated.”
“He’s already bled through the sheets,” Maggie observed. Sophie was pressing the material to the open wound with her shoulder as she kept the leg raised, blood already warm and sticky against her shin.
“We can burn the wound to clot the blood.” Glenn offered as Sophie cursed herself internally. This has to work… “I can start a fire.”
“No!” Sophie stopped him as Beth begged with anybody who was listening. She chewed at her lip as she remembered back to Atlanta, to Merle. That was different, she realised, a smaller limb, a younger man. “The shock could kill him… It won’t stop the main arteries from bleeding. We just have to keep pressure on it, let the body do its own healing.”
Sophie glanced up as someone offered her more towels. Her eyes met Maggie’s for a moment, not oblivious to the way the girl had begun backing out of the cell, her face paling as the adrenalin begun to wear off. Sophie forced her eyes back to the task, trying to ignore the others watching her intently as a high-pitched ringing in her own ears seemed to steal away her hearing. The air was thick with the smell of blood and panic, making it hard to breath.
“What was that?” Beth’s curious voice brought her back, her heart beating loudly as she listened out for what she had missed. There was yelling, the voices both familiar and unfamiliar.
“Prisoners, survivors.” Rick spoke with a rough voice; his eyes met Sophie’s for a moment before he disappeared from the cell, Glenn following suit. “It’s alright, everyone stay put.”
Everyone’s eyes were glued on Hershel as voices danced back and forth out in the foyer. Nobody made a move as Glenn leant back against the door, except Sophie, who turned to meet his eye. Her glance caught on the small pistol he was working to conceal before she turned to make sure neither of the Greene girls had seen. Sophie nodded softly, knowing that Glenn was still gauging her reaction as she looked back to the unconscious man before them. Just in case.
The voices eventually died away, the conversation finishing with the closing of the metal doors. Sophie tried to ignore the way her heart beat loudly against her chest, shoving any thought of Daryl out of her mind. He is the least of your worries, she huffed, absentmindedly reaching for her messy braid.
“You got a haircut?” Carol mused, trying to lighten the mood as Sophie's hand fell on empty air. She sighed to herself before nodding, feeling a little guilty for being so frustrated with missing hair.
“Courteous of Dixon Dressers.” She tried to smile back, the action feeling more forced than natural.
“It has to stop eventually, right?” Lori whispered, watching as Sophie replaced the bloody towel for a fresh one, dumping it on the pile. “It’s already slowed down quite a bit.”
“If we can get him through this-”
“When,” Sophie mumbled, cutting Carol off, looking back at the girls that leant against the back wall. She blinked back the threatening tears as she studied the older man’s face. It has to be when.
When we get him through this…” Carol corrected. “We’ll need crutches.”
“For now we could really use some antibiotics, painkillers, sterile gauze…” Sophie raised an eyebrow, her words coming out much more bitter than she intended.
Lori just nodded, looking to the man for a moment. “There’s gotta be an infirmary here.”
“If there’s one, we’ll find it.” Carol agreed as Sophie pulled back the towel to assess the wound. Lori had been right in saying that the bleeding had slowed, the blood only decorating the inside of the cloth, rather than consuming the whole thing. “You’ve got to be worried about delivering the baby.”
“Do I look worried?” Lori’s smiled looked about as forced as Sophie’s felt.
Beth muttered something about being right back as Carol told the other lady how disgusting she looked, another attempt to lighten the mood. Lori took the bait, letting out a breathy laugh as Maggie made a move to follow her sister out of the cell.
Sophie’s eyes drifted up to the unconscious man’s face, his weathered and wrinkled skin almost looking smooth under the unburdened sleep. For the millionth time since the day they had met, Sophie let herself find the familiarities the older man shared with her father, a tear rolling down her filthy face as the last memories she shared with her father came crashing over her, breaking like an angry sea against her exhausted mind.

“Dad,” Sophie whispered as she made her way through the abandoned building, clutching at the food she had found in her upstairs neighbour’s kitchen. They had split up in search of food, promising to meet back at the apartment in an hour. She looked at her watch again. Fifteen minutes late.
At the stairwell, Sophie gently dropped her findings to the ground and stepped through the door to stand at the top of the stairs. Without another word she crept down them, listening out as she came to stand on the fourth story, peering out into the hallway.
“Dad?” She spoke louder, feeling like a broken record. The world around her was silent as she turned for the next flight of stairs, swallowing her fear as her feet brushed against the cement. On the third floor, doors were open along the hallway, belongings littering the carpeted ground.
The scent of death hit Sophie as she stepped into the corridor, sending tears pricking at her nose. She coughed at the smell, her lungs working to reject the foul air. As made a move to turn back to the stairs, taking her search elsewhere, her head snapped towards a noise from down the hall. She rushed nervously in its direction, listening as someone groaned.
She rounded the already opened door to meet a scene of bloody and struggle. Belongings had been thrown around the room, tables flipped and a kitchen knife used to pierce the skull of a rotting corpse. Sophie scanned the room for the source of the noise, her heart beating loudly against her chest as a moan called out from the apartment bathroom.
With a shaky foot, Sophie stepped towards the other room, pausing only to retrieve a knife, discarded on the floor. She gripped at it nervously, ignoring the smell of death that seemingly plagued the room around her as she reached out to push open the door slowly.
“Dad?” She spoke more clearly, abandoning her knife to rush to her father’s side. He was bent over the sink, a bloody hand gripping at one of the taps. “Dad, the water isn’t working, remember? Dad…?”
Sophie reached out to touch the older man’s shoulder, her eyebrows pulling together when he didn’t answer. He jumped at the connection, the fright enough to steal his breath as he spun to face her. As his eyes met her and recognition took over, Sophie couldn’t help but notice the blood that decorated his shirt.
“Soph.” He murmured, his eyes darting away for a moment as he collected his bearings. “One of them came at me… I had too…”
Sophie just nodded, thinking back to the knife sticking from the eye socket of the dead in the kitchen. “I know, it’s okay.”
Her father let her lead him from the tiny bathroom and out into the hallway. His face was paling, his wrinkled hands shaking. Sophie smiled softly as she guided him back towards the stairwell. She had found enough food to last them a day and a half, to give him enough time to settle.
“Wait, Soph,” He spoke suddenly, coming to a stop. “I found food in the apartment next to it, I left it in the lounge.”
Sophie considered it for a moment, her growling stomach making the decision for her. With a silent request to stay put, Sophie ducked back down the hallway, leaving her father at the base of the stairs. The years had been kind to him, despite his greying hair and the loss of Josh; but since her mother had died, he had taken on a fragile form, like he could fall apart at any moment.
She quickly passed the dead body, surveying the cluttered lounge room for any sight of food. The almost neat pile sat on the entertainment unit, next to where a TV would have once resided. Scooping up the boxes, Sophie’s eye caught on the photo frame that lay abandoned at her feet. Leaning over to collect it, she half-heartedly positioned it where her father had left the food, stopping for a moment to study the cracks that kept the picture from view. Lifting a careful hand, Sophie’s intention of removing the broken glass was cut short by a deep, pleading scream.
Without a second thought, she dropped the contents in her arm and rushed out into the hallway. Sophie’s eyes snapped to the body that dropped to her father’s feet, to the way his breathing hitched and his panicked eyes met her own, the way his lips formed her name without sound, but finally, the bloody bite that adorned his bicep.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Sophie. She turned slowly to find Carl staring down at her almost proudly, a bag clutched tightly in his arms.
“I thought you were organising the food.” Glenn frowned, looking up from his pocket watch. Sophie wasn’t sure what he had been timing, but he had been staring at it for longer than she could have handled.
“Even better.” The kid smirked, dropping the contents of the bad onto the dirty floor. Sophie’s eyes followed the clutter, taking in the array of sterile bandages and medication. “Check it out!”
“Carl!” Sophie almost laughed, leaning over to scoop up as many bandages as she could hold with one arm. Her other arm stayed gripping at Hershel’s thigh, her shoulder applying the pressure. “You’re a lifesaver, buddy.”
The kid beamed proudly as Sophie nodded at Maggie to help her apply the bandages. The other girl had calmed down, her cheeks managing to hold colour as she watched on.
“Where did you get this?” Lori pressed, her voice plagued with worry.
“Found the infirmary.” Carl shrugged, handing Maggie some more bandages. Sophie shot her friend a quick glance, both of them knowing all to well what would follow Carl’s bravery. Or foolishness, Sophie almost shrugged, depending on whether or not you’re his mother. “Wasn’t much left, but I cleared it out!”
“You went by yourself?”
Carl frowned, looking at the others in the group as he nodded. “Yeah.”
Lori took in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. Sophie turned away, feeling very much like a kid whose friend was about to be scolded by his mother at a sleepover. “Are you crazy?”
“No big deal.” Carl scoffed, his chest puffing proudly. “I killed two walkers!”
The mother looked to the others, as if for backup as she mumbled something contradictory about two walkers. “Do you see this? This was with the whole group!”
“We needed supplies, so I got them!” Carl huffed as if it were obvious. Behind them, Glenn shuffled on his feet uneasily and Sophie shot a glance at Beth, who watched on with as much embarrassment as she seemed too.
“I appreciate that but-”
“Then get off my back!” The boy cut his mother off. The others in the cell seemed to freeze where they were, silence suddenly consuming them all. Sophie wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“Carl!” Beth was the one to finally break the silence, her eyes determined as she stepped up to tell the kid off when Lori didn’t. It takes a village, Sophie mused from her sunken position. “She’s your mother, you can’t talk to her like that.”
Sophie watched the betrayal that seemed to seep onto the boy’s features as Lori sighed and reached for his hand. “Listen, I think it’s great that you want to help but-”
Her sentence was cut short as the boy turned on his heels and ran from the cell, his footsteps scuffing along the dusty cement for a moment, trailing into the cell down the end. Sophie listened out for the classic misunderstood teenager way he would throw himself onto the single mattress, managing to bite back the small smile that accompanied the sigh of the rusty springs as he did just that.
The world fell silent as she pretended to further fuss over the bandages, pulling at the ends awkwardly for a moment. It was Carol that finally broke the silence, musing about how the bandages would help prevent any infection.
Hope they’re up to the battle.” Sophie laughed, raising an eyebrow to the layer of dirt and who-knows-what-else that surrounded them.
“We’re lucky he had you to teach.” Glenn clapped her on the shoulder comfortingly, stepping forward into the cell. “That he taught you all this stuff.”
Sophie smiled thankfully, nodding to the young man as Carol stood to look at him. “He didn’t teach her everything, I need your help with something.”
The group looked to Carol, all eyebrows pulling together as Glenn frowned. “Now?”
“Yeah, now.”
“What is it?” Sophie frowned as well, looking up from her now relaxed position. The bandages were working to keep the pressure, giving Sophie’s shoulder a well-earned rest.
The older woman’s eyes flickered to where Lori sat, a slight shake playing at her head as she lowered her voice. “Not here.”
“I can’t leave Hershel.”
Carol almost sighed impatiently, raising her eyebrows as if to reinforce her point. “It’s important.”
“I can’t, Carol.” Glenn did sigh impatiently. “Rick said-”
“Just go,” Sophie spoke before he could finish, eyeing off the gun that he had tucked under the waistband of his pants. She knew why it was there, what responsibility would fall on her if Glenn left. “We’ll take care of things here.”
Glenn studied the serious look on her face before shaking his head stubbornly; crossing his arms as if doing so would cement his decision.
“We’ll be fine,” Beth spoke up, offering the young man a reassuring nod. She had calmed down from the initial shock of seeing her father’s bleeding, unconscious body being wheeled in from the tombs to take on the most hopeful demeanour, already ducking away to refurbish her father’s pants.
“We’re not going to be gone long.” Carol stepped forward and Glenn held his ground.
“Rick said for me too-”
“We’re fine.” Maggie cut him off, raising an eyebrow at her partner expectantly. He considered arguing once more, the determination in his eyes flaring for a moment, only to be replaced with a sense of sadness as he let the older lady led him from the room. Sophie bit back a smile that threatened her lips as she turned to Maggie, who was standing with an almost smug look on her face.
Her smile faded as she looked back to the weak rise and fall of Hershel’s chest. We’ll be fine, she repeated Beth’s words, willing for them to be true.
“I’ll be back,” Sophie whispered, checking over the bandage once more before rising to her feet. She gripped the bed frame, testing her feet before shuffling out into the open foyer, breathing in the dusty air as she looked to the sun that fought through the grimy windows above.

She burst through her front door in a mess of tears, her dad’s skin hot against her own. He groaned as she lowered him down onto the couch, wincing at the pain Sophie couldn’t feel. Pausing for a moment, unwilling to leave him, she tracked through her tiny apartment in search of her first aid kit.
As she pulled open the doors of her vanity unit, Sophie began throwing her own artefacts out onto the floor. Spare toothbrushes, shampoo’s and conditioners littered the tiles as her hand brushed the red material bag that held her small collection of medical supplies.
It’s not going to be enough, Sophie realised as she came to kneel beside her father, unzipping the first aid bag to expose an array of Band-Aids, small bandages and alcohol wipes. She could feel her father's gaze on the side of her face, waiting for her to do something.
“I’m…. I’ve got to go get something.” She stuttered, searching her memories for the faces of her neighbours, for anyone that might have something to help. Whatever that something is.
“Soph.” He caught her hand as she went to leave, shaking his head gravely. “You gotta… You gotta cut it off, Soph. That’s the only way.”
Sophie stared at her father wide-eyed, blinking in the words, trying to decode any alternative meaning. Her breath hitched in her chest, her heart beating relentlessly against her rib cage. “Cut it… Off?” She whispered, testing the idea as her father worked to unbuckle his belt. No, no, no, no…
The world seemed to slow down, moving at an excoriatingly slow pace as he fixed the belt tightly around his shoulder. Sophie stayed rooted where she was, too scared to move. Her eyes darted around the apartment, what are you even going to use?
“Dad,” She whispered, watching him pull the belt tight and pull out his handkerchief. Beads of sweat started to line his brow. “Dad!”
He turned to her with wide eyes, the deep green within them turning soft as he took in the sight of his daughter, desperate for any kind of direction. “Do you have an axe?”
She frowned, shaking her head.
“There was one downstairs, in the stairwell.”
Sophie could hear her pulse, the thumping in her ears making it hard to concentrate as she backtracked out her front door and down the stairs. She felt sick in the pit of her stomach like somebody had punched her, knocking all the wind from her lungs. As her feet touched down onto the third story, Sophie’s eyes scanned the mess of objects that lay within range of the door, her eyes racking over the red handle that stuck up from a pile of clothes. She reached out hopefully, breathing a sigh of relief as the head of the axe followed the handle.
Her moment of relief washed away as Sophie realised what she now had to do. With uneasy feet, she pulled herself up the stairs and towards where her father would be waiting. As Sophie ran down the hallway for her apartment, she caught sight of the axe head once more, thankful that it was still relatively clean.
Time stood still once more as she burst through the door. Her father was no longer on the couch, but squirming against the floor, as if he couldn’t get comfortable. He looked up at her with pleading eyes and just nodded acceptingly. He didn’t say anything, and Sophie wasn’t sure if he could. Sophie took a shaky step forward and tried to swallow her fear as she gripped at the axe. He needs you; she wanted to cry as she raised the axe back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting her father’s once more.
He nodded again, a silent I love you playing at his lips as she took in a deep breath to settle herself. Involuntarily, she thought of all the firewood she had chopped over the years on the farm. You can’t mess this up; she scolded herself as she squeezed her eyes closed and let the axe swing in an all too natural movement.

“Maggie! Do something!” Beth’s shrill voice broke Sophie from her silent tears. She turned to the noise, her eyebrows pulling together as she watched Maggie back up towards the cell entrance. The world seemed to speed up as Sophie crossed the cement floor to come face to face with Beth’s desperate eyes. “Sophie, you have to help! You have to do something. He isn’t… He isn’t breathing!”
Sophie nodded, rushing over to Hershel’s side, her eyes darting over the limp body. There was no movement, his chest absent of the rise and fall that his breath would bring. Sophie lowered her head to the older man’s chest as Lori rushed in, grabbing at a crying Beth as Sophie held her breath and listened for a heartbeat.
“No, no, no.” Sophie cried as she was met with only silence. She panicked for a moment, her hands outstretched as she collected her scattered thoughts. Out of instinct, her hands found the middle of the vet’s chest, the girls behind her begging with nobody in particular as Sophie started compressions. Using her own body weight, she pumped at his chest, counting each one under her breath in an attempt to keep herself sane. Seven, eight, nine, ten, she counted, her eyes glued to Hershel’s face. Another soft set of footsteps slipped into the cell silently as Sophie groaned under the pressure of the compressions. Twenty-nine, thirty.
Sophie took in a deep breath before pressing her lips against Hershel’s open mouth in order to deliver two breaths, looking down his chest for any signs of life between them. With no success, she launched back into compressions, her muscles complaining under the intense movement as she pushed harder. “Come on, come on! Stay with us!”
In the fleeting moments between compressions and the next two rescue breaths, Sophie shot Lori a pleading look. The girls were slipping into a panic, and if Sophie wasn’t successful, there was no way that Hershel would want his daughters last memory of him to be watching Sophie’s knife slip through one of the soft openings into his skull. It would fall on the older lady to get them out as quick as possible, for Sophie to dispose of him without the audience.
Lori nodded frantically as Sophie turned for the first breath, delivering the burst of second-hand oxygen. As she went in for another breath, a pair of hands grabbed at the back of her head, pulling her closer to the mattress. Sophie’s breath caught in her throat at the sudden movement, every fibre of her being trying to flee from the bedside.
She cried out desperately as the man overpowered her. Panic consumed the room as frantic hands grabbed at her waist and arms, pulling her back from Hershel’s grip. Sophie’s arms flung up in front of the Greene girls as she regained herself, her breathing coming shallow and quickly as she caught sight of the elderly man’s opened eyes.
Time stood still as his eyelids drifted closed and his head fell back onto the pillow. Sophie’s eyes snapped to the way his chest begun to rise and fall as he started breathing again. Nobody moved as if by doing so the breathing would stop again. Sophie’s heart beat against her chest, a lump forming in her throat.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Sophie lowered her arms and turned to face the girls, her eyes catching Carl’s figure as she did. His arms were extended, an aimed pistol sitting in his shaky hands as he watched on with wide eyes. Without a word, Sophie placed a soft hand on the barrel and lowered it to the ground, offering the young boy an encouraging nodded.
“I need a moment.” She barely whispered, her breath still quite shallow, as she looked back at Hershel once more, happy that he was safe for now. As she ducked out of the cell, Glenn was coming through the barred door from the foyer. He met her eyes for a moment, reregistering the dread and exhaustion there before rushing into the crowded cell.
Sophie lowered herself onto one of the steps and buried her head in her bloody hands. Closing her eyes, she worked at calming her breathing before studying the bloodstains that resided on her weathered hands; the deep cut that split the soft skin of her right palm.
“You okay?” A soft voice pressed. Sophie looked up through tear filled eyes to see Glenn peering down at her curiously. His eyes were genuine as he sat down beside her. “What you just did…”
“Anybody would have done the same.” She sniffed, forcing herself to smile at the young man as he wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders.
“Yes.” He mused, looking towards the cell. “But that doesn’t mean what you did wasn’t saving someone’s life.”
Sophie just nodded, honestly too exhausted to be humouring anybody. The last two days had drained her both mentally and physically. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed them since they sat around the fire, listening to Beth sing.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” He spoke again; he frowned for a moment before pulling himself to his feet and lowering his voice. “But Carol wanted too... She wanted to practice doing a C-section.”
Chewing at her lip, Sophie considered the notion with an accepting nod. With Hershel out of action and Lori already delivering Carl by C-section, it was probably a smart move on Carol’s behalf. Glenn took his leave then, fleeing back to the cell to be by Maggie’s side, leaving Sophie with her own thoughts, long buried and taking advantage of her fragile state.

Sophie sat by her father’s side, holding a third blood soaked bed sheet to his bloody stump. She had left him for a moment to collect any linen she could find, but she was going through material faster than she could find it.
Her whole body was warm. Her legs and torso covered in thick blood, her hands marked bright red and her cheeks stained with tears. Sophie’s father was barely breathing, his chest rising weakly under strained breaths. She reached out for his wrist, his pulse as weak as his breathing.
“Please,” She whispered through the tears, stroking his forehead with a shaky hand. The sun was beginning to set, the world around her growing increasingly darker as she pleaded with her father. “I can’t lose you too…”
As if he had heard, the older man sputtered, his eyes flickering open. They searched the roof above him for a moment, his mouth hanging slightly open as they met her own. She bit back a relieved sob as he reached up with an unsteady hand. Sophie took it in her own and kissed the warm skin as he groaned with the slightest movement, his unmedicated state wearing on his open wound.
Checking the stump, Sophie made a quick swap of materials, bundling the fourth sheet to his arm as he watched on with indifference. She studied his movement’s careful, worry plaguing her features as he moaned once more. “I don’t know how to stop the bleeding.”
He just sighed, nodding his head as he relaxed it against the rug beneath him. Sophie reached out to feel his forehead, noting that he was only getting warmer. “Can you open a window?” He managed with a gruff, weak voice.
Sophie just nodded, pulling herself up from the bloody floor to crack the window adjacent from his struggling form. The outside air wasn’t much cooler, but he seemed to relish in the fresh air. As she crossed the floor, her father reached out with his good hand and motioned for her to join him on his whole side. She eyed off the secured wound and opted to sink down beside him, her face only inches from his own.
“Your mother and I always wanted to be buried on the farm… With Josh.” He mused groggily, not looking at Sophie.
Her heart leapt in her chest at the idea, at the thought of her mother, lying abandoned on the road. They had tried time and time again to leave the city, to go back for her, but each turn was met by a mass of the dead. “We’ll get her there.”
“No.” Her father sighed after a moment. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Soph, or mom. I want you to leave the city.”
“Dad…”
“You are they only thing I have left in this world.” He turned to look at her, wincing at the pain. “I’m going to miss you, but I don’t want to see you anytime soon.”
Sophie frowned at his words, propping herself up to look him in the eye. “What are you talking about? I’m not… I’m not leaving you…”
A single tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek as he reached up to touch her face. “We have always been so proud of you. You’re a strong girl, you can beat this.”
We can beat this.”
“No,” He whispered again after a moment of consideration. “No, it’s already beaten me, Soph. You need to leave. You need to find a group, there has to be someone left, and you have to live. Promise me that?”
“Dad…”
“Promise me, Sophie Lewis,” He spoke in an almost harsh tone, the exact words that he would have said to her growing up, whenever she got in trouble. “I want you to live. Not just survive. Live. I need you to promise me.”
“No, I don’t want you-“
“Stop being stubborn and just do it!” He cried. Sophie had only seen her father cry a few times in her lifetime. Once when Josh died, and once again when her mother died. It was a notion that made her uncomfortable, that filled her heart with dread.
She nodded, mostly in shock than actually meaning it. “I promise.”
“Good.” He sighed, suddenly at ease. “I’m sorry I have to leave you, baby. The day you were born, I promised your mother that I would never let anything happen to you...”
“Then stay…” She spoke so quietly that she wasn’t even sure he had heard.
Her father laughed softly, wincing at the pain that followed. “We should have gone home.”
“We still can…”

“No, Soph.” Her father sighed sadly. “I think it’s time I caught up with your brother. It’s been a while.”
“Daddy…” She whispered, feeling like a child again. It felt like it was her first day of school all over again, like he was standing at her classroom door, leaving her to a day of the unknown. Except this day will never end…
He just nodded almost contently as he touched the strands of her hair, smiling at her lovingly. “I’ll tell him you said hi? Your mother too.”
She just shook her head, digging her nails into the palm of her hands, willing herself to wake up. This is just a dream, she wanted to cry, it has to be. Her father just nodded groggily as he closed his eyes. Sophie watched the rise and fall of his chest desperately, pleading internally for a miracle. The breaths became shallower before her eyes and when the next one never came, Sophie released a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding and collapsed against her father’s chest.
She leapt into resuscitation, desperately thumping against his chest. Her eyes darted between his face and the blood-soaked sheet that bandaged his arm. Breathing into his mouth, Sophie cursed herself, cursed the world, before throwing herself into more compressions. She couldn’t be entirely sure how long she worked at trying to save her father, but it was completely dark by the time the tears completely consumed her. There was a chorus of moans calling out from the street, shuffling after anything that moved. They served as a reminder, leaving Sophie with a sense of realisation, knowing what she had to do.
Her father was going to come back. At that notion, she leapt to her feet and rushed to the still open front door. She slammed it with all the pent up frustration she could manage and rummaged through the bag that sat beside it, ready for a quick escape. As her hand brushed the cool surface of her father’s pistol, Sophie’s heart stopped, a single moment threatening to break her resolve. She shoved the image of her brother, lying broken and bloody on his bedroom floor aside and turned to the limp figure on the floor. Checking that it was loaded, Sophie crossed the floor and aimed the gun at her father’s forehead.
He was peaceful, his weathered face smoothed from the burdens that this world had lain upon his shoulders. She knelt by his head and kissed his still warm forehead softly, hoping that he had found the others in whatever life came after this shitty one, before pressing the barrel against the middle of his forehead.
Sophie squeezed her eyes closed and the trigger along with it, flinching at the menacing sound that filled the silence around her. As the sound died away, tears poured from her eyes. She scooped her father’s mangled body up into her arms and held it close. For the second time in her twenty-three years of life, Sophie found herself sitting in a pool of a loved one's blood, a gunshot ringing through her ears as she lost herself to a mess of tears and pleas.

“He stopped breathing, but Sophie saved him.” A soft, childish voice spoke quickly, the sound of her name bringing her back to the present. Sophie looked up to see Rick staring at her with heavy eyes, he nodded a silent thanks at her, so slight that Sophie couldn’t even be sure that she had seen it.
She forced a smile as Glenn spoke in agreement to Carl, offering her his own thankful glance. Sophie just smiled half heartedly, her eyes snapping to the clutter of the outer door, watching intently as Daryl worked to unlock the second door, crossbow slung over his shoulder.
He eyed her off curiously as he closed it behind him, adjusting the weight on his shoulder as he took in her bloody figure. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she threatened to fall apart under his questioning gaze. The hunter’s eyes zeroed in on her and he took a rushed step in her direction, eyebrows pulling together as his eyes darted to the crowded cell.
“Daddy?” A single word stopped him in his tracks and Sophie’s breath in her throat. Maggie’s voice seemed to hang in the air as the rest of the world fell silent.
“Daddy!” Beth spoke much more excitedly as a soft moan accompanied a round of relieved laughter from inside the crowded cell.
Sophie looked to Daryl nervously, her eyes wide as he nodded in confirmation from his vantage point, telling her that everything was okay. She nodded to herself, her breath coming back to her in relieved waves as an exhausted laugh escaped her lips. Standing nervously, Sophie made no attempt to move. She gripped at the stair support, feeling uneasy on her own legs as the others retreated for the cell, giving the Greene’s a moment alone.
Rick looked to her awaiting figure, suppressing a relieved smile that threatened to break through. We’re not out of the woods yet, something nagged at her deep down. As the others exchanged relieved words, Sophie found herself drifting up the stairs, desperate for the solitude that her new room offered.
She pushed through the open cell door to bring her hands to her face, stopping at the last minute as she took in the blood that now resided there. Her breath quickened as she slipped into a panic, rubbing at the now dried substance desperately. A set of footsteps stopped at the threshold as she searched through her bad, not entirely sure what she was looking for. Sophie’s breathing became heavier as her eyes kept catching the bloodstains, her mind threatening to slip into a panic attack.
“Hey, hey.” Daryl’s voice was soft as he realised what was happening, his footsteps crossing the small space to grab at her hands. She burst into tears at the sight, rubbing the palm of her good hand with the opposite hand. Daryl frowned, dropping one of her hands to retrieve one of the rags he kept on him at all times. Sophie watched as he spat on the material with all the grace he could manage, using it to clean the blood from her tired hands. “You did good today.”
“We almost lost him,” Sophie whispered under strained breathing, forcing herself to concentrate on the way he gently worked to clean her hands.
“Yes…” He murmured. “Almost.”
Sophie just nodded, feeling her panic scrub away with the blood on her hands. She chewed at her lip as he worked, desperate for any kind of distraction. “What have you been doing?”
His eyes flickered to her own briefly, before turning back to the task ahead, shrugging almost too casually. “We had some problems with the prisoners. It’s been dealt with, though.”
Considering what that meant, Sophie turned away from her sticky hands to watch the way Daryl studied them as he cleaned. His brown hair hung loosely, threatening to cover his eyes as he worked. In her exhaustion, Sophie leant forward to rest her forehead against his broad shoulder, taking in the familiar earthy scent that he carried.
“I’ve never had to ask you about your day before.”
She felt Daryl just nod in reply, considering her soft words as he placed her hands in her own lap with as much care as he could manage. Sophie held her breath and waited for him to awkwardly clear his throat and create an excuse to leave. Instead, he lifted a nervous hand to rest on the base of her skull for a moment, comforting her in the best way that he could.
Finally, he breathed in, clearing his throat as he shifted his weight. “I think we should have Carol check out your hand...” He mumbled, eyes refusing to meet hers as he picked himself up off the dirty floor.
Sophie nodded ever so slightly, biting back the smile that threatened her lips as he offered her his hand. Climbing to her weary feet and followed him from the cell, she couldn’t help but remember something Beth had said earlier. We’ll be fine…








Notes

Guys! I am so sorry to leave you hanging, but I have been so sick. I hope that a Sophie flashback and a bit of a sweet Daryl moment will buy your forgiveness. Maybe? Hopefully.

I also had four different people comment on the story so far, which was so nice to read. Not only did hollair and Thanya take time out of their day to comment, but Kella13 and Anxious_Geek were completely awesome and commented for the second time! You guys are complete angels x

Hope you all enjoy!

Comments

Who's here on 2020 for a re-read? :D

Tee- Tee-
4/17/20

@QueenUchi

New readers make my heart sing, especially when they start this journey ten months after I ended it (abit abruptly but we won’t get into that because it’ll make me sad again).

Thank you you so much for leaving a comment. Nothing is more motivating for the unmotivated than a little bit of love. Whenever I get a comment from someone new all I find myself wanting to sit down and grill them with a million different questions.

If youre chasing updates about any eventual stories I write, please follow me on instagram @ sophyl_

Thanks a million again!! xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/28/18

thank you @sanders151 for recomending me this fanfic

Your fanfic has been in the center of my life for the whole month November. Let me just tell you that im in love with everything about this story. Im even at loss of words about how amazing this journey has been.

There have been moments when i actually had to get up and calm down from all the feelings may they be joy sadness or just extreme suffering. Ive been cheering, i've been crying to the point of ugly sobbing, ive been screaming while reading this all.

I dont even know how to tell you how i feel about this fanfic there arent any words for it so ima just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH about it cause thats the closets that i can think off "insert all the feelings i cant express here"

I am just so thank full for all your time and effort and everything youve put into this story. Cause WOW youre an amazing writer and when you do make your original story please do know that I WOULD LOVE TO READ THAT TOO.

This journey has ended but it will forever be in my heart.

QueenUchi QueenUchi
11/27/18

@Sanders151

I was so surprised to see a new notification on this story after all these months. Thank you so much for taking the time
to comment, I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read since. Please feel free to leave me updated on your thoughts xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/25/18

Hello,

It's been a looong time since i've read this story. Life got busy and i totally forgot to finish it.

SO i decided to reread everything and lemme tell you...I STILL LOVE IT AS MUCH AS THE FIRST TIME.
Im currently at chapter 62 (right after fort hill) and i can't wait for what is to come.


Sanders151 Sanders151
11/15/18