Who's Darcy-Ann Dixon? 》Rick Grimes

Chapter 6-The Farm

Rick pants, running slowly, tiredly, ahead of me, holding an unconscious Carl in his arms. He grunts, almost dropping the boy, and re-adjusts him.

"Come on, move!" I shout to the man who shot Carl. He was a bit on the heavier side, wearing hunting gear and carrying a rifle.

"How far?! How far?!" Rick screams at him.

"Another half mile that way," the man points, stopped and panting heavily. "Hershel. Talk to Hershel. He'll help your boy."

"Hershel..." I murmur to myself. Giving up on trying to get the man to run along with us, I sprint to Rick's side. Rick continues grunting as we make our way through the fields.

As we get closer to the house, I start to recognize the area before us, and eventually, the white farmhouse and barns come into view. Rick has to adjust the boy in his arms a few more times, grunting.

We see movement on the porch, and as we get closer I sigh in both relief and stress in seeing the familiar faces and even some new faces. The shooter was one of the new faces. We come into the yard.

"Darcy. Was he bit?" Hershel asks.

"Shot. By your man," Rick says desperately as everyone walks down the stairs.

"Otis?" another unfamiliar face asks, a woman.

Ignoring her, Rick continues. "He said to find Hershel. Is that you?"

"Help me. Help my boy," Rick pleads.

"Get him inside," Hershel commands. Maggie, a young girl with a brown haired bob cut leads the way inside, Hershel and the rest of us following. "Patricia, I need my full kit. Maggie,"

"Yeah?"

"Painkillers, coagulates—grab everything. Clean towels, sheets, alcohol. In here," Hershel says the last part to Rick as he rips the white sheets off a bed in a room he'd lead us into.

Rick sets the bleeding boy down.

"Pillowcase," Hershel tells him.

"Is he alive?" Rick asks in shock.

"Pillowcase, quick." I grab a pillow and tear the white pillowcase off of it.

"Hershel, is he alive?" I repeat Rick's question. I can hear the desperation and despair that was obvious in my voice.

"Fold it. Make a pad. Put pressure on the wound."

I hear the other people moving around behind me as I stare at the pale boy. I only now notice the sweat that sticks the fabric of my shirt to the back and sticks a few strands of hair to my face, and wonder how far out we had been. How long had Carl been unconscious, bleeding out as we tried to rush him to help? Hershel checks Carl's pulse, and I notice blood starting to get on my hands as I hold the pillowcase down. I can feel close Rick behind me, eyes glued to his son as he tries to be as close to his son as he can.

"I've got a heartbeat. It's faint."

"I've got it. Step back," the unfamiliar woman, Patricia as Hershel called her, commands Rick and I.

"Maggie, I.V." her father commands.

"We need some space," Maggie continues to us. I turn around, attempting to give them the space they need, but Rick is in the way, staring at his son in complete daze. His mouth was even hanging open just the slightest.

"Your name?" Hershel inquires.

"R-Rick. I-I'm—I'm—I'm Rick," Rick stutters out in his haze.