Detached [TWD Fanfiction]

Chapter 8

Everything felt like moving through thick water. All of us. They would all turn. Her deal with Daryl loomed over her. It didn't matter if they needed to put each other out of their misery, they'd need to be put down either way. It was ironic, really, how she'd not long made such a deal and already felt like she wanted to cash in. She wanted to be alone, of course she did, but she didn't want to be one of those things she'd spent months fighting. Not one of the things that brought the world crashing down. What if she couldn't shoot herself in the head? What if she wound up in a situation with no gun? This was all too much for one night.

'You bit too?' Carl asked, looking up at Rick. So he didn't know. Supposedly no one else did either, which meant they had been lucky enough that none of them had died without being bitten or shot in the head - if that could be considered any kind of luck.

'No,' Rick answered. It seemed like he didn't plan on breaking the news.

'Shane was,' he continued.

'It wasn't Shane, you know that,' Rick stated. A smart way to look at the walkers, Lucy thought. If they don't think they're human they can kill them. She still thought it was better to cut the ties before they died.

'Used to be. What happened? Were you guys attacked? I mean, I heard a gunshot, but I didn't see any walkers nearby. How did Shane die?' Lucy was about to point out how full of questions she was until she remembered something quite important. Shane had shot towards her, and coincidentally her shoulder was beginning to hurt a little. She stopped, holding her arm forwards to look at the wound better. Adrenaline could be a bitch, sometimes. She'd been so caught up in killing Shane, and finding out that she would turn into a walker one day that she hadn't even noticed she'd been shot. Rick and Carl stopped too, turning and finding what she was looking at. Just as Rick was going to say something about her blood soaked shoulder, he noticed the hoard of walkers stretching the length of the field behind her. She turned to see what had drained the colour from his face, seeing and hearing the horror.

'Oh my god, go.' Rick put his arms out to hurry them away as they all crouched down, praying they hadn't been seen. This group of walkers was far bigger than the one she'd led away from the camp a couple days prior, though she wouldn't be surprised if it consisted of many of the same corpses. The three of them made it across the field and headed towards the barn. It was the closest place for cover, though not necessarily safe. A few walkers blocked their path to the doors, forcing them to take temporary shelter at some trees.

'We gotta get to the house, tell the others,' Carl pleaded, looking between both Rick and Lucy. She doubted anyone else even knew he was out there, meaning Lori would be worried sick and could damn well get herself killed looking for him. He was right, they needed to warn the others, but there was no way they could get remotely close to the house.

'We can't get through them, there's no way to the house. Barn's the best bet,' she told them. She and Rick nodded to each other, readying their weapons.

'Carl, stay close,' Rick whispered to him. It didn't take long to reach the doors of the barn, and each of them had only taken down several walkers each, Lucy using a knife with her dominant hand to avoid damaging her bad arm any more. She'd had injuries before and could quite comfortably handle some pain, but she hadn't had a bullet stuck in her shoulder. It made running difficult for fear of her movement pushing the bullet around. Her blood pumping faster didn't help either, a good amount of it staining her clothes. If she lost much more she'd be getting light-headed. Then she'd be no good.
The doors came open and the three of them rushed inside, Carl in front. Rick grabbed a plank of wood to seal the doors. They were safe for now, but it wouldn't last long. Walkers were pushing on the door, shaking it and forcing the hinges forwards.