The Sharpest Lives

Chapter 62

The night rolled on, dark and full of death.

Daryl and Ace hadn't moved a muscle.

Daryl still braced himself with his crossbow up, facing the closed door. He was waiting and listening, on edge that the walkers would push themselves in the house.

Ace had the window. She kept the rifle in her grip, loaded, just in case any walker went by and caught wind or heard them inside of here. Any sign or sound of the walkers trying to get into the house would have Daryl and Ace needing to come up with a new plan of action.

But they wouldn't hear them. Daryl and Ace didn't make a sound. The were solid rocks in the dark at this point.

As much as the two could be thinking and worried about right now, neither did. There was only one thing. Staying safe. Staying hidden.

But the adrenaline had started to fade from Ace's body. She was struggling to keep her eyes open, let alone hold then rifle up. Daryl knew this too, knew he needed to check on her wounds, but wanted to wait until it was clear.

The walkers were distracted enough by the cars and the gun fire leaving the farm a little while ago that they had no need to start attacking the house. As far as Ace and Daryl knew, the walkers were clueless to their presence inside of this house. Now, they just had to wait for them to move on.

But Ace could think enough to know that would take a while. The barn that Rick or Shane lit on fire was still burning. It was going to go out soon, but in its course the sound of the wood falling or caving in on itself could be heard. Either way, that barn was attracting attention. It was good in the sense that the walkers that went over there would burn, but bad in the sense that it kept a lot of them on the farm.

At least it was the barn that the attention was on, not Daryl or Ace. And by the morning, the fire should rest and just be smoke. But, they couldn't help but worry that the smoke might draw the attention of some unwanted guests, possibly even Randal's group.

As time ticked on and the intense feeling of survival continued to roll between the team of two, Ace was fighting as hard as she could. She was worried the pain killers Maggie gave her would wear off anytime now. That had to be the only thing keeping her conscious. She knew it would be a problem when the pain killer's affects weakened. And there was nothing Ace hated more than being a problem. Especially when a problem was the last thing they needed right now.

As more time passed and Daryl still had not heard any walkers banging to get into the house, he turned to Ace. Her head was leaning back against the headboard, eyes open just enough for her to look through the window. She was starting to visualize the walker that had crawled through there earlier, her mind trying to come up with anything to scare her into staying awake.

Daryl silently came over, setting his crossbow onto the bed. He glanced around the room, his eyes having adjusted to the dark of the night long ago. He spotted the IV stand, the needle dangling from it. It must have ripped out when Ace fought off the walker. Luckily, there was still some fluid in the bag.

Daryl moved, nearly tip-toeing to bring it over, lifting it up to not drag on the ground. He came over to the side of the bed Ace was on and set it down. It was deathly silent as he grabbed onto her arm, his hand wrapping entirely around her wrist, as his other hand held the needle.

Daryl really had to focus through the night to find the vein. He hadn't done this before, but after watching Hershel do it nearly thousands of times, he was confident enough. And he wasn't going to waste a second worrying about it. After the events of tonight, he was done worrying about shit, especially the way he held onto Ace's wrist.

Normally Ace would flinch or freak out about the needle, but she was too far gone to give half of a care. She actually didn't mind when Daryl poked the needle into her skin, it let her know that she was actually awake, not dreaming.