Life on the farm had a certain quiet rhythm to it, even amidst the chaos of the zombie apocalypse. I lived with my oldest sister, Maggie, Beth, Beth's boyfriend Jimmy, my dad, Hershel, and our family friends Otis and Patricia. Being 13 and the youngest in the family had its downsides—while the grown-ups were downstairs enjoying their rare moments of normalcy with wine, I had to stay upstairs, shielded from their conversations.
This morning, I was sitting with Maggie in the living room. We chatted about anything that would distract us from the grim reality of living in a world overrun by the undead. Our conversation filled the room with a semblance of normalcy until Maggie suddenly stood up and walked to the window. Curious, I followed her outside onto the porch.
To our surprise, we saw a distressed man carrying a young boy. Maggie grabbed her binoculars and peered out.
"What do you see, Mag's?" I asked softly, my southern drawl coming out more as I spoke.
Maggie didn't respond immediately but called, "Dad!" before rushing back into the house. I followed her and called out for Dad as well.
Dad, Maggie, Beth, Patricia, and Jimmy all came outside to see the man approaching. As he got closer, I noticed the blood-soaked police uniform he wore. He had a black hat, brown pants, and boots. The boy in his arms looked about my age or maybe a little younger. The man was breathing heavily, clearly distressed.
"Was he bitten?" Dad asked cautiously.
"Shot," the man replied, stumbling onto the porch. "By your man."
"Otis?" Beth asked as we all moved closer.
"He said to find Hershel. Is that you? Help my boy," the man pleaded, his voice breaking.
"Get him inside," Dad directed, and we all followed the man and his boy into the house.
"Patricia, I need my full kit. Maggie?" Dad called as he rolled up his sleeves and headed into the first room.
"Painkillers, coagulants... grab everything. Clean towels, sheets, alcohol," Dad continued, pushing the sheets off a bed. He instructed the man to lay his boy on the bed.
The man seemed more focused on his son's condition than the instructions, so I stepped in and grabbed a pillowcase for the boy. As Dad prepared his tools, I pressed the pillowcase onto the boy's wound, holding it tightly. Dad used his stethoscope to check the boy's heartbeat. I prayed it would be there.
"I've got a heartbeat," Dad said, sounding slightly relieved. "It's faint."
"Step back, Daisy," Patricia said, taking over to hold the pillowcase.
"Maggie, IV," Dad ordered.
"We need some space," Maggie told the man.
"Your name?" Dad asked.
"Rick," the man replied, his voice trembling.
"Rick, we're going to do everything we can, okay? But you need to give us some room. Now," Dad said firmly. Rick reluctantly backed up into the hallway where I stood. I decided to get him some water and went into the kitchen.
After fetching the water, I saw Rick, Otis, and another man outside. The new man was wiping Rick's face with a towel. They all came back inside, and I returned to the room.
"You know his blood type?" Dad asked Rick.
"A-positive, same as mine."
"That's fortunate," Dad said with a soft smile. "Don't wander far; I'm going to need you."
Dad worked on keeping pressure on the wound and asked Otis what had happened. The sight of all the blood made me feel queasy, so I headed upstairs to escape the scene.
Up in my room, I tried to distract myself with comics, but the boy's cries pierced through the walls. Unable to ignore it, I went back downstairs and into the room.
The boy was screaming, and Shane, who had come with Otis, was holding him down as Dad worked. The boy was crying out for Rick, and it was horrifying to watch. Dad was trying to remove a bullet fragment from the wound.
"Almost there," Dad said gently.
The boy's scream was so gut-wrenching that Rick yelled, "Stop! You're killing him!"
"Rick, do you want him to live?" Dad retorted.
The boy's cries echoed through the room.
"He needs blood!"
"Do it now!" Dad commanded.
Patricia inserted a needle into Rick's arm to draw blood. The sight of blood and needles made me queasy again, so I stepped out of the room. A few moments later, the cries ceased. I hoped the boy had passed out from the pain.
I sat in the living room, waiting anxiously. Maggie came and sat next to me, and I leaned against her as she ruffled my messy brown hair.
After a while, Dad emerged from the room, saying he needed more medical supplies to finish the surgery on the boy, Carl. I was half-listening until Otis spoke up.
"The nearest hospital burned down a month ago," Otis said.
Dad and Otis exchanged a hopeful look.
"The high school," Otis suggested.
"That's what I was thinking," Dad agreed. "They set up a FEMA shelter there. They would have everything we need."
Otis mentioned that the shelter was overrun the last time he saw it but suggested it might be better now. I hoped it was.
"Doc, why don't you make a list and draw me a map?" Shane asked, stepping forward.
"You won't need a map. I'll take you there. It's only five miles," Otis said.
"Otis, no," Patricia said, stepping forward, clearly worried about her husband going into danger.
"Honey, we don't have time for guesswork, and I'm responsible. I'm not going to sit here while someone else takes this on alone," Otis insisted.
Shane and Otis had a brief discussion, with Shane arguing that he didn't have to come. Otis countered that Shane didn't know what half the things looked like.
"I could—" I began to say, but Maggie cut me off.
"No, Daisy."
I had been to the high school many times for school excursions before everything fell apart, and I knew what a lot of the equipment looked like. But Maggie didn't want her 13-year-old sister out there with the undead.
"You go on upstairs now," Maggie said, turning away from me. I sighed and headed back to my room.
It was dimly lit with only a candle flickering. My room, with its faded grey paint and posters, felt like a small sanctuary amidst the chaos.
A few minutes later, I looked out the window and saw Otis and Shane getting ready to leave. Rick handed Otis a gun, which he accepted. Otis hugged Patricia before getting into the blue truck with Shane. The truck slowly drove away from the farm. I stayed in my room, grabbing an old comic to read and distract myself.
Not long after, Maggie left on horseback to retrieve Lori, Rick's wife and Carl's mother. About ten minutes later, Maggie returned with Lori on the horse. Dad and Rick were on the porch, talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. When Maggie dismounted and walked closer, Rick ran to her, and they embraced. Lori hurried inside to see Carl.
CHATPER 1 - END
WORD COUNT: 1431
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The Infected || C.G₁
ActionThirteen-year-old Daisy Greene's world is a shattered remnant of what it once was. Surviving the apocalypse alongside her mother Maggie, her aunt Beth, and her grandfather Hershel, Daisy clings to the fragile stability of their small, isolated home...
