~Prologue~
I walked into the room, expecting to see my big brother standing there. But as I walked around, I noticed that he was no where to be found. "Dante!" I called, and my only answer was the echo off the walls. Looking around, I saw bloody handprints on the wall, and they were dragged down, as if the person slid down the wall. Swallowing, I looked at a closet door, that was shaking, moans coming from behind it. I took the hint and didn't go near it. My vision blurred a little as tears welled up in my eyes, but not from being sad over my brother's disappearance, it was because I was frustrated that I wasn't there to protect him when he needed it. Maybe I could have done something, kept him here. Grabbing my backpack, I walked out the door slamming it behind me, taking the steps two at a time, I ran down to the truck.
My group was looking at me expectantly, and I sighed saying, "He wasn't in there." I wiped a tear from my cheek and coughed, trying to cover it. Being their leader, I felt like I couldn't cry in front of them, I needed to make sure they knew I was strong. Walking over to the truck, I opened the door, placing my backpack on the floor.
Daryl got into the passenger's seat, resting his crossbow on the floor next to his feet. "I'm not crying," I muttered. "My eyes are just watering from the stench in that apartment."
He looked at me like, 'Seriously?', and I halfsmiled. "It's okay to cry, it happens." He told me, and I looked at him for a second, surprised words of consolation just escaped his lips. He chuckled in the back of his throat saying, "I'm not sure where that came from."
I laughed at him and started the truck, it's engine purring lowly. Looking behind me, I pulled out, heading north, far away from my apartment complex, and my brother's body...if it was even there or not. All I knew was something bad had happened and I didn't want to stay and find out what. As I drove down the road, I noticed Daryl staring at my shoulder, an odd look shadowing his eyes. Looking at my shoulder, I saw it was covered in blood. "Shit." I grumbled.
Flipping my blinker on and off real fast, I pulled over. Daryl got out of the truck and told the others that my shoulder was covered in blood. Getting out of the truck, Carol walked over to me and turned me away from her.
Looking at Daryl, I saw he was watching Carol with a look of love and curiousity in his eyes. Halfsmiling, I looked down at my shoes, then back up. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Damn..."
I looked over my shoulder, trying to see it. "What?" I attempted to say, but it came out strangled and raspy.
She looked me in the eyes, then back down at my shoulder. "You have two options for me to be able to examine the wound better. Remove your shirt or let me cut it, so I can look at it." She placed her hand on her knife, ready for either option.
I paused for a second then muttered, "Oh what the hell," and pulled off my shirt, wincing at the pain my shoulder was actually in. My shirt had a huge, deep red blood stain on the shoulder, and I felt cold in just my sports bra. I didn't feel exposed though. Now, it didn't exactly matter what others thought of your appearance.
Carol took a little water and placed it on the cut, making me cringe, arching my back. "Try not to move," she muttered. "What the..." I tried not to freak out as I saw her pull out her knife. "You may wanna sit down." I swallowed and sat on the curb, my breath heavy. Carol grabbed a towel and twisted it, handing it to me saying, "Here. Bite on this."
I took it from her, and began to ask her why when she dug the tip of the knife into my wound. Biting down on the towel, I could taste fuzz coming off into my mouth. After a few seconds I could feel a stream of hot blood running down my back, and down onto the curb. Seconds went by, then minutes. It felt like hours by the time she put the knife down, its sharp edge covered in blood. "What the hell did you do?" I cried, my eyes watering.
She stood up and showed me a fragment of a bullet, and I took it in my fingers, remembering when I had gotten shot, a month or so ago, when Hershel was still alive and he removed the fragements. The bullet entered my body through the back, breaking into three peices.
Staring at it incredously, I looked up at Carol, "But Hershel said he got all of the peices."
She shrugged. "I only saw it because at first I was removing dead and damaged tissues. It looks like it was hidden behind a tissue, but was in a certain position where it didn't nick any of the tissues or veins. Now, sit back down," she mumbled, pulling out a needle and thread. "And get your towel ready. I need to sow you back up."
