Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 15: Bloodletting

Rick runs like he's never run before, heart pounding in his chest. The woman hanging between him and Shane is limp, head lolling with every stride they make, and Carl runs behind them, her backpack hanging from his shoulders.

"Come on, shithead!" Shane shouts over his shoulder. He readjusts his grip on Hope. "How far?!"

An overweight man dressed head to toe in camo and carrying a hunting rifle tries to keep up, but he's already huffing and puffing with effort. "Another half mile that way!" he calls, shaking his hand in the right direction. "Get Hershel! Talk to Hershel. He'll help her!"

"You better keep up!" Shane snaps.

They run across a large field. Already, Hope's shirt is soaked with blood and she's getting paler by the minute despite the belt tourniquet around her middle, but a farmhouse comes into view, as promised. Someone stands on the porch.

They get over the fence encasing the field and more people run from the farmhouse: an older man in suspenders, a middle-aged blonde woman, a young brunette woman, and two teenagers (a boy and a girl).

"Was she bit?" the older man calls.

"Shot," Rick answers, "by your man."

"Otis?" the middle-aged woman asks.

"He said find Hershel. Is that you?" Rick demands. "Please, you've got to help us!"

"Get her inside."

Hershel goes in, already rolling up his sleeves, shouting orders as people split off. Rick and Shane keep going, hauling Hope after the man.

"Patricia, I need my full kit. Maggie, painkillers, coagulates—grab everything. Clean towels, sheets, alcohol. In here."

He leads them into a small room with a bed inside, flipping up the blankets, and the men set Hope down. Shane backs off and Rick moves to Carl's side as the boy stares at Hope with wide, terrified eyes.

"Pillowcase," Hershel continues. He removes Hope's knife and machete from her belt and pushes her shirt up. "Pillowcase, quick."

"Is she alive?" Rick asks. When he doesn't get an immediate response, he repeats, firmer, "Is she alive?"

"Fold it. Make a pad," Hershel directs as the other women come into the room. He hands the pillowcase to Rick and he does as he's ordered. "Put pressure on the wound."

"Dad?" Carl asks. Shane grips Carl's shoulder.

"It'll be okay," Rick tells him as he presses the pad to her wound. "It's okay."

Hershel puts on a stethoscope and rests it on Hope's chest, pausing for a second. "I've got a heartbeat," he says. "It's faint."

"I got it, step back," the older woman, Patricia, says as she nudges Rick out of the way.

"Maggie, I.V."

"We need some space," Maggie, the young woman with short brown hair, says.

Carl whimpers and Rick comes back to his side, embracing him. Hershel looks up at him. "Your name?" he asks.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick, we're going to do everything we can to help your wife."

Rick blinks a few times. "What? No, she's not my wife." Again, Hershel looks at him, then his gaze briefly moves to Shane, waiting by the window. "She's the medic in our group. A friend."

He nods. "Well, we're going to do everything we can," he repeats. "You need to take your boy and give us some room."

"Come on, man," Shane murmurs.