Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 19: Don't Stop at Friends

A gunshot goes off outside.

I freeze and my hands go numb. I picture the woods, that beautiful young stag living in a tiny picture of peace. That brief moment of beauty before everything falls apart again and my chest hurts. My side hurts, burning and aching like embers lighting my skin ablaze. I'm watching that deer die. I'm watching the people of Atlanta die from my glass prison. Gunshots and explosions and death and I can't breathe. I can't get enough air like I'm drowning without any water.

I can't breathe. I'm going to die. I'm going to—

"...pe! Hope!"

I feel a sharp pinch on my arm and I startle. My ears ring, clearing as audio comes back, and I suck in a long, deep breath. Carl stares at me, eyes wide as he grips my white-knuckled hand tightly. Lori and Carol flank me, keeping me in place on my chair. Beth collects runaway potatoes.

"I...I'm sorry," I gasp. Another breath. In, out, come back. Calm down. "I can—"

"It's okay, I've got it," Beth says as she collects the last one and sets the bowl by the sink.

The front door slams shut and, like a herd following the noise, we're drawn to it. Outside, Hershel's running as fast as he can to the RV and, out in the nearest field, I can just see the men gathered in a clump. Andrea kneels on top of the RV, mouth agape, and Dale hangs off the ladder, squinting at the horizon. I hear echoing shouts. Everyone sprints ahead of me except for Carol, who stays by my side while I struggle to run. It hurts if I move faster than a walk but I can't stop.

"Rick!" Lori shouts.

"What on earth's going on out here?!" Hershel shouts.

Andrea shakes her head and scrambles to the ladder as Dale steps off it and the two of them go sprinting into the field after the men. My heart is still pounding too fast but I keep moving, following everyone to the gate.

I can see Rick and Shane coming with someone dangling between them, covered in blood, head drooped. My heart, already going a mile a minute, seems to drop like a stone into the pit of my stomach. We've only got one person missing, don't we? Everyone's accounted for except...

"Oh, god...oh, God, please no," I breathe.

Everyone else has stopped at the fence, but I break away from Carol and push past them. My side aches and screams in protest but I move as fast as I can, into the field and towards the men and Andrea. T-Dog blocks my path before I get too far and I run into his chest, staring over his shoulder in mute horror.

"Daryl," I whimper. "Daryl—"

"He's alive," T-Dog says. "You gotta slow down. You could hurt yourself."

Forget me, I think. Daryl's hurt and I'm the only one with his blood type and damn it, I can't donate blood right now! If he's hurt badly enough and he needs a transfusion, I can't give him one. He could die while I'm standing there with his blood running through me and no, no, not him, not now, not—

Again, T-Dog keeps me back. "Hope, deep breaths. He's alive, okay? And look." He holds up a little cloth doll, the one Sophia got from Morales's daughter. "Looks like he got more evidence."

That's good, great even, but I can't feel anything over the fear. I try to take deep breaths but it hurts and I can't tear my eyes away from Daryl, no matter how much my vision blurs from a sudden influx of tears. Rick and Shane hurry past us, towards the farmhouse, but T-Dog holds me in place when I try to follow.

"We're gonna walk, okay?" he says. "You're gonna calm down and let them take care of him."

I give a feeble nod and he nudges me a bit. Through the panic and the shaking, I pray harder than I ever have before.