My Redneck Angel

21. Cell

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl asks. By now we found a metal bar to stick between the two door handles. Rick, Glenn, and Maggie glance at the prisoners but keep focus on Herhsel. "He's bleeding out! Put pressure on his knee." I stand beside Daryl, so does T-Dog. "Do you have medical supplies?" Glenn runs past them, into a room. "Hey," the Hispanic looking one points a gun. Me and T bring our guns up, along with Daryls bow that's already up. "Nobody's gotta get hurt," Daryl warns. "What happened to him anyway?" He asks, refurring to Hershel. "He was bit."

"Bit?" He asks eyeing me. Daryl steps in front of me, blocking his veiw. Glenn comes rushing out of the room with a table. "Get him up. We have to go now, open the door," Rick orders. "Are you crazy?! Don't open that door," one of the prisoners shouts. "We got this," T-Dog swings the door open. Only a riot one appears, the rest of them have cleared. "Daryl. Daryl!" Rick yells as he wheels Hershel out of the room. He backs out of the room slowly, keeping me behind him

We run back down the dark halls, trying to find our way. "This way, go. Go!"

"Daryl!" Rick shouts again. He shoots a walker in front of us then takes his arrow back. "This way," he waves. We push Hershel around the corner, then Daryl makes his way to the back. "Wait. Wait, look." We all stop to see what he's talking about. "Follow the flashlight," someone whispers from behind us. "Let go!" Rick says.

I open the first door, allowing them to get Hershel through. "Carl open the door," I yell. "Its Hershel!" Everyone surrounds the gate as he scrambles to open it. "Shut it," T says when everyone is through but him and Daryl. "He was bit," Rick clarifys. "Get him on the bed."

"We need bandage's."

"We used everything we got!"

"Is he gonna die," someone whimpers. "Carl go get those sheets by my bed."

"I need to keep is leg up, get me some pillows."

"He's losing to much blood, he's already bled through the sheets."

"We can bind the wound, I-I can start a fire," Glenn suggest. "Please no. No"

"The pain will put him in shock, it could kill him."

So many orders, commands, and comments are being shouted I can't figure out this saying what. Its overwhelming, its all to much. I back away from the cell and against the wall. I tap Carl so he'll open the gates for me. I walk out to the other room, that the prisoners haven't entered yet. Daryl points to the back wall where he wants me to stand, he takes the arrow between his lips so he can load his crossbow. After he has done so, he points it at the door.

"That's far enough." Even at Daryl's command, they take a few more steps in. "Cell block C, ringer number 4 is mine. Let me in," the hispanic one commands back. "Today's your lucky day fellas. You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia, your free to go," Daryl says in all seriousness. "What's going on in there?"

"That ain't none of your concern."

"Don't tell me what's my concern," he says looking over Daryl and at me. He tightens his grip on his crossbkw, taking a step forward. "Chill, the mans leg is messed up and besides, were free now. Why are we still in here?" The tallest one asks. "Mans gotta point," Daryl growls. "Yeah, I gotta go check on my old lady," another one says. "A group of civillians breaking into a prison you got no buissness being in-got me thinkin there ain't no place to go," the Hispanic says stepping in again. "Why don't you go find out," Daryl responds, getting a little mad. "M-maybe we'll just be going now," the white one says holding up is hands, showing fear. "We ain't leav-"

"You ain't comin' here either," T-Dog cuts off, walking into the room with his gun cocked and pointed. "This is my house, my rules. I can go where I damn well please," he shouts now pointing at T with his gun.