The Black Rose

Chapter Eight

"Flashbangs, CS Triple chasers... not sure how they would work on walkers but we'll take 'em." Rick surveyed the table covered with weapons that Rose and T-Dog rummaged from the walkers they killed the day before. His nose wrinkled when he noticed that Rose bought the armors in. From his position, he could see the human remains left on it.

Hershel, T-Dog, and Daryl were huddled around the table but Rose was a few feet away looking remarkably relaxed. Her feet were crossed as she leaned back on the prison wall, eating an apple without any care in the world. Almost if she wasn't just about to siege a prison with so many unknown variables. Last night, Rick and Rose had decided to attempt finding the prison cafeteria in hopes of finding more food.

Daryl picked up a helmet, seeing skin stuck to the material. He wondered what person in their right mind would actually wear this disgusting armor. "I ain't wearing this shit."

"We could boil them." T-Dog suggested, looking at gloves. Rose fought back eye rolls while watching MEN squirm about the protective gears.

"Ain't enough firewood in a whole forest! NO! Besides, we've made it this far without them right?" Daryl shot back, immediately dropping the helmet. She just knew that this group were just about the most idiotic group ever. Rose let out a deep exhale and reminded herself that they just weren't used to being covered by guts and gore. Even though... zombie guts and gore were the best camouflage around.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carol leaving Lori's cell with a look on her face that told Rose that she should investigate. "Hershel... Rose?"

"Everything's alright?" Rick asked Carol, obviously noticing the same thing Rose did. Rose pushed herself off the wall, heading towards Lori's cell. She vaguely heard Carol reassuring Rick as she laid eyes on the pregnant woman. Social stuff wasn't Rose's best area of expertise.

However... it was hard for her to not respect Lori. There had not been a single complaint from her this entire winter. Lori was grateful for the food she was given, grateful for being alive another day. Rose couldn't imagine the amount of stress she goes through every day. Being a woman in love, carrying a child and raising a growing boy and worse of all, dealing with a husband that was highly demanded by others. Hershel and Carol finally entered the cell, taking their spots next to Rose.

"It's the baby. I think I lost it." Lori bit her lips nervously. There were bags under her eyes and her face was dangerously pale and hallow. Rose adjusted her hip, swaying to the right as she wondered why she was asked to come.

"You haven't felt it move?" Hershel questioned while he examined the thin woman.

"Nothing. And no Braxton-Hicks. At first, I thought it was exhaustion and malnutrition." Lori managed to whisper back without cracking.

"You're anemic?"

Lori nods and her lips quavered, "If we're all infected, then so is the baby. So what if it's stillborn? What if it's dead inside me right now, what if it rips me apart?"

"Stop," Hershel interrupted her. "Don't let your fear take control of you."

"Okay. Let's say it'll live and I die during childbirth." Lori changed tactics. Then finally Rose understood why Lori asked for her.

"That's not going to happen." Hershel said sternly, narrowing his eyes on Lori.

"Why not? How many women died in childbirth before modern medicine? If I come back, what if I attack it? Or you, Rick, Carl...." Lori trailed off, making eye contact with Rose. She knew that Rose would uphold her promise no matter what was the circumstances. Tears began to form in her eyes. "If I do, if there is any chance... you put me down immediately. You don't hesitate! Me, the baby... if we're walkers, you don't hesitate and you don't try to save us! Okay? It might have been better if..."