Survivor (A Glenn Rhee fanfiction)

Internment

Chapter 41: Internment
Glenn's POV

"Henry, I need you to calm down." Hershel speaks gently to the wheezing man. "We're trying to help." He adds, connecting an air pump to the tube and mask on Henry's face.

The air bag hisses softly, and Henry's breathing returns to a steadier pace. I cough, covering my mouth with my arm and leaning against the cell door to hold myself up.

"Drink some of that. Both of you." Hershel instructs Sasha and I, holding out a cup of the tea he made earlier. After Sasha takes a drink, I have one. The liquid warms my throat.

"Some council meeting, huh?" I joke, scratching the back of my neck while setting the empty cup on the small table in the cell. "We're three members short."

"I think we should make some new rules before they get back." Hershel says, squeezing the airbag. "I hereby declare we have spaghetti Tuesdays every Wednesday."

"First we have to find some spaghetti." I reply, smiling a little.

"You okay to take over?" Hershel asks Sasha, who nods and takes his place. "Every five to six seconds, squeeze. You start feeling lightheaded, grab somebody else to take over. We take it in shifts."

Hershel and I leave Sasha with Henry. "You want to help me go on my rounds?" Hershel turns to me.

"Yeah. Sure." I reply, looking back at Henry and Sasha. "How long will that keep him alive?" I ask, referring to the air pump connected to Henry.

"Just as long as we're willing to do it. As long as it takes." Hershel replies, leading me through the cell block.

The cell block sounds of scattered coughing and whispers. The people in the cells are all fine, until we come upon a man who is seemingly dead.

Hershel raises the sheet up and over his head to cover the man's face. I take out my knife, but Hershel stops me.

"No, not here. Help me get him on this." Hershel instructs, wheeling a stretcher next to the bed.

"Okay, but in a couple of hours when Henry's dead-" I sigh.

"Glenn." Hershel silences me.

"How are we gonna get his body down the stairs, across the cell block and through those doors without anyone noticing?" I ask as we prepare to move the dead man onto the stretcher.

"If that happens - you're gonna help me." Hershel replies, nodding his head at me.

"And what if I'm gone?" I ask him.

"Shut up and help me get him on this." Hershel answers. We move the man onto the stretcher and roll it out into the cell block.

We make it halfway to the doors leading outside when a small voice stops us. "What are you doing?" The voice belongs to Lizzie, a young girl who came with the Woodbury group.

"We're taking Mr. Jacobson to a quieter place." Hershel replies in a gentle tone. "Go get my copy of Tom Sawyer from my room. I want you to read it by tonight. We all got jobs to do." Hershel smiles at Lizzie.

"That one's yours. I won't finish it." Lizzie coughs.

"Why?" Hershel asks the little girl.

"It's gonna get too dark." Lizzie replies with another cough.

"Well give it your best try. And drink some tea." Hershel says, and Lizzie heads to get the book.

We continue to wheel the body out of the cell block. We stop the stretcher right outside the doors. I take out my knife once again.