The Fear (The Walking Dead / Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 26 - Going To Be Fine

"He's bleeding out." Rick stated.

"I can't do anything here, we need to get him back." I stated, shaking my head back and forth as my hands finally began to shake, coated in red.

"Kat..." I heard Daryl whisper as I glanced over at him. "Duck." He stated. I only just registered his words, ducking my head as he reached for his bow and jumped up, turning on his flashlight.

We all followed the light until we saw five men, prisoners, staring at us in pure shock from inside a kitchen, looking through the wire that separated the room from where we were. It was then that I realised we were in a cafeteria.

"Holy shit." One of them stated as Daryl stepped closer with his crossbow at the ready.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl demanded.

"Who the hell are you?" One of them echoed back.

"We don't have time for this. Rick! We have to get back." I stated, folding the cut pant leg back over the open wound, applying pressure. "Maggie, hold it there, tight."

"Come on out of there, slow and steady." Daryl said to the prisoners.

"What happened to him?" The first one out of the door asked. He was by far the fittest looking of the lot, probably the type to do daily workout routines in his cell morning and night.

"He got bit." Daryl replied simply, keeping the crossbow pointed at the guy.

I paid no more attention as I tucked away my weapons, keeping the machete in my hand as I stood up.

"Glenn, see if there's a table in the kitchen with wheels, something we can easily move him on." Glenn took off as Rick began to sit my dad up. There was a crash in the kitchen and he was back in no time, helping Rick pick up the unconscious older man and place him on the metal wheeled bench.

Maggie kept pressure on the leg while Rick and Glenn pushed the bench and T-Dog opened the door. An armoured walker came through that he took out while I readied my Machete, chopping through another.

"Daryl!" I yelled. "Leave them, let's go!" He backed up slowly until he was out the door, leaving the five men with my father's amputated leg.

We ran down the corridors, taking out a few straggling walkers, Daryl in the lead with his crossbow and flashlight. We came to a few corners and were forced to back up and run in another direction, but we made it back cleaner and faster than we had gotten there, however, the five men in blue jumpsuits following us did not go unnoticed.

"Carl! Open the door!" Rick yelled to his son as we came running into the first room of the cell block.

"Oh my god!" Carol exclaimed just as Lori and Beth came running out to see what was happening.

"In there! Get him on the bed!" Rick yelled.

"No!" I jumped in. "Keep him out here on the table!" There was more room outside the cells and with the table I could easily move around it. They halted the mobile bench and flicked up the latched on the wheels to stop it from moving. "I need more bandages."

"We don't have any left." Glenn stated.

"There's towels." Carol jumped in.

"Carl, go and grab them!" Lori then said to her son who ran off to find the towels.

"Is he gonna die?" I heard Beth ask in a small voice. "Kat?" She continued.

"No. No, he's gonna be okay." Lori jumped in for me, thankfully.