Here We Are, Come Join Us (The Walking Dead FanFiction)

Chapter 7

Early the next morning Allison elected to stay on the highway with T-Dog and Dale after hearing the petty arguing going on about who should carry a gun while searching for Sophia and who shouldn't. Gunfire would just attract walkers and probably frighten Sophia, if she was within earshot, but some folks (I'm looking at you, Andrea, Allison thought to herself) just didn't seem to get it. Some folks (Andrea again) seemed to think it was a concerted effort by the men in the group to demean the women, keep them in their place, make them seem weak and unable to protect themselves by denying them guns. Or, in terms Allison would never dare speak out loud - remembering the pain of Grandma's wooden spoon against the side of her head -Andrea was desperate to be all bad-assed, like this was some sort of Rambo sequel.

She fetched some more water bottles from the delivery truck and handed one to T-Dog with another Doxycycline tablet. "How come you didn't go out huntin' for that little girl with the others today?" he asked her after downing a healthy slug of water.

Allison shrugged. "Didn't seem like I was needed. They've got what, seven or eight pairs of eyes all walking in a big ol' clump together. A more productive search would mean everyone spreading out, but I suppose that's too dangerous right now. So, not to sound too self-absorbed or anything, but I didn't see any need in exhausting myself traipsing through the dense Georgia woods in this heat when I won't do any good. I can better use my time browsing through these vehicles for supplies."

"Well just don't wander too far," Dale cautioned her. "Let's all stay within visual distance of one another, shall we?"

T-Dog struggled to his feet from his perch on the steps of the RV. "At least I can help scavenge for shit...sorry, I mean 'crap'. Or 'stuff'. I keep forgettin', Daryl told me not to swear in front of you."

Allison couldn't help but smile. That good ol' boy Daryl reminded her of so many of the rough-hewn men she'd known while growing up. She remembered stopping by Loot Starkins' Truck Stop Saloon many a Sunday afternoon with her granddaddy when she was a little girl after fishing all morning. The place would be filled with rednecks who cussed and spat and talked about things they'd done with women that she didn't really understand, but which made many of them wander over to their table and buy her an ice cold Coca-Cola or a small bag of potato chips while apologizing to Granddaddy "I'm sorry the little lady heard that." And they always left in time to get home for Sunday dinner 'cause their Mamas were expecting them and would be upset if they were late after she'd spent all afternoon cooking.

"T, you've got an infection and you need to rest. Ideally, you should be in bed."

"This is ridiculous, my fever's broke, I feel much better, I need to be doing something..."

Allison sighed and put her hands on her hips. "It's always the same with you men – 'I'm fine, I'll rub some dirt on it and walk it off' – like it's an insult to your manhood to actually take care of your body when you're sick. Well, listen up; you need to rest and let the antibiotics do their thing. I don't want to scare you, but without blood tests I can't tell if you have sepsis or not and it's better to err on the side of caution. Septic shock can cause blood clotting and organ failure. Hopefully we got you the doxy in time, but this is not the time to overtax yourself. Not to mention that you probably need stitches in that arm and if you move it around much more you're going to rip that incision open and start bleeding again."

T-Dog muttered something about women being overly dramatic, but he stayed put.

"I'm going to go back upstairs," Dale told Allison, gesturing to the roof of the Winnebago, "and keep watch. Don't wander too far away, OK?"

"OK," she replied and began rifling through the purses and handbags and small carry-on type bags she found in nearby cars. She knew that that's where she'd find things like Tylenol, tampons, Midol, wet wipes, batteries and other small necessities. She'd filled three satchels quite full when she heard some commotion up the road. Pulling her head out of an SUV she saw Glenn, Andrea and the others stepping over the guardrail and talking to Dale.