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

Chapter 9

After they returned Allison sought out Lori. She found her near her tent. "Here you go," she said quietly, removing her backpack and digging through it. She found the pregnancy test and handed it over.

Lori took the box from her and stuffed it into the back of her jeans.

"Um, Lori," Allison hesitated, "if there's anything I can do to help..."

"What I need you to do right now is keep quiet about this," Lori stated bluntly before turning around and disappearing into her tent.

"You're welcome," Allison muttered under her breath. She started back toward her own tent when she saw some sort of commotion going on near the RV. She started jogging to it when she heard Dale's voice yelling "No, Andrea, no! Don't shoot!"

As Allison got closer she saw Andrea lying in a prone position atop the Winnebago, aiming for something in the distance. But three figures appeared to be in her line of fire – it looked like Rick, T-Dog and Glenn. She was just nearing the ladder of the vehicle when Andrea pulled the trigger. A fourth figure, one she hadn't noticed before, dropped to the ground and she heard a chorus of "No!" from the other men.

"What's going on?" Allison asked Dale as he descended the ladder.

"I'm not sure," he replied, raising his binoculars. "Is that...Daryl?"

"What?" Allison gasped. She grabbed the glasses out of Dale's hand, nearly strangling him with the neck strap. "Oh my God, you shot Daryl!" She dropped the binoculars and they bounced back against Dale's chest. Allison took off running to the men who were now half-carrying Daryl back to the house. "Is he OK?" She asked frantically when she caught up with them. She fell into step with them and looked at the blood on the side of his head. "Looks like it just grazed him. My God, what was she thinking...." She then noticed the blood soaked through his shirt. "I only heard one shot, what happened here...." She mumbled as she tried to pull open his shirt while they stumbled up the steps.

"Let's get him inside first," Rick told her. "Oh, and you'd better hang on to this." He handed her a string with three discolored ears hanging on it. "Hershel doesn't need to see this."

"Glenn, can you please run to my tent and fetch the black leather satchel that's near my sleeping bag?" Allison asked as she looked for a place on her person to hide the bizarre necklace. She finally stuffed it down the front of her shirt.

"In here," Patricia had appeared out of nowhere and directed the group into a bedroom. She spread out an extra sheet on top of the covers apologetically ("Sorry, but he's kinda filthy") before Rick and T-Dog eased Daryl onto the bed. Allison got to work stripping his shirt off. It was hard to see anything below all the dirt and grime.

"Patricia, could you please get me a basin of warm water and some towels or cloths?"

She was suddenly conscious of Glenn standing beside her, holding out her call bag. "You got rockets in your feet or something? That was quick." She smiled at him. "Thanks very much." She took the ears out of her cleavage and stashed them in the bag with one hand while removing a large bottle of antiseptic gel sanitizer with the other. "I need to clean you off a bit," she told Daryl, who was already beginning to squirm, "so I can see what's what."

"I can clean myself," he grumbled, pushing her hands away.

"Not right now you can't," Allison told him. "Right now I need you to sit still and let me do my job."

Patricia returned with the basin, a stack of clean towels and Hershel.

"Are you the one who stole my horse?"

"You mean the nag that tried to kill me?" Daryl sneered.

"We call her Nellie, as in 'Nervous Nellie.' Would've told you that had you asked before you just took her. Any idea where she might be?"