the gods forbid [the walking dead]

1.16

Then, she traveled to her forearms and hands, scrubbing unnecessarily rough. Her forearms were agitated as she continued to scrub. Thears left her eyes, not from the scrubbing, yet from the pain of having to end Sophia's life way too early.

She continued scrubbing until she had heard yelling from some part of the house. She quickly rushed to where it was coming from to make sure whether or not she could possibly be of help. When she got to the yelling, surprise entered her system. There stood Rick, Hershel and Shane, rushing into a bedroom.

Yet there was something in Rick's arms. More like someone. As Opal neared and got sight of who it was, she gasped. There in Rick's arms was Carl.

Hershel demanded that Shane get Rick out of the room, where they would hopefully sace the boy.

The duo went outside and Opal quickly followed, looking to comfort the hurting man.

"Rick? Shane?" She asked.

Both of them looked up, surprised at seeing the sudden girl.

"Opal!" Shane exclaimed, "Where's Sophia?"

Opal looked down, sd to have to tell the story another time. "She got bit on the way back to the farm," Opal told.

Both men looked down, sadden deeply b y the loss of such a young girl.

"Holy shit," Shane said, running a hand over his eyes.

Opal's eyes looked to Rick, his hands shaking mildly. The girl felt the need to comfort him, yet she had no idea of how to. She kept searching her mind to try to find a way to help, but soon found that it was hopeless. Yet, thankfully, Shane did know a way. He hugged Rick, trying to calm him down.

Thankfully, Hershel walked out of the house, now holding a blood stained wash cloth. "We got him stable," he announced.

Everybody took a sigh of relief. They were glad that Carl was currently in a state that kept him away from death. Hopefully he would stay that way.

"Yet, we're running out of medicine as quick as we're suing it. We need more," Hershel told, walking back inside the house.

Everybody followed the older man, waiting to hear what else Hershel had to say.

"That means that somebody's going to have to go on a run, the smartest place to go is the highschool," Hershel started, but soon getting cut off by Otis.

"The med truck," he realized.

Hershel nodded, "So somebody is going to have to go."

"I'll go," Shane instantly said, raising his hand slightly.

"No, I'll go," Otis argued. "It's my fault the boy's shot."

Patricia whispered something to Otis, telling him that it wasn't his fault and that he was fine.

"Plus, you probably don't know what any of this stuff looks like," Otis added.

Shane nodded, "yeah, you're right. We'll both go. Keep each other safe."

Otis nodded, "Let's get going now."

Rick stepped forward, "here, take my gun," he arm stretched forward, his silver gun placed in his bloodstained hand.

Otis shook his head, "no, I can't do that."

"You're going to need a short range weapon, and a rifle ain't gonna do anything," he told.

Otis sighed, knowing that Rick wouldn't give up on giving the man his weapon. "Fine. thank you."

Then, the duo left out the door, hopping into Otis's dark blue pickup truck.

Patricia had a look of sadness plastered on her face as Otis and Shane left the property. Opal understood why, one of her favorite people that was still left in the world was leaving her and there was a high chance of him not coming back.

"Hershel, is there anything I can do? For Carl, or anything around the house," Opal questioned, she didn't just want to sit around and not do anything while there could possibly be things that could be done.

To her demise, Hershel shook his head, not quite trusting the girl around his house and his medical supplies. "Not at the moment, but if I do end up needing you, I'll call ya."

Opal nodded. Now there was nothing that she could. Her arms and neck were clean, meaning that she couldn't clean them and Hershel didn't need any help.