Left to Wander • • Daryl Dixon

Chapter Twenty

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl growled in a threatening like tone which honestly chilled me to the core. I quickly pressed my ear to Hershel's chest listening for a heart beat.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the prisoners questioned although I wasn't paying attention to their quarrel.

"He's bleeding out. We gotta go back. Come around here. Put pressure on the knee. Hard, hard! Push, push." Rick instructed and I jumped to action. We had already lost Dale months ago, we can't loose Hershel, especially with Lori's condition.

"On it! We need to get to the cell block, I don't have many medical supplies left but I have some that may help." I spoke up glancing up at Rick as I applied hard pressure to Hershel's  new nub.

"Why don't you come on out of there. Slow and steady." Daryl warned and I glanced up at the prisoners that spilled out. Counting each, there were only five in the cafeteria with us.

"What happened to him?" A prisoner asked and he seemed like the ring leader. His hair was long, wavy and black. He seemed mexican.

"He got bit." Daryl stated the truth loud and clear to which the leader acted.

"Bit?" He started to pull out a hand gun and my eyes widened.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy now. Nobody needs to get hurt." Daryl warned trying to get the prisoners to back down which was being proved difficult.

"I need you to hold this." Rick motioned for Maggie to hold my t-shirt against Hershel's stub and she did as she was instructed. I was surprised she was still able to help, with her crying she still was pushig through to help save her father. It made me feel slightly happy in this situation.

"You have medical supplies?" Glenn question the prisoners and pushed through.

"Woah. Where do you think you're going?" Another prisoner question, this man looked like T-Dog, african american and had a full beard.

"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" The mexican leader of prisoners questioned yet again.

"Don't look like no rescue team." A third prisoner spoke up, he was a white ginger and had what looked like a styled mustache.

"If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't. Come on, we gotta go! Now! Come on! I need a hand here. One, two, three, go!" Rick instructed and Maggie, Rick, T-dog, and I lifted Hershel onto a moving table to get him back to saftey.

"T, the door." Rick demanded and T-dog opened the door as Maggie, Rick and I rushed out. We were determined to save Hershel. We needed him.

"Are you crazy? Don't open that!" A prisoner tried to stop us but we couldn't wait any longer.

"We got this. Daryl. Daryl! Let's go. This way. This way, this way. No, no, no. Back, back! Daryl. Come on! Go, go, go. Stop, stop. Follow the flashlight. Come on, let's go. Go, go. Go, go, go. Easy, easy." Rick shouted out orders left and right as I felt his wrist, finding the pulse.

"He still has a pulse but it's slow and getting more spaced in between." I told Rick as we ran through the halls of the fallen prison. Our guide in this confusing and dark building was the spray painted arrows that helped incredibly.

"He's losing too much blood." Maggie mentioned as she was the one holding the makeshift bandages to his wound.

"Open the door! It's Hershel! Carl. Come on." Rick ordered with urgency and a sense of desperation.

Carl unlocked the gate quickly as the group rushed in to try and save the old man. Carol rushed to help and Beth, I could tell was distraught and confused as to how this could have happened.