The Undead

Bullet Wound

Phin gripped the car door with shaky hands, feeling the need to step back and take a deep breath. He wanted to throw a tantrum when Rick had told him they were moving on, because it didn't feel right, like something bad was going to happen.

And in that moment, it's like time itself had slowed down, because he was was more than right.

The suppressed sound of a bullet echoed throughout the city and bounced off the walls, and the boy could feel a dull throbbing sensation in his lower back, but he couldn't register the pain.

He tried to talk but his words slurred as his grip on the car door loosened, and he fell to the ground, blood starting to pour from his wound furiously.

There's a sniper in town.

The men watched in horror as their friend collapsed. Rick was the first one to get out, followed by a line of bullets that hit the car door, this time they weren't suppressed but so loud and real that he began to panic.

Quickly moving the boys body behind the car, Glenn was visibly sick as he began inspecting the wound. His blood running cold when he tried searching for an exit wound, and there was none, and it's like everything was starting to spin again.

Tearing at the sleeve of Phin's shirt he cringed, trying his best not to hurt the boy, who was transitioning in between being conscious and unconscious. He was losing blood quick.

"I don't see the fuckers!" Daryl cursed as he rounded the car. Falling beside Glenn as he huffed.

Rick joined them seconds later, breathing fast and working up a sweat, Python clutched in his hand tightly. "We're outnumbered. If we surrender now, we have a chance of walking away from this alive."

He was good at talking, and using his words to persuade the opposite team, but these people were aggressive. Whether they were willing to have a conservation — he didn't care.

"That's suicide!"

The man didn't listen as he got off the ground, slowly raising his head over the roof of the car with his arms raised, anxiety coursed through his veins but he put on a brave and stern face. "We give up! Our friend is hurt."

The aggressors turned out to be a group of rough looking teenagers. All boys. He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when it became apparent they were easy to persuade. But that's when he realised they were just kids, and equally as scared.

"It was meant to be a warning shot."

Rick just scoffed, "I don't think sniping is your thing. You've got terrible aim, son."

When Glenn cried out "He's still fucking bleeding!" he'd brought them all back down to earth. And they'd have to face the reality, because this was a life or death situation, and neither of them fancied playing god.

Phin was quite literally hanging onto life as he grasped onto Glenn's shirt. One of the boys worked away his wound quickly, with shaky hands that were starting to stain red, the thick substance starting to seep and collect under his already dirty fingernails.

The blonde had passed out from the amount of blood loss, and they'd collectively worked together to transport him into the backseat, sprawled out almost lifeless.

"He's going to be fine."

Rick could read the guilt in their faces as they took one final look at their victim. Whether it was an accident or not, he was glad they were on a level of understanding, and not fighting to the death. "We'd be on our way."

One last apology, and they were gone.

Glenn made sure to check on Phin every few minutes on their way home.