Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

37: Not Feeling Well

For a few weeks, everything went perfectly smoothly.

The newcomers from Woodbury were warmly welcomed into the prison, and we all began living as a large, thriving community. We raised plants of all sorts, such as tomatoes, potatoes, and squash, and even had farm animals, including pigs, chickens, and even a dairy cow.

Ben, Lea, and Alex were accepted fully as members of our group, as well. They moved into our cell block, and everyone treated them like they'd always been one of us. Dad even started trying to get Alex to come out of his shell; he had sort of taken him underneath his wing, teaching him some of the things he knew.

As for me, I became really close with Lea extremely quick. We had a lot in common, I realized, and got along very well. She was very funny, and a whole-hearted optimist, a rare trait in the world we were facing.

All in all, we had a strong, flourishing community building up, and that was something everyone was proud of.

One day, Dad went out on a supply run with Sasha, Tyreese, Bob, Zach to a nearby grocery store in search of more supplies. Nothing in specific, really, just things to keep the community up and running, like food and medicine. For me, though, I put in a special request for another basketball. Myself and the other kids really enjoyed playing on the court, but the basketball we had was becoming as flat as a pancake. Dad said he didn't know if the place they were going to would have one, but he would definitely look and see.

After the group left, Carl, Alex, Patrick, (a new kid from Woodbury) Lea, and I meandered towards the library, where Carol held story time for the younger kids every other day. Patrick said he liked going sometimes, and the rest of us, not having anything better to do, semi-agreed to go with him.

When we got to the library, Alex went to sit with Patrick on the ground with the rest of the kids, but Carl, Lea, and I held back, overlooking the scene from behind a bookshelf. Carol was reading a story that I hadn't ever heard, but from what I could tell, it was definitely for smaller kids.

Although, when the other adult who was standing in the room left, Carol changed topics completely. She immediately set the book down beside her, and picked up what looked like a briefcase. She opened it, and what I saw inside made my eyebrows furrow with confusion; it appeared to be a collection of knives.

I looked over to Carl with confusion, but he wasn't paying attention to me; he was looking at Carol with utter disgust.

"Now, when you encounter a walker, you have to go for the head. It's the only way you can kill it," she explained. "You need to hold the knife like this, with a strong grip, so you can drive it into their skull." She did a strict visual as she explained this to the kids, and many of them jumped back in surprise.

"Um... ma'am, may I be excused?" Patrick asked, raising his hand. Alex, from beside him, looked over with an eyebrow raised; I think him and I were both wondering why Patrick looked like he was going to throw up.

"Why?" Carol asked, shaking her head.

"I'm, uh, not feeling well."

"Well, what're you gonna do if you're getting chased in the woods? You can't just stop and rest if you're not feeling well."

"Yeah, I know, but... I just don't wanna yack on somebody," Patrick said, wincing.

Many of the kids groaned in disgust, and moved away from him. Carol sighed, looking at Patrick with disapproving eyes. "Go," she said, motioning weakly to the door.

Patrick didn't waste one second in jumping up, and bolting for the door. When it slammed shut behind him, Carol was meaning to return to her "teaching," but before she could, she caught sight of the three of us standing behind the bookshelf.

Her eyes turned downcast, and she said in a pleading voice, "please, don't tell them."

Carl didn't respond; he simply turned and walked out, leaving Lea, Alex, and I to follow behind him. When we exited the library and were back outside, I stopped Carl in his tracks, grabbing his wrist and spinning him around.

"Hey... you know she's doing that because of Sofia... you know that, right?" I asked.

Some of his anger seemed to fade away, and he subtly nodded his head. "Yeah... I know."

"She has good intentions, Carl. Maybe we should keep it to ourselves for now. I mean, she's not doing anything that'll put us in danger. What's the harm?"

"I wasn't gonna tell, it just... kids younger than us shouldn't have to grow up in a world like this, you know?"

My face faltered for a moment, and I nodded to him. "Yeah.. but, it is what it is. The best thing we can do is help them get acquainted to it, so they'll get used to it faster."

He nodded, softly smiling at me. "Yep, you're right."

I smiled in return, and gave his shoulder a soft pat.

"Okay, if you guys are done flirting now, I'm gonna do down to the court and shoot some basketball with our pancake. You guys coming?" Lea teased from behind us.

Carl turned to face her and rolled his eyes before saying, "sure, let's go."

"I'll meet you guys there in a bit. I'm gonna go check on Patrick, make sure he's alright," I said to them.

Carl gave me a skeptical look, and I shrugged. "Some people have weak stomachs. It's not their fault," I said as I began walking back towards the prison.

"Alright," he said sarcastically. "See you in a bit."

I walked into the prison, and started heading for D-Block, which is where Patrick stayed. I didn't know where I would find him, so I just began wandering the block, calling out his name.

"Patrick? You in here?"

I gained no response, but I kept pacing around the cell block in hopes for one.

"Patrick you okay?"

Then, as I rounded a corner, I found him, but not in the way I had ever imagined to.

Suddenly, Patrick's reanimated, snarling corpse threw itself at me, teeth snapping ravenously. I immediately gasped as he landed on me, and jerked out my knife. I attempted to push him off me so I could put him down, but when I came to realization that his teeth had latched themselves onto my shirt, I panicked.

I shifted my knife to my left hand, trying to keep him from biting into my skin, and eventually drove the knife through his skull. I felt him move no more, and he collapsed to the ground with a piece of my gray shirt dangling from his teeth.

I checked my arm for any bite marks or scratches, and was immensely thankful when I saw none; he had latched onto my shirt, nothing more.

Just as I was about to examine Patrick for any injuries, a noise stopped me dead in my tracks. I froze, and listened as the sounds of groans and snarls surrounded me in every direction.

I looked around frantically, and saw the walkers approaching in several, smaller hoards. A part of my mind was racing trying to figure out how the people of D-Block could've even turned, but the other part was just trying to figure out an escape plan.

There wasn't an immediate way out of the area that wasn't blocked by walkers, so I took a deep breath as I came to the realization.

I was going to have to fight my way out.