Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

39: Infected

In a measure to prevent the flu from spreading, we placed all the people showing any kind of symptoms in A-Block, quarantine, while also sectioning off a safe area for the younger and older members of our group. The rest of us would need to be working; going on supply runs for medicine, tending to the crops, and, unfortunately, digging graves.

My dad and I took up the latter job, even though he despised the idea of my help. Although we had both already been exposed to the sickness, we wore gloves and bandanas as we dug the graves for extra precaution.

Even though fall had finally arrived, and the air was starting to cool, the hot, Georgia sun beating down on Dad and I felt scalding. The top of my head was so hot, I was surprised that it hadn't spontaneously burst into flames by then.

By the time I had forced myself to finish three graves, I decided I had earned a small break. I slung my shovel out of the grave I had just complete, but struggled as I heaved myself back up to the ground. Once I finally made it, I let my feet dangle in the hole as I sat on its edge, downing the remaining water I had in one, swift take.

I exhaled heavily after I finished, and re-did the ponytail holding my hair back, making sure to grab all the free hairs that had come loose in the midst of my labor.

"Doin' alright, Dad?" I asked as I finished securing my hair. I looked over to the grave that he was digging, and saw that he, too, was taking a break. His back was to me, and he had both his hands pressed up against the dirt surrounding him. His head was bowed to his chest, and I raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"Dad, you okay?"

I spoke louder that time, and he snapped his head up at the sound of my voice. He turned around to face me, and I didn't fail to notice how he leaned up against the dirt wall behind him for support.

"Yeah, m' good. Might need some more water, though, if ya don't mind."

I nodded, pushing myself into a standing position. "'Kay. I'll go get some. Rest, until then. You look beat," I told him.

He gave me a curt nod, sighing heavily as I walked away.

I ran up to the prison supply room and rounded up two bottles of water, taking a long sip out of one of them before I headed back outside. When I did, though, the last thing I expected to be met with was a panicked Rick rushing past me, heading for the east fence. I looked down there, and let out a shocked gasp when I saw a ton of walkers surrounding the fence. It was leaning heavily, and looked like it would cave in at any moment.

At seeing that, I utterly dropped the water bottles and rushed over to help them. When I reached the fence, Glenn, Sasha, Rick, and Maggie were already there, trying to take out as many walkers as they could. I contributed, but even with all our efforts combined, there were just too many for us to take out.

"Sidney!" I heard Rick call over the walker's grotesque noises. I looked over to him, raising my eyebrows.

"Go get Daryl, and tell him to bring one of the trucks!"

I nodded, and darted off as quick as my legs would take me. I didn't know how long the fence would hold up, but with walkers pressing up against it like cheap mothers would at the opening of a store on Black Friday, I knew it couldn't be long.