Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Sixty-Five: Antivirals

•sixty-five•

Beatrix

"Thank you for helping out, Hershel," I smile at him while taking a sip of his Elderberry tea.

"It's no problem," he smiles back. "Anything to help my people."

"Well, we can use all the help we can get," I stand up once I hear a lot of coughing coming from one of the nearby cells. "Let's see what's going on."

I run to Henry's cell, he was one of the people from Woodbury, to see him coughing up blood. Hershel, Glenn, and Sasha are close behind with the makeshift medical cart we had made. I grab some gloves and a mask before helping Henry sit up. He immediately coughs, sending blood splattering all over me.

"Henry, it's gonna be okay," I say, while Glenn and Sasha hold him up. "Can you breathe?"

He tries to answer, but nothing comes out other than a cough, well and blood. Gross. He shakes his head no, the coughing just not stopping.

"Okay, let's lay him down," I say, helping Glenn and Sasha lay him back down gently. "We need to intubate."

"I've got it," Hershel says, turning to grab the intubation supplies from the cart. I hold Henry's head tilted back, trying my best to keep his mouth open as Hershel sticks the laryngoscope in his throat.

"Henry, calm down, okay?" I try to keep him still as he thrashes around, trying to reject the intubation tube. "We're trying to help."

"There you go," Hershel says calmly after he inserts the tube and starts bagging him, filling his lungs with the oxygen he desperately needs.

"Here, you two both need some of this," I take the large canister of Hershel's tea and pour it into two metal cups, handing one to Glenn and one to Sasha.

"Some council meeting, huh?" Hershel tries to joke, and I laugh because it's a good one, in a sinister way.

"We're a few members short," Sasha tries to laugh, but it only ends in another episode of coughing for her.

"I think we should make some new rules before they get back," Hershel looks between the three of us, still bagging Henry. "I hereby declare Spaghetti Tuesdays every Wednesday."

Sasha gives him an "are you serious?" look, while Glenn and I chuckle.

"We might have to find some spaghetti first," Hershel smiles softly before turning to Sasha. "Are you good to take over?"

"Yeah," Sasha strains out, though she doesn't look very good to me.

"One breath every five or six seconds. If you feel like you can't keep going, get somebody to come help you," he instructs Sasha before looking to me and Glenn. "You two ready for rounds?"

"I'll take downstairs with Lucas," I nod, getting up and heading to the stairs.

"Beatrix," Lucas calls as soon as he sees me. "Shane is doing worse."

"Shit," I mumble, running to Shane's cell. He's laying on the bed, pale as a ghost, and he looks like he could croak at any minute. "Hey, Shane."

"H-hey," Shane says, followed by an extreme cough fit. He tries to sit up, but I push him right back down. "Don't strain yourself, okay? You're gonna be fine."

"Listen, Beatrix, no I ain't," he shakes his head, each word coming out with a strain. "I'm gonna die from this shit. I'm immune to the damn walkers, but the flu is gonna take me out."

"Don't think like that," I frown at him.

"Here," Lucas taps me on the shoulder, handing me an oxygen mask.