𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

26 | A GOOD DAY

"This way, this way," Daryl whisper-yelled, leading the way through the darkened halls. His flashlight illuminated only what was right ahead of him as he looked back over his shoulder. "Come on!"

Tori ran alongside the moving table whilst still holding onto Hershel's wound. The blood on her hands was starting to dry, feeling sticky and cold on her skin.

"Carl, open the door!" Rick shouted as they entered the cell block. "Open the door, it's Hershel!"

The kid rushed to turn the key, letting the group inside. "Daddy!" Beth cried, beginning to cry at the sight of her father.

"In here, quickly!" Tori rushed to get Hershel into the nearest cell.

Things were swiped off the bottom bunk before the group worked together to moved Hershel from the table to the mattress. His body was limp, and his face was white as a sheet. Tori checked for a pulse, letting herself be relieved when she felt his heartbeat.

Everyone gathered outside of the cell, hearts pounding, lungs struggling to take normal breaths. They watched as Tori knelt beside the bed, and Beth and Maggie had to look away, seeing how much of their father's blood was covering the brunette's clothes and hands.

"Alright, I need bandages, uh- towels, blankets. Anything to cover the wound." Tori shook a little as she spoke, but didn't let herself become distracted.

She focussed on the job despite her growing fears and the pressure building in her head. Hershel had been helping her learn more medical practices whilst on the road, but thankfully, there were never any instances where such procedures were necessary. Until right now. Everything she had learnt or read, every little piece of information or fact, was bouncing around her brain like a thousand ping-pong balls flinging in a hundred different directions.

Carol crouched beside the brunette with a couple of pillowcases, putting as much pressure as she could onto the bloody stump. "We need more."

"We used all we had," Glenn panted.

"Carl," Lori called to her son. "Uh- under my bed, the backpack. There are clean towels. Go grab them for me."

"Okay," Carl rushed a nod, running off to grab the bag.

"Is he gonna die?" Beth whimpered.

"No, honey, he's gonna be just fine," Lori gently assured her, pulling her into a comforting, almost motherly, embrace.

"You think you can stabilize it?" Rick asked Tori with a calm tone. He could see she was flustered, and was careful not to stress her out anymore.

"I need his leg to stay elevated," Tori said, holding Hershel's leg up with one hand, Carol pressing a towel over his wound with the other. "Uh, pillows. I need pillows." Rick nodded, patting her shoulder before running off to get what she asked for.

"He's already bled through the sheets," Maggie saw, her tear-filled eyes locked onto the never-ending flow of blood.

Glenn knelt beside Tori, "We could burn the wound to stop the blood. I-I can start a fire."

"God no, please..." Beth whispered, tears cascading down her fair face. Maggie went to her younger sister, reaching for her hand.

"We can't," Carol realised, focussing on holding the wound. "The shock could kill him. All we can do it keep it covered, and let it heal on its own."

Tori's focus was stuttering, and she did everything she could to push through it. Her head was spinning with the smell and the feeling of the blood that covered pretty much everything around her, including herself. Her hands began to shake while she reached for more towels, and someone grabbed her wrist gently.