Never Had Wings | Walking Dead Fanfic | Sequel to AWAS

Day 302: Ghosts from the past

Just like to apologise for any errors in either grammar, spelling or layout. I typed this thing up on my phone which, considering it was me, was pretty impressive. So thanks and see ya, keep commenting too please- I really need some support to keep me writing this at the moment. :(

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Day 302:  Ghosts from the past

     Electra wished she could say that she had never seen so much blood in her life but then she would be lying. So unlike everybody else, she was calm and collected when Rick chopped Hershel's lower leg off. Their appalled expressions were unseen by her as she started to press down on his knee and his falling into unconsciousness failed to phase her.

     "Would anyone mind giving me a hand?" she enquired as if she were asking someone to help her move a cabinet rather than asking someone to help her tend to a man who had literally just lost a limb. However no reply came to her urgent request. "God dammit, is anybody even listening to me?" she half questioned-half growled at those around her.

      "Who the hell are you?" A new voices came to be heard by Electra - a voice of one of the five prisoners that were in a close proximity to them. Electra noted this before looking back down at Hershel.

      "Could ask ya'll the same question, mate." she said, adding the mate with an unfriendly tone rather than the friendliness it ought to harbour. "Except no time to." she stated casually before she turned to Rick with q rock-hard expression on her face. "He's bleeding out, we gotta go and we gotta go now." she told Rick whose eyes stayed with hers for a moment before he slowly nodded in agreement.

     "Alright, alright." Rick mimicked Electra's current position. "Maggie, come around here. Put pressure on the knee." he ordered, allowing Electra to remove her hands from the knee. Hard, hard. Push, push." he instructed hastily.

     "Why don't you come on outta there?" Daryl suggested, his crossbow aiming on the five individuals in a random pattern. "Slow and steady." Daryl ordered, dragging his words out for as long as possible working on keeping them all in the crosshairs of his crossbow whilst they gradually entered their territory.

     "What happened?" The smallest African American, Andrew, questioned whilst glancing at the unconscious Hershel with a grimace

     "He got bit." Daryl informed them.

     "Bit?" he queried, confused as what he meant by 'bit? and why it was necessary to cut his leg off because he 'got bit'.

     Carelessly, Electra wiped Herschel's blood off of her hands as she had decided it was A) Problematic B) Unhygenic C) Displeasing and D) Not a nice sight for Beth when they got back. The sight of a gun out of the corner of her eye brought her into the situation.

"Woah, woah, woah." Electra rose to her feet, gun in hand. "Easy now." she said in a patronizing manner as she aimed her gun at the hispanic man, Tomàs, who was wielding the gun. "Nobody needs to get hurt." she stated, raising her eyebrows as if to challenge the curly haired convict to do anything. She placed her other hand on the gun, remembering the rule she had made-axe for the dead, gun for the living....not that she had killed any living.

    "I need you to hold this."

     "Okay."

    "As hard as you can."

     "Yes."

     Electra glanced down at Rick, Maggie and Hershel but her eyes were fixed on Maggie who was desperately pushing down on Hershel's leg, her hands covered with her father's blood. The hard-faced expression she held wavered a little and Daryl could have sworn he saw a look of pity in her mismatched eyes.