America in catastrophe

Chapter 23

I don't sleep through the storm, over the snarls and roars of the wind. The tearing of trees and the bullets of rain.

The herd doesn't either. Oblivious to the branches and the wet. The cold and the wind.

Daryl hears them first, carefully unraveling himself from me, he stands. Walks the barn, looking through holes in the wood.

The barn door heave in on themselves. The wood groans.

Daryl rushes it, slamming his shoulder into the wood to hold them back.

I rise, limping across the dirt, stumbling, I press my back into the door beside him.

Rick stirs next when I scream in pain, my ankle pinned into a rut in the ground from the force behind the door.

Daryl can't help, can't pull his hands away.

Rick collides beside me. Roaring a war cry over the wind and the herd.

Then the red headed man steps up. And then Eugene, and michonne, and Carl. Sasha and Carol. All of us.

Back, shoulders, palms. Whatever it takes. Through the gaps in the wood, in the flashes of lightning. Walkers advance.

We push back. Over the wind and the rain. The thunder and the lightning. We push back against it all. Together.

Until there is nothing but noise.

*********

Daryl's head is resting on top of mine. Shoulder to shoulder against the door.

We slid down the wood hours ago. I fell first. Unable to stand, unable to breathe. I might have passed out. I can't really remember. I ripped three more stitches in my side, and I split open a few on my cheek. Daryl slid down beside me with his rag, holding it closed with his hand.

Maggie and Glenn are asleep almost on top of one another not far away. Everyone is closer to the door. On top of one another.

The herd was swept away by the storm. Or maybe we were. The roof has a hole in it now, letting in the first slivers of blue sky.

Maggie, asleep almost directly under the hole stirs first. The sun brightening her skin.

She sits up, wiping at her face. Blinks away the deep purple under each eye. And looks towards us.

"You should get some sleep." She remarks before noticing the rag Daryl still has pressed to my face.

She peels it away, looking over the bloody splotch on my skin. "I think it'll be okay for now." She leans over unlacing my boot slowly. I hiss, pressing my nose into Daryl's shoulder.

He tightens his grip on my shoulder.

Maggie gingerly pulls my boot off, wincing at my skin peels away with it, my foot is a bloody mess, red and oozing.

Daryl hisses.

Maggie straightens my foot and tightens the almost black bandages around my ankle. "I don't even know if this will heal." She remarks.

I exhale through my teeth. "It's fine."

"No it's not, you need... an actual doctor." Maggie slides my boot back in and tightens the laces, wrapping them around my ankle to hold it better.

Daryl presses a kiss to my forehead and helps me up, carrying me back across the barn to the back. He pulls a small music box from his bag and brings it to Maggie. "Had some gunk around the gears." He explains.

She takes it and goes to wake Sasha. The pair slip out the door into the carnage.

Daryl sits down beside me, tucking me back into his chest. "We'll find someone to help." He rasps, peeling my shirt back to look at my side.