Together ~ A Carl Grimes Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My mum and I tiptoe through the third house on this street. Carl and Michonne are across the street and Rick is back at the house. "Look," I say, as I find four knives stashed under a mattress. She nods in approval. She finds a bag of penne pasta and a can of beans. I smile, thinking of when that I asked Rick to get pasta, before everything at the prison went to shit. I tuck them into my back pack. I've taken it with me because I want to stay prepared and I have a bad feeling, in my gut, about today. I find some cough candy in a drawer, and shove it in my pocket.

We walk out onto the street and I notice Carl and Michonne entering the fifth house on the street. Normally Carl would flash me his crooked grin but he's upset and he has been since breakfast. To be honest his mood swings are giving me whiplash.

I'm distracted and quite a bit behind my mother when we go into the next house. By the time I find her, she's wrestling three walkers. I drag one to the floor and stab it in the eye. My mum gets another in the temple. As I go to get the last one off of her, she falls to the ground, holding the walker at arm's length. "No," I try to say, but no sound comes. The walker sinks it's teeth into her left hand as a gunshot rings through the air. The walker slumps to the ground as I run to my mum. "No!" I cry. Carl stands in the doorway, gun in hand. "We heard the struggle. A few walkers are heading this way but Michonne's taking care of it."

"I don't care. Seriously, my mum is dying and all you can talk about is walkers?" I snap at him. "I can't lose her. She's all I have left."

"She doesn't have to die," he says. I look puzzled.

"What?"

"Yeah, Hershel was bitten. My dad amputated it."

"What?" I repeat.

"Cut it off!" he says more clearly. I get to work immediately.

"Belt!" I snap at Carl. He whips it off in two quick moves. "Find a long piece of material," I continue. "For a tourniquet. Cauterize or stitch, mum," I prompt. Carl dashes upstairs as fast as he can.

"Cauterize," she says without hesitation. Michonne comes into the house, closing the door behind her. She pushes the sofa in front of the door. She turns around and shock flashes across her face.

"Oh my God! What can I do? How can I help?" she says, stumbling over her words.

"Start a fire in the kitchen, then you'll have to cut it off. You have the best aim." I order. "When you start the fire, lay something wide, flat and metal on it, until it is red-hot." Michonne nods. Carl sprints downstairs with a bundle of white linen in his arms.

"That's all I can find," he says, apologetically. I nod. I tie a bed sheet around my mother's wrist, tighter and tighter, until her hand starts to go pale, and the blood struggles to drip from the bite.

"Look for any painkillers or antibiotics you can find," I say. Carl goes running.

"You know, you shouldn't be so bossy," my mother tells me. I shake my head.

"Stop. Just shut up, mum," I say. "How's the fire coming, Michonne?" I yell.

"It's coming," she replies. Carl throws three boxes my way. Penicillin, with a full two strips, Percocet, four and a half strips, and a full box of Ibuprofen. Then he tosses a strip of Morphine. Whoever lived here must have had some kind of serious medical condition, or they were a severe drug addict, because they liked the strong stuff. I nod. "Have you seen any alcohol?" I ask.

"Just this," he says, disappearing into the kitchen. He returns a few seconds later with a half-empty bottle of whisky. I'm leaning towards drug addict. They really did like the strong stuff.

"Thank you," I say, throwing my arms around him.

"Your mom will be okay. Daryl's brother, Merle, survived cutting his hand off."

"Yeah, but was he bitten?" I ask. Carl shakes his head.

"No, my dad hand-cuffed him to a roof, and an old friend, T-dog, dropped the key. They're both dead now," he says. I weakly smile in sympathy. He half helps, half carries my mother to the kitchen, while I gather everything I need. My mother takes the whiskey from me.

"Great," she says, taking a long swig. I take it back and splash it over her sword, sterilizing it.

"Bite on the belt!" I bark at her. "Try'na save your life here. Michonne!"

"Ready?" she asks my mum. My mother nods. Michonne takes a deep breath and swings.

Sammy's POV

Lizzie is still breathing and my head is bleeding. She hit me with the same piece of wood I hit her with, which is ironic, 'cause she didn't wanna "hurt my brains". Well, she didn't hit hard enough. I'm still here, I have a concussion and a really bad headache but I'm still fighting. Tyreese carried her inside, and tied her up, while I carried Judith. Lizzie was all for killing the poor baby, after she thought I was dead. Carol had to put Mika down, before she turned. I don't understand how things could go south so quickly, I mean, I knew Lizzie was screwed up, but killing her own sister. Wow!

After I've gotten Judith to sleep, I hear Tyreese and Carol speaking in the kitchen. "... She can't stay here. Not with Judith and Sammy," I hear Carol's voice.

"What ya gonna do?" Tyreese asks. I know what she's gonna do and I'm for it. The girl tried to kill me, for goodness sake. Even though I'm for it, I walk away, pretending not to have heard.