infection | D. Dixon

chapter fourty-four

late

Fang ran toward Daryl with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He happily jumped around the man, oblivious to the man's broken state. The others stayed around a small fire, sadness overtook them all, but no one quite as much as Daryl. With his back to the group he let out another shaky sigh. His cigarette sent a perfect trail of smoke into the air. "Git." Daryl scolded. "Go find someone to play with." Daryl spat at the ground next to him.

The dog's ears perked up and he tugged on Daryl's shoelace. He sat on the ground and pressed his nose to Daryl's leg.

"The hell do you want?" Daryl snapped again, pulling his leg away. The dog stood, running off into the tree line. "Damn dog." He sighed, picking up his crossbow to follow the dog.

The dog led him to a field outside of terminus. He groaned as the dog jumped happily around, sniffing at the ground and nudging the grass with its nose.

The dog bent over to grab a stick, bringing it over for Daryl to throw. He threw it, and the dog brought it back. When he brought it back Daryl looked at it. It was the stick he had shoved into Anastasia's hand so she could fight. He shivered and lit another cigarette. He stood, throwing the stick. The dog didn't follow, instead the dog stayed next to him and hung its tongue from the side of its mouth.

Daryl sighed and looked at the end of his cigarette. She was gone, there wasn't anything he could protect her from, nothing he could help her through or cure. She was - gone. He didn't even get to see a body or say goodbye. His last words to her were take this, fight. We're gunna be okay. Except she wasn't okay, and neither was he. How could he be when she was dead? He pressed his cigarette to his wrist. It burned, but it didn't burn as much as the hole he felt inside. He did it again, and again, until there was a collection of small burns along the inside of his wrist.

The dog ran over to the center of the field and barked. Daryl sighed and stood, throwing a nearby stick. Daryl walked over to where the dog was, and there, in the center of the field, lay her body.

Her shirt was bloody and torn, her face was peaceful and dirty. His breath caught in his throat, he reached down to touch her face, her skin still had heat. He touched her neck, and felt a faint and uneven pulse. "Wake up, wake up. C'mon baby girl." He said, trying to shake her awake.

Her eyes fluttered open and focused on him. Her dry lips opened slightly. "Leave... D-aryl... I-m bitte-n." She rasped, moving away from his touch.

He ignored her and scooped up her body, causing her to hiss in pain. "It's okay, baby. keep talking." He said as he quickly carried her back to camp.

Once he broke through the trees he laid her next to the camp he had set up for himself. Her bag was sitting next to an overturned tree. He pulled out a couple painkillers and helped her wash them down with water. "Daryl?" Rick asked.

"Get Eugene to DC to try and get the cure ready." Daryl grunted. "Send Merle over here. He brought the damn dog, wouldn't have found her otherwise."

Rick sighed, "she's been bitten, there's not much we can do."

"Do it, Rick! She wouldn't be in this place if she hadn't come to save your ass! Now go and get the god damn cure!" He screamed, holding back tears.

Rick left without another word, but it seemed to hang in the air. This was Rick's fault; the cure wouldn't be made fast enough. Daryl cleaned the wound with whiskey and a clean cloth. He did his best to clean it. He and Merle helped Carol as she tried to use cold tags to bring down her fever, and she was on a steady flow of the painkillers she had been hoarding.

When Eugene left with Abraham and Rosita it was known among the group she wouldn't make it long enough to see them return. Maggie helped boil rags in water to keep them clean and Glenn helped Carl stitch the wound cleanly, since Anastasia had apparently taught him a while ago. Everyone around seemed to help the hunter, even if it seemed helpless.

After Anastasia made it through the night and the next day spirits seemed lifted a little. Maggie started talking about having hope for the cure, and Glenn started a lookout for the RV the group had left in. Anastasia was kept in the shade, a constant fire boiled water and heated soup that Carol had made.

Carl sat next to Anastasia the whole night, holding her hand. He was being really grown up about the whole situation, he cleaned her face with a rag and changed her sweater and boots so she'd be comfortable. He used his backpack under her head and had picked flowers for when she woke up.

Carol smiled softly over at him, then resumed watching Daryl. Daryl sat close to Anastasia, his foot touching her other side, the feeling of her breath calming him a little.

"They're here!" Glenn shouted. Jumping off the car roof to run to the RV. The group got out of the RV with smiles on their faces.

"I think I did it, but I only had enough for one rat test and one final product... it hasn't need tested in humans." Eugene said, looking at Daryl for permission.

Daryl looked at Anastasia as she lay on the ground. Most of her color had drained from her face, her lips had split open, and her breathing had become even more shallow than it had been previously. He looked back at Rick, who laid his hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"What are you waiting for?" Carl asked from her side, tears had begun to run down his cheeks, leaving clean strikes on dirty skin.

Daryl nodded at Eugene to use it. He didn't look as the man made his was over to the girl, he couldn't force himself to turn around even after Eugene said it was done. Would she have wanted this? He knew she would want a part in the cure, so he assumed she would gladly take it. Hell, she's get bit so no one else would be in danger.

After a short while of an eerie silence between them all someone spoke. "You know what I find kind of ironic?" Eugene said from next to the fire where she lay. When no one answered him, he sighed but laughed at some unknown joke. "Anastasia, roughly translated, means 'resurrect'." Daryl finally looked at him, he fixated a flare his way. "That's why, if you'd all agree, I'd like to name the cure after her."

Daryl's face softened a little but his angry stance kept. Rick didn't even blink before he said, "I think she would love that. Good idea, Eugene. Thank you."

Daryl scoffed and looked over at her, she looked no better, but she didn't look worse either. Carol changed her bandages and wiped at the girl's sweaty forehead with a cloth. "Her breathing is getting a little deeper." Carol beamed.

Carl's grin spread more than hers as he jumped up from sitting next to her to put his hand to her forehead. "She's not as hot!" Carl chimed, his smile was contagious as everyone around him started to grin, but Daryl's face remained blank. He wouldn't get his hopes up until he could see her beautiful bright eyes.

Anastasia had gotten a little better over the next few hours. She hadn't woken up, but her skin had gotten some color back. The group decided they had to move her inside for the next night, so Daryl carried her gently into the RV. The group then set off in the direction of the prison.

"What if it works?" Rick asked Daryl. "Do we start investing time and resources to go to the lab they created this thing? Start injecting the infected?"

Daryl scoffed and flexed his fingers against Anastasia's hand. "I think that's a load of crap. Only one way to put em down, you know that."

"We need it to work." Rick said sadly. "I was wrong to defy her before; she knew all along. I need to apologize, you need her too. We've all seen that."

"Ye won't get a chance." Daryl hissed. "She's gone."