Call me England Dixon

Chapter 25: Hershel...

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I don't know how long I've been. 10 minutes? 20? Maybe more?

"Hey! You move, Sh*thead! Get us there!" I hear Shane yell.

I stop running for a split second just to turn at the man.

"How far?! How far?!"

"A-Another half mile!" He points in the direction we're running to. "That way. H-Hershel. Talk to Hershel. He'll help your boy!" He yells out breath.

I didn't bother turning back as I kept running. Running to save my son's life.

I grunt as I keep running. I feel out of breath, but I don't stop. No, I keep going.

I see a house up in front, making me run faster. I run and run until I'm right in front of about 5 people?

"Was he bit?" An old man asks.

"Shot. By your man."

"Otis?" I hear a female say, but I ignore her.

"He said,'' Find Hershel. Is that you?" I say to the old man. He nods his head. "Help. Help my boy!" I cry out.

"Get him inside," he says. We walked into his house.

He gives out orders, but I block them, focusing my attention on Carl. They lead me into this room.

"In here." he takes off a blanket from a bed. I lay Carl down, keeping my eyes on him.  "Pillowcase."

"Is he alive?"

"Pillowcase, Quick!" He orders.

I grab the pillow, taking off the case.

"Fold it, make a pad. Put pressure on the wound." I do as he says. He grabs some type of tool and checks Carl. "I've got a heartbeat. It's faint." he says, making a breath of relief.
"I got it, step back." A woman says to me. Taking my position. I step back at the end of the bed watching them.

"Your name?" The old man, Herschel asks.

"R-Rick"

"Rick?"

"I-I'm Rick."

"Rick, we're gonna do everything we can, Okay? You need to give us some room. Now." He demands. I nod, stepping out of the room. Onto the front porch, where I see Shane and that man Otis, coming up.

"He's alive? He's still alive?" Otis asks. I don't bother answering.

I wipe my face with my hand. I don't feel ok.

"hey... okay." Shane steps up to me quietly. He grabs out a rag from his bag and starts wiping my face. "You've got blood, man." He puts the rag in my hands and I shakely start wiping them. "I'll take it from you. Where is he? Where is he? Is he okay?" He asks. I just open the door, walk into the room Carl's in.

We see Hershel pressing down on Carl's wound with a clean rag.

"You know his blood type?" He asks as soon as we walk in the room. I nod.

"A-positive. Same as mine." I responded. He nods his head.

"That's fortunate. Don't wander far. I'm gonna need you. What happened?" He looks over at Otis.

"I was teaching a buck. Bullet went through it. Went clean through." The man responds shakely.

"The deer slowed the bullet down, which certainly saved his life. But it did not go clean through. It broke up into pieces. If I can get the bullet fragments out and I'm counting 6."