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"Hold him down." I tightened my grip around Hershel's wrists as I held him against the ground. Rick was fast with his movements, removing his belt only to wrap it tightly above Hershel's wound. Something always had to go wrong.
Our plan started out smooth. Then again, the shit doesn't fly into the fan until someone throws it.
We were working in the hidden part of the prison, the darkened hallways masking our stealth movements as we stumbled around unknown corners. There were a few walkers here and there, but it wasn't until the moans grew and the footsteps came faster that panic rose in my veins. Maggie and Glenn were nowhere to be seen. Hershel moved ahead of the group, calling for his daughter in distress.
His shouts were transformed from worry into agony as the walker sunk its teeth into his leg. Adrenaline sparked instantly, lighting a quick fire deep in my bones. The group rushed their motions, heads turning and eyes wandering for any place safe enough to perform an amputation.
Daryl found the somewhat lit room. It had tables and open space much like the cell block we had transformed into a living area. He ushered us in with low grunts before shutting the door behind him. He jammed an arrow in between the handles of the doors, as if that'd be enough to hold back the corpses pounding against the other side. T-Dog forced a bent pipe through to add a better source of protection. As soon as my thoughts were gathered, I joined the others as they surrounded Hershel on the ground.
That's how we got here.
"Keep him quiet, Mags." I said to the teary eyed woman. She closed a gentle hand against her father's lips, whispering her apologizes as his rapid breath came in unsteady huffs through his flared nostrils. "That's not enough." I spoke only to myself, my eyes wandering across Rick's handiwork and to the pool of blood seeping onto the cement.
"This is going to hurt." I scanned Hershel's eyes, his head held up by Glenn's careful hands. I waited for the slight nod of acceptance. I held my grip tight around the remainder of the belt, blowing out a harsh breath to pull as hard as I could. Rick did a good job, but he didn't cut off all circulation. I knew that we needed the homemade tourniquet as tight as possible. I bit the inside of my lip and forced my composure to remain steady as Hershel's muffled screams echoed their way into my eardrums.
"Only one way to keep you alive." Rick talked over Hershel's begging gasps for air. I danced my sight from the hatchet to the wrists beneath mine in thought. "I got him." Maggie whispered to me. She must've sensed my internal debate, because without another word her small fingers replaced mine. She nodded at me, telling me in silence to help Rick. I shuffled over to Hershel's foot, holding him still with a forceful grip. I could feel my knuckles turning white as the man wriggled beneath me, trying with all his might to get away from the impending pain he was about to be in.
