Deadland

Chapter 50- Wound

"Well, if you know she's your half-sister, why are you never hanging around her?" 

The question hits me like a punch in the gut. I chew on my lower lip slightly. 

"She just reminds me of my dad." Damien looks at me suspiciously. "There's more to it. I don't think it's just that." I don't look at Damien, I just continue watching my feet as I kick the rock. 

A sigh releases from my lips, "She reminds me of...when my dad was not my dad. When he was fucking obsessed with Lori. When he backhanded me. When he was...in-" I pause for a moment. "Insane," I say quieter. "He began to remind me of Nick. He treated Lori the same way Nick treated me after we broke up. That's why I began to refer to him as Shane instead of my dad. Why I started keeping my distance from him." 

Damien listens attentively. "I get that." I shake my head and look at him. "But you don't." My gaze wavers back to my feet as I quickly use the tip of my shoe to roll the rock back to me so I can kick it again. 

"Nobody does." It's silent for a moment, the only sounds are our shoes when we take a step and the rocks rolling on the ground. 

"Here." Damien nods towards a kitchen. I nod and we turn right, our rocks leading us. 

When I get inside the kitchen, there's nothing other than a can of beans and Spam. The kitchen has an open window to a cafeteria, silver storage shelves everywhere, and a few stoves and refrigerators. 

My face drops and I purse my lips. "You're fucking me." I groan. "I would," Damien says, nudging me. I scoff, "Yeah but that's Daryl's job." Damien laughs and grabs the two cans of food and shoves them into his bag.

"Check the fridges real quick," I suggest, limping over to the fridges. "You're limping." Damien notes. "My wound hurts. Just from being on my 'feet' all day." I admit, opening an empty refrigerator. 

"Have you unwrapped the bandage recently?" I nod, "Like yesterday morning." "It could be infected." "Meh." Damien closes the last refrigerator door and turns to me. 

"Unwrap it." "No. That's so much work for so little reward." "God you're lazy." Damien says, groaning and rolling his eyes. "I'm fine. Let's just-" 

Daryl peeks his head through the doorway. "Y'all ready?" "Yep." I respond, grabbing my bag and limping over to him. He looks at me concernedly. 

"Are you-" "Limping? Yes. She is." Damien interrupts, condescendingly. "It's fine. I can unwrap it in the car, 'ight?" Damien and Daryl exchange glances with each other. 

I have to admit, that the more I walk, the more my wound hurts. It just feels tender, like I just got a paper cut or something. When I put pressure on it, it gets worse.

"Fine." Damien spits, walking past me and to the rest of the group. "Damn. Who's stick is up your dick?" "Did you say dick instead of ass because I'm gay?" Damien scoffs, raising an eyebrow. "Yep!" I giggle. 

"'s go." Daryl nods to the hallway and I quickly jog to catch up with them as they begin walking. 

Daryl leads us to a door before stopping, "Woah, woah, woah." He whispers, shining his light in the door's window.  

There's a whole small herd of Walkers just stumbling in circles in the room. 

"Nice." I whisper, rolling my eyes. "'s go this way." Daryl whispers, quietly running the other way. 

All of us follow closely behind him. 

Michonne runs in front of him and leads us into a non-Walker-infested room.