Chaos for the Fly [The Walking Dead Fanfiction]

Chapter 7: Sort of Runaway

        "No. Sophia could come back, and if we're not here.." Dale anticipated a fight, and stood between Daryl and the rest of the group. He was right, as the redneck started in Carol's direction. 

        "You selfish bitch! You're daughter ain't the only one in trouble, and I got other promises to make good on. You're wastin' time. If she dies, I'll kill--" 

        "DARYL!" It took every ounce of strength to scream at him through the R.V., but she knew the next words to come out of his words would be regrettable. Something else troubled her as well. What promises had he made, surely none she was aware of? The sickness and the roar of a motorcycle broke her thoughts, as the two women came to check on her. 

        "What the hell happened to you?" Andrea's voice was lacking in concern. 

        "Infection." 

        Carol's shared in the same wonder as the blonde made a motion for her to look at herself. It wasn't her current condition they were curious about. Daryl and Alice didn't get the chance to change clothing, or what remained of it from the prior night. Blood spots littered parts of the wall and head board, while the bloodied sheets were piled in the corner with her stomach bile. "Oh, we had a spat." Both women's eyebrows raised, as if picturing something strange, as the R.V. started to move. "I promise we can come back and make signs, leave food for her in case she comes back to the highway."

        Andrea scoffed, "Your condition begs otherwise. Don't worry Carol, I'll take you back." Alice fought the urge to talk back, as she continued. "I got my gun back now." Her eyes trained back on her green ones, confident she was now certified in protecting people. This time she didn't hold back, letting a small chuckle sneak through for a moment, then it turned into a cough. 

        "I hope, for her sake, you never...have to shoot it." A threat in between the lines. Andrea sneered, but Carol stopped her from talking back.

        "Daryl was right, we need to get you safe and sound. I'm sorry Alice." The distaste in Alice's voice disappeared as it now focused on the mother. 

        "Don't be sorry; you're only looking out for your baby." Carol interlaced her fingers with her own, the way they had done when she was being comforted. 

        "I wasn't too smart, was I?" An empty smile accompanied her words, "I can't have you out of the search. If anyone can find Sophia, it's you after all." 

        "No. It's Daryl."

        The farm wasn't too far from the highway, as the motorcycle died and R.V. stopped. "Guess we're here." Andrea left as Carol tried to help Alice get out of bed and walk. They slowly hobbled out of the stuffy vehicle, and the sun hit her like a car. She keeled over, falling on her knees to the lush green grass. 

        "Alice!" Carol was squatting down to try and coax her back to walking toward the house.

        "Is she gonna be alright?" Dale's voice carried over like a distant echo in some vast canyon. Her green eyes looked up at him, but could hardly make out the features through the spots of light. 

       "She's real sick; we have to get her to the house." Dale went to the other side of her, carrying half of the weight as they carried her to the door. 

        Daryl pushed the front doors open from the farm house, holding his brother's antibiotics in his hand as if he didn't trust anyone to give her any. He stopped in front of them, glaring at Carol and Dale. "You're dragging her!"