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My eyes fluttered open as a white ceiling appeared in my eyesight. I blinked a few time before trying to sit up. Pain pierced my stomach almost immediately. A groan escaped my lips as I stopped all movement.

"Josephine?" I heard Ryan say.

His face appeared in my vision. Relief flashed in his eyes. Though I was more concerned about the red circles around his eyes than as to why he was so relieved. My eyes slowly inspected my surroundings only to see unknown territory.

"Ryan? What the hell happened?" I mumbled.

My voice was raspy and the entirety of my body hurt. Like it fought a battle that I wasn't conscious for. The last thing I remember is watching a deer with Carl and then darkness. A complete and utter nothingness.

"You got shot, you dumbass, scared me half to death. Rick brought you here where they operated on you."

"Where is here, exactly?"

"A farm that belongs to the family of the man that shot you."

I raised my eyebrows feeling confused by the story Ryan was telling me. Well, I can now add a bullet scar to my long list of scars covering my body. They're mostly centered on my back.

"That sounds like the beginning of a bad joke." I grumbled.

A soft chuckle left his lips before a few tears slipped from his eyes. He quickly wiped them away in hopes that I didn't see them. But I did. Things must've been bad if he was this upset by the whole ordeal.

The doors opened and an old man walked in with Rick and Shane following him. His white hair matched his beard. He was quite tall for someone his age. Or at least it seemed that way to me.

"I thought I heard voices. My name is Hershel." The old man introduced himself.

I narrowed my eyes giving him a once-over. He seems strong enough to use a gun. If he's the one who put me in this state of pain and disorientation, he's never getting rid of my resentment.

"Are you the guy who shot me?" I asked.

Bitterness laced my voice as I tried to sit up for a second time. Ryan helped me this time and even moved the pillows so I'd be more comfortable. Hershel looked down at the floor as a look of sadness overtook his features.

"No, that was Otis. He passed away finding a respirator for you." He replied.

I shifted uncomfortably as my eyes landed on Rick. His eyes were bloodshot and tired. Though a relieved look was firmly planted on his face. I never thought I'd see the day where he was worried about my wellbeing.

"You look like shit, Ranger Rick." I teased.

He cracked a smile despite the severity of the situation. If he expected me to take a gunshot wound seriously, then he obviously didn't know me well enough. But my humor seemed to put him at ease.

"I'm glad you're okay, Josephine." He said.

I smirked at him as Shane stepped forward. He shaved his head since the last time that I saw him. It made him look more tough. Everyone seemed on edge and I feel like I'm missing a big piece of the puzzle here.

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