Collision

Chapter Thirteen

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

Ellie's P.O.V.

"Go!" I yelled, pushing myself to get up with a wound.

"We can't just leave her," Carl insisted. For about thirty seconds, they'd been debating what to do with me. Fear probably settled in their thoughts. Hell, it even settled in mine. Since the time I first got bit, I felt pain for an entire day, but I didn't have a fever. Now, the pain was worse. I couldn't move anything below my right knee, and so I stood with a struggle. I was scared - who wouldn't be? I was fearful of what would happen if I got bit again. Although I'd been declared immune, I didn't trust anyone else's judgments.

"We can't take her either, she's been bit! Twice!" Michonne demanded.

Rick thought for a moment before finally speaking, "she's coming with us, but if something happens, we won't let it become a problem."

I scoffed. They were talking about me while I was right in front of them. How thoughtful.

Carl came to my side, "c'mon, I'll help you up. Here, put your arm around my shoulder."

I nodded and did as he said. My right leg was stinging with pain, but I bit my lip to keep tears from rushing out of my eyes.

"We have to move! Let's go!" Rick yelled, crushing an infected's head with a massive rock he found. Blood gushed out everywhere.

Michonne took the lead running in front of us, her katana swaying in its holster on her back. Finn was still keeping hold of his daughter while holding Lia's hand. Rick was behind us, making sure none of them could sneak up on us anymore.

I was struggling to keep up. With every push of my left leg, my right one got worse.

"You're not putting any weight on me," Carl whispered.

"I don't want to burden you," I replied, trying to keep a steady pace.

"Ellie, it's okay to rely on me. Your leg alone can't handle your weight by itself, don't strain it."

I swallowed my pride and nodded, trying to use Carl's body to hold my mass. He was right, and the minute I leaned on him, we were already moving faster than before. We had a rhythm; my left leg with his right would move, and his left leg with my right would swing.

"There's an old shed, maybe about five kilometres from here. I don't see any movements around it," Michonne informed, taking a clear view of what was up ahead. I, on the other hand, had blurry vision, making my thoughts cloudy.

"We can take the risk. The walkers will lose sight of us as long as we keep moving fast and we don't make a sound," Rick instructed. Everyone nodded their heads and proceeded to move again.

It felt like years once we reached the shed. It was bigger than the average shed, with windows on the sides. It consisted of wood which wasn't damaged too badly, giving it a stronger structure. The seven of us walked to the door and saw a piece of paper attached on it. It read, 'Leave me be.' Carl and I took a look in the inside through the window, only to find a body on the ground, a rifle close to it's hands.

"Stay back, I'll check if it's alive." Rick opened the door, and after I heard the swinging of an axe from inside, he started dragging the body out, the blood leaving a trail on the ground. "Alright, it's safe. Go on in there, I'm going to make sure no walkers succesfully followed us. Finn, could you make sure she's alright?" Finn nodded as he followed behind me.

Carl helped me inside, letting me sit down on a rusted tin bucket. He gave me a look of concern and I nodded him off, telling him I was okay despite my wounded leg. Finn put a hand to my forehead, examining my body temperature.

"You've got no fever, but we still have to keep an eye on that, it could arise at any given moment now. The bite looks bad, but your skin isn't discoloured, which would be a good sign. Carl, could you try finding any medical kits here? Clean water, anything that could clean up an open wound," Finn asked, and Carl obediently nodded and ran off to the other side of the shed. "Do you feel dizzy? Any hallucinations?"

I shook my head, "but my leg feels like it's going to explode."

He took a closer look at my leg and immediately took action. "The blood is rushing out. Here, you need to lie down and elevate your leg."

I did as I was told and laid down on the cold cement, lifting my foot up and resting it on the bucket. As I did this, Carl returned with a bottle in his hand.

"I only found this, I don't know if it will do any good, though," He offered, giving the bottle to Finn, who closely examined the labels. The glass bottle was half full, the liquid was brown-ish, and it looked like it was full of sweet tea.

"Good job Carl, whiskey does a great job of killing bacteria. It will hurt more than the average wound cleaner, but it will work."

"How do you know all of this stuff?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the pain.

"I watched an episode of Survivor Man where he fell and had nothing but alcohol with him to treat his cut," He replied. With that, Finn took my right leg in his hand and poured the contents of the bottle.

I wailed in pain. The distraction definitely didn't work. I felt as if I were slowly being burned from my feet all the way to my head. My eyes closed from torment and I bit my sleeve, attempting to calm myself down.

When it was all over, Finn ripped his sleeves from his grey plaid shirt, tied them together, and wrapped them around the bite. The pressure from the cloth was unbearable, but it felt a million times better than the alcohol. At the end of it, beads of sweat were dripping from my forehead to my nose.

Carl sat down beside me.

"You're not going to die on us," he stated, taking off his sheriff hat. I took a closer look at him. I never saw him without his hat on before, and in heaven's name did he look good. His hair was forming in single strands, all from the sweat of running. His bangs were swept just above his eyebrows, revealing his clear blue eyes, and his skin, his flawless skin... "What?"

"What?" I repeated his question, waking myself up from my daydream.

"You're looking at me weird."

"You've got blood on your face," I quickly lied. What else would I say without sounding downright weird?

"Oh," he breathed, and started wiping his face with his hands, not knowing that there was nothing to wipe. "Better?" I nodded. Silence fell on us as we watched Finn tending to his little girl. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I tend to do that to a lot of people," I told him, referring to the bite on my arm.

"I know you're not going to turn, though," He stated as a matter of factly. I turned my head towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"No? And why is that? I could just end up dead like them in a matter of minutes or hours," I reminded him, taking note of his heavy breathing.

"Because you're immune. You're not going going to turn and I know it," Carl paused for a few moments to breath before speaking again. "And because I will make it a promise not to let you die on my hands."