'What the hell?' Ella cries out, disrupting my sleep.
'What?' I ask groggily.
'Chris, someone's at the door!'
'What?' I ask again, a little more alert now. Ella's right, it's the middle of the night, but someone's definitely at the door, trying to come in.
'Is something wrong?' Ella asks, sounding scared.
'Shit, I don't know. Did you do something?'
'No!'
I reach out to my nightstand to turn on a light, and just as it flicks on, the door bursts open. I quickly get up from the bed and brace myself for whatever's happening here. To my dismay, it's Simon that enters the room. That can't be good.
'Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, doc', he says, turning on the big light in the room as well. Both Ella and me blink against the sudden brightness. 'You're needed.'
'Needed? Needed for what?' I ask confused, my brain still trying to adjust to this sudden madness.
'What's a doctor usually needed for?' he asks in a condescending tone. 'We've got a medical situation. Now come on, it's time-sensitive.'
'Can I get changed?' I ask, frantically looking around for some clothes. I'm dressed in nothing more than shorts and a t-shirt now, I'd like to at least put on a bra and some shoes before I go to work. But Simon seems set on dragging me to wherever he wants me to go barefoot once again.
'No time', he says, stepping up to grab my arm and pull me towards the door.
'Fine', I say irritatedly, tugging myself loose from his grasp. I lock eyes with Ella shortly before we leave the room and catch the scared expression in her eyes.
'Just go back to bed, El, I'm sure I'll be back soon.'
I try to give her a reassuring smile, but Simon pushes me out and I don't want him to grab me again, so I follow him down the hallway. Seems like they brought the patient to the doctor's office. It must be serious because even when we're still half a hallway away, I can already hear howls and cries echoing towards us.
'What happened?' I ask Simon, my mind finally starting to switch into doctor mode at the sound of obvious distress. I decide to pick up pace to get there faster while Simon gets me up to speed.
'Biter got one of my guys. I'm gonna need you to take off his leg.'
'Shit', I curse, preparing myself by tying my hair back with a hair tie I always keep wrapped around my wrist. I'd never amputated anything before the outbreak, but I've had to do it a few times now to save people from walker bites. It's the absolute worst. Without anesthesia it's obviously hell for the patient, but besides that it's really fucking difficult to cut through bone. This is going to be exhausting.
The doctor's office is more crowded than usual when I enter. The moaning man on the operating table is the first to draw attention, but there are two more men in the room, keeping the first down on the operating table. He's clearly not taking everything too well.
'I thought I told you to shut him up', Simon barks when we enter. Since everything's going to get real messy, I take a few seconds to put on my doctor's coat before I get closer to the patient.
'He won't shut up', one of the guys holding the injured man down complains.
'Okay, move', I order when I've put on my coat. The guys don't move. Instead, they look uncertainly at Simon. Meanwhile, the patient continues to cry out.
'You can't take my leg! Oh, please, God, you can't take my leg. I don't want to die, I don't want to die!
He's struggling against the grip of the other guys, clearly half out of his mind. When I see his leg, I can see why. His foot is practically mangled and something gnawed his lower leg down to the bone. He must be in excruciating pain.
'Soon as we let go, he's out of here', one of the guys says.
'Just let him go, I can't work like this.'
Besides it's not like he'll get very far with a leg like that.
They still don't listen, and look at Simon for approval. Fortunately, he nods at them.
'Do as she says', he orders.
The men finally let him go and as they predicted, the patient shoots up, ready to bounce. But I'm prepared and before he can get off the table, I smack him right in the face.
I hate to hurt someone who's already suffering, but sometimes a harsh treatment is needed to draw a patient out of their hysteria. Of course, I never would have done this in an actual hospital, but desperate times...
Thank God, the slap seems to work. The man stops in his movement and looks at me with wide eyes. Finally, he's stopped screaming.
'I need you to lie back down', I tell him sternly. 'I know you don't want to lose your leg, but if we don't take it off, you will die. Do you want to die?'
For the first time, his eyes actually seem to focus. And they focus on me.
'No', he says with trembling lips. Sweat and blood are running down his face. Under all that grime it's hard to make out his features, but I think he's pretty young. And he's terrified. Of course he is.
I switch to a softer tone and put a hand on the young man's shoulder.
'Then you have to lie back down. We're going to save your life, but we're going to have to do it together. Okay?'
His eyes are blurry with tears. But he doesn't break down again. Shakily, he nods.
'Good', I say, offering him a smile as I squeeze his shoulder. 'Go on, lie down.'
In a daze, he does what I ask and lies back down. When I look up, I catch the guys that were holding him down looking at me. They seem reluctantly impressed.
'There's a pair of scissors behind you', I tell them. 'Grab them and cut his jeans off to clear the leg.'
While one of them starts to cut away the fabric, I rummage around the room to gather my materials. With a heavy heart, I grab the saw that I'm going to have to use to cut the leg. I look over at the patient and catch the panic in his face. I can't have him going hysterical again, so I decide to talk to him to distract him.
'What's your name?' I ask him while I grab supplies to clean the leg. We have to make sure where the bite marks stop to determine where to cut and it's impossible to see with all this blood.
'W- Walter', he says, trying to hold back his tears now.
'I'm Christina', I tell him. 'How old are you, Walter?'
'I'm 19', he says, trying to stay still while my newly appointed assistant cuts the jeans away from his injured leg.
'Just 19, huh?' I ask, running my fingers carefully over his leg. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to have any wounds above the knee. If I can cut below it, we might be able to create something for him that we can attach to his knee. That way, he might be able to walk again.
'You got any family here?' I ask him. 'Or is it just you?'
'My... my mom', he mutters.
I turn around to look at Simon, who's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
'Can somebody get her? It might be good for him to have someone here.'
He raises his eyebrow and for a second I think he's gonna turn me down, but then he gestures to the guy who's currently not doing anything and he leaves the room to respond to the request.
'Okay, I think we have to cut here', I tell the guy who I ordered to cut the jeans. 'Give me your belt, we need to make a tourniquet.'
He seems mildly confused and not entirely comfortable getting dragged into assisting me, but at least he doesn't look at Simon this time and starts to unbuckle his belt.
I wait impatiently for him to hand it over and let my eyes glide over Walter to check him for any other serious injuries. But then I notice something and my heart stops.
My assistant cut the jeans off all the way to the pocket. But I notice now that the pocket is torn even where it isn't cut. It couldn't be... could it?
Carefully, I move up the fabric a little more. Walter must have caught the look on my face because his temporary calmth quickly recedes.
'What?' he asks, sounding scared? 'What's wrong?'
I fold back the fabric and sigh. I don't want to tell him what I saw. A bitemark at the very top of his leg. Above it, really. Impossible to cut away.
'I'm so sorry, Walter', I tell him softly.
'No', he whimpers. 'No, please, you have to cut it off. Please, I don't want to die!'
'What's wrong?' Simon asks, moving in closer. I look up agitatedly and then move the fabric up again to show him the bite mark.
'I can't save him.'
'Please!' Walter shouts, starting to struggle again. 'I can't die, my mom needs me! Where is she? I have to see my mom, please...'
I put my hand on his shoulder to gently push him back down onto the operating table and try to calm him down.
'I'm so sorry, Walter. Please calm down, your mother will be here soon. You... you can talk to her. Tell her... you know...'
Tell her goodbye. How can you expect a 19-year-old to accept that he's dying? I always hated this part of my job.
'I'll give you something against the pain.'
I let go of him and walk over to the medicines to grab some painkillers. He could still have hours before the infection kills him. The least I can do for him is give him some hours of peace in which he can say his goodbyes. But to my great agitation, Simon takes a step back and blocks my way.
'We're not wasting medicine, doc.'
'Wasting?' I ask indignantly. 'He's in horrible pain.'
'And he'll be dead before the sun rises', he says, pushing me back when I try to get past him. 'Your job is done, honey. If you can't save him, we can handle it from here.'
'He's my patient', I say fervently. 'I'll just give him a couple of painkillers so he can say goodbye to his mother. Let me grab them.'
'I said no.'
I try to push past him again, but he grabs my arm roughly and pulls me back.
'Let go of me!' I yell, trying to pull myself out of his grasp. 'You wake me up in the middle of the night, now let me take care of my patient!'
'He's not your patient', he says with a malicious grin on his face. Then, without warning, he raises his other hand and shoots. 'He's a corpse.'
For a second, I'm stunned. With Walter's cries of pain gone, it's eerily silent in the doctor's office. Slowly, I turn around to look at Walter and though I knew exactly what I'd see, the sight of his lifeless eyes rolled back and blood pooling on the table from the hole in his head still brings bile to my throat.
Simon is the one to break the silence.
'You said you checked him out', he scolds the other guy left in the room. 'How could you miss that?'
'Sorry boss, I-'
'What is wrong with you?'
Simon only seems mildly surprised when I drag my arm out of his hand and turn on him with fury in my eyes.
'Calm down now, missy', he tells me. 'You don't want to do something you're gonna regret.'
'Fuck you!'
He looks a little more suprised when I shove him back hard and he has to find his balance on the counter.
'You killed him!' I yell at him furiously. 'You couldn't let him say goodbye to his mother?'
'He was already dead!' Simon yells back.
I stare at him in disbelief. How can anyone be so heartless? Yes, the boy was beyond saving, but he was scared and in pain and his mother was on her way. She could have been there for him in the end, I could have helped him die peacefully. Instead, Simon put him down like a feral dog.
'You're a fucking asshole', I snarl, coming at him with my fist raised. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I want to do, I just know I want to hurt him. But I don't get to do anything, because he reaches out and grabs both my wrists to hold me at a distance.
'I said you'll regret it', he hisses. Then he pushes me back and shoves me onto the floor. I hit my back against the operating table and pull back disgustedly when the blood that's been pooling on the table spills over the edge and drips onto my shoulder. I'm just about to get up and try again when a heartwrenching cry makes me stop.
'My boy!' a woman wimpers. She rushes over from the doorway and grabs the dead boy's hand to hold it to her chest.
'This can't be true', she sobs disbelievingly. 'Walter, please...'
I can hardly stand to look at the mother mourning her son. So instead, I look at Simon who simply watches the scene impassively. But when I push myself off the ground, he puts his guard up, ready to defend himself if I try to attack him again.
I don't get the chance. Because another man appears in the doorway, looking disgruntled.
'What the hell is going on here?' Negan asks.