𝑵𝑬𝑼𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑪
𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘌𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛
☼
It was a guy.
A kid, maybe, who she had ran into down the alley. As soon as her rifle was aimed at his face, his hands were thrust into the air, his eyes widening at the clear threat that she indicated. Delaney held her gun steady, eyes scanning him from top to bottom, unsure, "The fuck' you doin' out here?"
He swallowed thickly, hands trembling, mouth sealed shut. He didn't move but he also didn't make a move to answer her question, even as she pointed the weapon at him more forcefully. Her eyes darted behind him, but there was no sign of companions, "Answer me." She snapped and he grit his teeth.
"I need weapons." His eyes lingered on her gun, "I was gonna take out those rotter's...but you beat me to it."
"I won this fair 'n square kid." Delaney groused, nailing him with a harsh glare. "Gonna have to find 'em elsewhere, aint ya." He kept his hands up in the air, even as his expression wilted into something a little more desperate. He looked behind her, and Delaney stupidly looked over her shoulder, having enough forethought to step to the side when the boy barreled toward her. He fumbled on a busted leg, wincing when she snagged him by the collar of his jacket, pressing the cold barrel of her handgun to his temple, "I aint no fool." She hissed by his hear.
"Please." He strained, "I need those weapons."
"Boy - " She sighed, brows creasing, "I aint givin' you my guns." She gave him a shove, directing him further in front of her, "Turn 'round." He did, hands back up in the air with a pitifully desperate look back on his face, "You alone?" He bobbed his head up and down, nervous, "What'cha need the guns for, the dead?"
He didn't nod this time, fidgeting on the spot. "There's bad people out there."
Delaney's head lolled to the side, "Did you really just say, bad people?" She saw how this kid scowled, and figured he must have been in his mid teens, late teens even. Seventeen or eighteen at most. He was quite tall, very skinny, and not at all enjoying her bantering. She snorted in humor, her eyes locked on him but also making sure to check behind him on the street for any of the dead. She wasn't naïve enough to think that they were safe in the alley.
"I'm being serious." He roughed out, grumbling.
"Oh, Well, I am sorry, do continue." Delaney mocked, gesturing with the gun in her hand for him to keep speaking, not caring much. He watched her cautiously for a while, but he instead stepped closer despite the gun trained on him and offered her a hand.
"I'm Noah." There was a smile, a small one but it was visible. Well, that was something. She tilted her head in genuine curiosity, wondering what on earth was wrong with this kid. Shaking hands - she hadn't done that since before the dead had risen. Yet there was something palpably innocent about it and so Delaney lent closer and took his hand into her own. It was warm and soft, like it hadn't seen a day of hard labor in it's life. He was clean too, she noticed. His clothes looked barely worn, cleaner than her. She wondered if he had been holed up somewhere in the city, somewhere in a building with necessities.
"Delaney."
She heaved a sigh and lowered her gun, clearing her throat moments later. He'd have to go back to where he came from, simple as that. "Look I got somewhere ta be, kid." She told him, ignoring how his eyes flashed down to her handgun as she passed him, as if he was thinking of trying a second time for it. When his hand clasped around her arm, halting her retreat she almost hit him - kid or not. She drew her gun on him, barrel close to his face and hissed, "Don't touch me - "
Noah bobbed his head, hands thrusting upward, "Sorry, Sorry, I - They'll get you if you go out there..." His voice hitched, breath sharp, and she noted that he was actually scared.
"I know how to kill the dead, boy."
"No!" He stressed, squaring his jaw, "No, the living. There's people out there, I told you - they're bad news." He motioned to the street and Delaney didn't look this time. Instead she situated herself where she could see down the alley and into the street, eyes glued to the boy. She rose her brow and questioned who, to which Noah seemed at a loss for words. She wondered if he was talking about those people they'd been following, with the white painted cross. Noah didn't elaborate and Delaney scoffed.
"Help me." Noah pleaded next, desperation back in his tone.
"What?" She heaved a sigh, tired. She just wanted to get out of the damn city, what were her chances she'd run into a kid. "Help ya do what..." She then stressed, and Noah seemed to swallow thickly.
"They took my friend. I have to get her out of there. I promised."
Delaney lowered her gun again, keeping her grip tight, "Those people, the ones who drive about - white cross - " Noah nodded his head frantically, his eyes widening in surprise that she knew who he was talking about. "They got your friend? What's 'er name?" She narrowed her eyes and Noah shifted uncomfortably beneath the unfriendly gaze. "Hurry, I don't got all day."
"Beth. Her name is Beth."
Delaney immediately thought of Daryl. God, was this his friend, it was too much of a coincidence otherwise, right? She sighed louder, harder and pressed her her knuckles to the top of her brow, fucking exhausted. "Beth?"
"Yes, Beth." Noah repeated, "She needs help, right now and I need a gun." He pointed to the rifle over her chest and Delaney scoffed at him, sending another warning look. She pressed her knuckles to her head a little harder before nodding her head.
"Fine, Fine, I think we're lookin' for the same girl." She announced, figuring this was most likely the same Beth as Daryl had been thinking of. After all they were apparently hostage to the same people. Noah looked at her dumbly as she said this and Delaney scowled, waving her hand around in front of his face, "Where is she?" She watched Noah glance to the street.
"Grady Memorial Hospital." He grit, eyes dancing back to her as she shifted on the spot. Strange, to be holed up in a hospital of all things, yet, she supposed a decent place to be. At least there would have been all the things one might need in a scary situation - but it also sounded like a terrible place to be if things went wrong. A hospital. She shook her head in disbelief, "They're not nice people...They - they make you stay."
Delaney rose her brow, "Make ya?"
"They treat your wounds, help you, then tell you, you gotta repay them." Noah shuffled on the spot, his hand moving to his leg, which drew her eyes down. "They wouldn't let my dad in." Delaney pointed to his leg with her gun and rose a brow in question, "I got hurt, they helped me, but made me stay on as a ward...to repay them."
"Assholes." She mumbled, frowning at the thought. "Beth, is she hurt?"
"Broken wrist, but she's okay." Noah reassured, "How do you know her?"
Delaney shook her head, "I don't. Ma brother is a friend of hers. I know her sister, Maggie." Noah's eyes brightened in recognition of the name, his head bobbing up and down. Half of her knew she had to go back and find Daryl, to tell him that this kid knew where Beth was, but another part of her was still fuming at him. She looked Noah over and thought, she could send him in her stead.
"We're going to need more people." Noah motioned between them, thoughtful too. "You know where her sister is - Maggie?" His eyes were darting around, searching her face and she scowled at the intrusive feeling of it. She did not like feeling torn. On one hand she knew she had to get Maggie, get Daryl, but on the other she wanted to get as far from that group of people as possible. She heaved another sigh,
"Yeah, I do. I aint goin' back to 'em." she admitted, "I can point ya to where ma brother is...he'll help ya." she motioned down the street, but Noah hurriedly declined, pointing at her instead,
"No, no you need to help me now."
"Noah." Delaney seethed as he reached for her handgun. She jerked it away from his grasp and leveled it with his eyes, scowling dangerously, "Back off. Ya aint getting ma gun, so put ya fuckin' hands down." He stepped back and lowered his hands, hanging his head. "Go find Daryl. He'll help ya get Beth - this - this aint ma problem."
"Please!" He stressed, but she shook her head, "I don't know where your brother is..."
"He's a couple blocks that 'a way. With a short haired chick - I'd watch out fer the crossbow." She heard Noah squeak at the mention of a crossbow, but she wasn't listening any more. Instead Delaney was stabbing a rotter through the head with her knife, gritting her teeth. She glanced down the road and spotted that it was still relatively clean. She took off before Noah could say another word, shaking the guilt away. This wasn't her problem. It wasn't ever her problem. Beth was Daryl's problem - and he had made it clear that he didn't want nor need her help.
Her main priority now, was getting out of Atlanta alive.
She was about a building down when she heard Noah shout her name, and the alarming fear in it made her jerk back. She turned on the spot and saw a rotter ambling into the alley. Cursing beneath her breath, Delaney began sprinting back, darting down the alley just in time to grab the rotter before it grabbed the kid. She stabbed it in the back of the neck and tossed it to the side, huffing in irritation, "don't you have nothin'?" she looked him up and down as he stared at her wide eyed, shaking.
"Not even a knife?" Noah shook his head, glancing to the dead corpse.
"Fuck. Fine." She checked the clip on the handgun, finding it was more or less unused. She turned it round and held the barrel, offering it to him. As his hand reached for it she distanced it and said, "If ya even think 'bout shootin' me, I'll kill ya." Her threat was low and quiet, her eyes dangerously locked on his. Noah swallowed, nodding his head in response. "I swear it, kid."
"I k-know, I won't I - " He reached for the gun again, "You didn't shoot me."
His response made her pause, her eyes lingering on him. He offered her a lopsided smile, and she released the gun into his hold. He thanked her with a whisper, and dropped the weapon down to his side, "You'll take me to find Daryl?" He asked, searching. She huffed through her nose and shook her head,
"No. You find 'im."
"I don't know him." Noah fired back, following her as she walked, "Can't you just take me? Better yet, can't you just help me yourself?"
Delaney grit her teeth and exited the alley again, powering her way tiredly down the stretch of street. Noah, obviously followed. With her knife in her hand again, Delaney kept them close to the building, hating how this felt so familiar to having Scout behind her. It made her swallow against the lump in her throat, nervous. Noah kept his mouth shut as he followed her, silent, pestering though. She turned one of the corners and immediately backtracked as she ran into a large group of rotter's. "Move, move," She shoved Noah in the chest, before grabbing a handful of his t-shirt to tug him along.
He hobbled quickly, and Delaney kept shoving him to make him move faster as the two escaped the large herd of dead, panic rising in them both. "Noah, fuckin' move." She jerked him forward again, arching her arm side ways to kill an approaching rotter. She fucking hated Atlanta. Her heart felt like it was in her throat and all she could hear was it thumping in her ears, as she dragged this boy on his bummed leg through the stray rotter's.
The ache of her bruises burned as she ran, her breath short, everything aching like a bitch. Her choice was slim though and her arms began to ache having to tug Noah along. "We need to find somewhere to hide!" He whimpered, trembling beneath her grasp. "Please, off the streets, they'll see us!"
"Who, Grady?" Delaney heaved, pushing him in the direction of the nearest door.
"Yes, they patrol - " Noah ran into the door, trying it. He couldn't get the handle open and Delaney's eyes darted down the street to where the walkers were still round the corner, barely there. The door didn't budge, even as Delaney rammed her side into it, jarring her shoulder with a wince. Noah was panting, scared, eyes wide and she hated it, hated how she felt responsible for this.
"Over the road, go," Delaney pushed him to go and Noah started to run. She stopped in the middle of the street and began to kill the dead that were close, the ones who were more likely to follow and alert the others. She slid her knife into the temple of one, and then into another, kicking it back with a wince. Her eyes darted over to where Noah was shoving his way into the building, stumbling inside with a yelp. He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and she jammed her knife into another face, wincing for the boy.
She had no idea what was wrong with his leg, but it most certainly caused discomfort and landing on it like that had to hurt like a bitch.
When she'd cleared the path to the building, Delaney darted across the road and to the door where Noah was clambering to his feet, her arms hooking beneath his to help haul him up. As soon as he was on his feet, the door was closed behind them and the two were staring at one another, panting, breathless. Delaney's hand pressed into the wall near by, her hand moving to rest over her burning ribs. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and sighed.
"You okay?" Noah hobbled closer, his hands hovered almost nervously and Delaney shifted at the last minute to avoid the contact.
"Fine," She tightened her grip on her knife, shooting him a look, "Behind me - do not fire that gun." She motioned to the handgun, walking further into the building with her knife raised in anticipation. Noah did as she asked, following behind her as she checked out the office. With a couple of bangs of her knife on the nearest wall, the two stood waiting for any surprises. When none came, she exhaled a sigh. "So this Hospital..." She sat herself down onto one of the swivel chairs as Noah limped closer, "How's it work?"
Whilst she didn't want to get involved, Delaney was a little curious. A hospital still, somewhat, running after all this time, was something. She eyed the boy up and down as he lent back into one of the desks, shoulders slumping. "It's been going since the beginning - I was there a year at least." He looked down to his hands, turning the handgun over in his grasp, looking at it. "It was me and my dad before that..."
"What happened to 'im?"
"We were both in a pretty bad way." He motioned down to his bummed leg, "They took me, left him. It was because he was bigger, stronger, more of a fight." His eyes flashed up to look at her and she frowned, listening tentatively, bringing one of her legs up onto the chair to get more comfortable. "They take you in, help you and tell you, you owe them. They'll make you work, helping out with patients, food, laundry, anything - because they need it." He shifted back onto his feet, hobbling over to a chair of his own to sit down and rest his aching calf. "They think they can do it to the weak because they won't fight back."
"Easier than to help people who can prove to be a problem." Delaney admitted, eyeing the kid. "It aint right, but it makes sense."
"They got people. Guns. The place is run by Dawn - barely. She's supposed to be in charge of a bunch of officers..." He shrugged a shoulder, "She can barely keep them under control - and she is losing her shit."
"And Beth?" Delaney pressed, "Is she safe there for the time bein'?"
Noah nervously looked down at the gun once more, smoothing his fingers over the grip. Then he shook his head, "No one's safe there...it's why we gotta get her out. We need your people." Delaney shook her head, leaning against her knee as she watched his features twist into a confused frown.
"They aint my people." She admitted, "I barely know 'em."
"Is that why you're out here?" Noah wondered, looking her up and down, "Alone, not with your brother?" She snorted then, leaning forward to unhook her rifle so that it wasn't so uncomfortable. She set it beside her and turned her chair around one turn, sighing. She wasn't going to open up to this kid, her questions had made sense. If she was going to go back to Daryl, then she'd need to have all the information to tell him. Not to mention she was still trying to gauge this kid in front of her.
So far he seemed pretty harmless - to her at least. He had his gun and he hadn't dared to raise it once against her, though that didn't necessarily mean that she trusted him.
"If ya want to convince Beth's people, ya need my brother not me." Was her final comment, as she rose to her feet. She took her gun and began to do a sweep of the offices, looking for food, water, anything. Noah followed quietly, having learnt probably that she did not like questions - or small talk. Her abrasive nature was obvious, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her mad.
Delaney was searching the draws, looking for hidden treasures when she heard Noah chuckle. His laugh caught her by surprise and she lifted her head to look his direction, finding him pointing at her ass, "Twizzlers?" Having forgotten all about them, Delaney reached back and snatched the half empty packet out of her pocket, breaking out into a smile.
"Want one?" She jiggled the packet in his direction and Noah limped over, reaching out to take out one of the candies. She huffed a noise, grabbing one for herself, before shoving the packet back into her pocket, continuing her search.
"Man, I haven't had one of these in ages." Noah happily commented as he chewed on the end, looking in the draws like she'd been doing. Delaney didn't answer but she did find herself fighting the small smile. Her search led her into the kitchen, where she began to look through the cupboards, finding very little but a packet of stale biscuits and a tin of tomato soup.
"Hungry?" Delaney called out to the kid, curious. Noah joined her shortly after, peering curiously down at her meager find, nose scrunching slightly. He took the biscuit she held out to him, eyeing it for a second before he stuffed it into his mouth. Delaney did similar, "It's not as good as the Twizzler..." She commented off hand, slinking back out of the kitchen to approach the door. She kept herself hidden but peered out into the street, trying to see if she could see how bad the rotter's had gotten.
The herd had passed through, but it wasn't safe enough to go running out into the street so, she turned to Noah and gestured with her hand toward the back of the building, "There's gotta be an exit out back." She suggested, "We'll escape there, take the back alley and come back round." As she voiced this Noah nodded his head in agreement.
"Then you take me to your brother."
She huffed, sending him an impatient look. Locating the back door, Delaney lifted her knife and turned her attention to it, ignoring Noah's heavy sigh. Making sure her rifle was secure, Delaney turned the door knob, relieved it was unlocked and nudged it open. The alley had only a couple rotter's, and she took them both out in quick succession. The ache in her chest only bloomed hasher with all of her movement, energy waining, stomach rumbling.
She snuck close to the wall and gestured for Noah to follow, sighing subtly when she heard him mutter, "I mean, he's your brother right?" He shifted next to her and she ignored him, continuing down the alley, "Shouldn't you want to be with him? Seems like you're running."
"Would ya shut up." Delaney hissed in response, shooting him daggers. "It's ma business, not yours." She clenched her fist tighter around her knife and turned her back to him, frustrated. He was right of course - she had to go back to Daryl. Of course she did, but that didn't mean that a part of her, just, didn't want to. Was this pathetic? Was it childish - what was wrong with her.
"Can't you just take me to him - we can all do this - " Delaney grit her teeth and started to walk faster, making her way down the alley in the direction of the street. She'd do just about anything to void Noah's incessant chatter now. She liked him - she thought she did at least, but damn. She didn't want to hear it. Either way, he was getting to Daryl, if she helped lead him there or not. That was that.
In her haste to get away from the probing words, Delaney walked right out into the street with her knife held up in anticipation, however a few steps in and she was met with something not even a knife would have handled.
A car.
The front of the car smashed right into the side of her body and Delaney's body went tumbling across the concrete, tires squealing loudly as the brakes were smashed on. She hit the concrete, unconscious, whilst Noah further back darted back down the alley, behind some bins, horrified. His eyes were wide, as he kept himself hidden, listening to the familiar sound of Amanda Shepherd's voice as she spoke into her radio, reporting what had just happened.
There was a second, a split second as she had hit the ground that she had still been conscious. When her head had landed, her eyes had vaguely recognized the sight of a police car.
- - - -
"Fractured wrist...fractured ribs...internal....concussion..." The words were fragmented, spoken in the same low concerned voice that belonged to a man Delaney could not place. His voice was not familiar. She was in and out of consciousness, and the words continued to filter through her hazy mind, "let me help her..."
Delaney roused some time later to the steady beeping of a heart monitor. It was so surreal, the normalcy of it, of hearing the beep, beep, of her heart as it worked. She had felt like she'd died, groggy as her eyes rolled beneath her heavy lids. The beeping did not stop though, and eventually she opened her eyes to look - to just look at it. The lights in the room were turned on and blinding in their brightness, harshly shining off of the pristine white walls of her hospital room.
She was in a hospital - and there was no guesses as to where she was.
Grady Memorial Hospital.
She was laying flat on one of the hospital beds, horribly aware of the pain that was riddling her entire body. Something heavy restricted her right hand, which trembled as she tried to move it along the soft, clean sheets covering her. When she managed to gather the strength to lift it, she noted it was covered in a plain white plaster cast - must 'a broken it.
She winced, lowering her arm when the movement began to strain her chest, her ribs crying out in pain.
God, it smelt too clean in there. The chemicals used to mop and clean were burning her nose as she inhaled, small but sharp breaths. Anything more and her ribs hurt like a bitch. Admittedly the situation was as scary as it was surreal and Delaney found that her heart monitor began to beep faster as she twisted to look at it. Wincing, she noticed the IV drip and the needle that had been stuck down to the inside of her elbow.
She grit her teeth moaning softly.
Her attention darted to the door when the handle was pushed down, and the thing swung open. It revealed a middle-aged man, who stopped as soon as she was spotted awake. He was stood in a white lab coat with a clipboard held in his hands - a Doctor. She stared at him unabashed, all hostility melting away in favor of disbelief. He gathered himself faster and walked into the room with a smile on his features, "Hi, I'm Dr. Steven Edwards."
Delaney's eyes did not leave him and he nodded his head, "You're okay. You're healing." Came his reassurance as he held the clipboard to his chest with a click, "You took quite a knock out there...How are you feeling?"
Dizzy. She felt sick and dizzy, suffering from some sort of concussion she was sure. She held her tongue, and he nodded once more.
"You're safe now. You're being looked after." He stepped closer until he was level with the end of the bed and Delaney found herself slumping a little into the sheets and the pillow, exhausted, dark dots dancing in her vision.
"Do you know your name?"
That time Delaney manage to barely mumble her name to him before her eyes began to flutter shut, "D-Delaney." She heard the soothing rumble of a hummed response, before he carefully reminded her that she was safe and that she could sleep to regain some more strength.
"I will check in on you later, Delaney." He promised after milling around in her room and doing visual checks on her. Her energy waned and she slumped down further, eyes still fluttering between open and closed, fighting against the wave of exhaustion as it hit her. She could feel his warm hands as he checked on her IV line, and as much as she wanted to tug herself away from his strange grasp, she couldn't.
"Where am I?" she questioned, voice small.
"You're at Grady Memorial Hospital."