Seventeen Seconds

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, every other noise around me seemed to drown out when my world stopped turning. I was in so much danger, but for those seventeen seconds, my feet became rooted to the pavement. I could not move, no I would not move until I made sure what I was seeing in front of me was real. From my peripheral vision, I could see Michonne whip up the infirmary porch steps beside me, followed by Rick. She and I had been clearing a pathway free of walkers all the way back down the street. I could see her body language from the corner of my eye as I stared straight ahead at what seemed to be a sick nightmare. Michonne's torso lunged forward as her arms flailed, and I knew she was shouting for me to get the hell inside the house.

I didn't think it was possible, it was so rare to see and it was happening to me. He was there and then he was gone in the sea of walkers. For those seventeen seconds, I waited for a gap in the herd to clear back up. I prayed on everything I had that I wouldn't be right about what I thought I saw, but then, there he was again. Crawling across the pavement because his legs were still too wobbly to stand amongst the herd that knocked against one another like bumper cars, was little Alexander. I choked on the air in my lungs, hyperventilating. The last little piece of my father I had left, the last little piece I had of Roy had been completely ripped away from me.

It was few and far between that you would see a child that had turned, but a toddler was nearly impossible. I was so heartbroken, so crushed, so angry. How could Shannon have let him turn? Unless she was gone too? A rotted hand gripped my shoulder, my world that had stopped turning for those seventeen seconds finally came crashing back down on me. I could hear the walker's growls again. I could hear Michonne shouting at me. I screamed out, all the anger bubbling up in my chest and shooting out of my lungs like knives. I knocked the walker off of my shoulder, swinging my machete backwards and slicing its face in two. By the time I got inside the infirmary, I was numb.

"This is a gunshot?" Denise asked.

"Handgun. Close range," Michonne answered as Rick lay Carl down on her gurney.

"Please save him," Rick stuttered out, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to keep it together.

I stared down at Carl, my eyes focused on the bullet hole. Dark red blood and tissue sunk into his face, the butt of the bullet smack dab in the middle, sticking out of his flesh like the perfect pupil. Looking down at Carl laying on that gurney was enough to send you into a panic, but the thought of my nephew walking amongst the dead was too much to bear. My eyes glossed over with tears as my limbs continued to go numb. All of this anger with the world, with our luck, had completely overcome me like nothing I've experienced before.

I stepped forward, reaching out my hand and lightly grazing my fingers over the back of Carl's hand. They are too young for this, they are all too young for this world. My eye slowly drifted up towards Rick's, both of our gazes meeting one another at the same time. His expression reflected what I imagined my own to look like. There was so much anger that we did not care anymore. I don't know how to put it into words, but it was as if in that one glance we settled on an agreement. I watched as he pulled his axe out of his belt, the same time I slid my machete from its sheath. In unison he stepped to his right and me to my left and our gaze was broken, both of us walking side by side to the door.

"What-- what are you doing?" Michonne called out to us. The door was open, the sound of the dead hitting my eardrums and only driving my wrath further. "Rick! Scar!" The door slammed closed behind us.

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In a sea of dead, grey, rotted bodies I was seeing red. One after another I let out every bit of rage that surged through my veins. My muscles hurt, my bones ache, and my lungs seized, but I did not care. My machete sliced, chopped, stabbed, punctured the heads of walkers with each step I took. Blood coated every inch of my body. Every time a walker even stepped a foot within my vicinity all that rage bubbled up all over again. My blade sunk through the center of a skull, that was for Ben. I kicked another in the chest before slicing its head clean off, that was for Sophia. I stabbed another up through its jaw, that was for Roy. The following was for T-Dog, and then Dale, and then Andrea, and then Tyreese, and then Noah. The list goes on because the dead goes on. By the time I came to, I realized the entire town was out here with us. They had our backs. We all had each other's back and we were taking back Alexandria tonight.

"Knock 'em away. We can drive 'em down," Rick yelled out as more people ran from their houses and into our circle, ready to fight. "We can beat 'em!"

It didn't matter how much pain I was in or how much my body screamed at me to stop. There was no stopping, not now, not ever. I was at the edge of the group, all of us backing up slowly as we took down the oncoming walkers. We were nearing the end of the road and running out of space before we would hit the grass where the wall was built upon. Trying to give myself more room as I backstepped I veered to my right, straying further from our group. As they huddled on the grass, standing in a cluster to cover one another, I backed down the curve in the road. My arm swung in a figure-eight motion, killing every walker that pressed further toward me until my back collided with the herd behind me. I hadn't realized how far I had secluded myself, it was only a couple of meters, but that still put twenty walkers between myself and the closest person.

I turned on my heel, slicing my machete diagonally through the walker's face before finding a gap in the herd. This was my only option and I was not going down without a fight. I'd kill a walker and find a gap, kill another and step into an open space. It was a repetitive and exhausting motion. By now I was too far from the group to make a run for it back to them. I kicked a walker through the chest before slamming my force down on another when I realized I had nowhere left to go. They were zeroing in on me and without any help, I wouldn't be able to keep up at a fast enough pace. I spun in circles, my machete clipping anything that came too close, cutting off arms and fingertips just to give myself space.

"Red!" a voice called out. My head snapped to my right, knowing it could be no one else when I heard that name. A tanker came screeching down the road, barreling over walkers as it sped up to me. The truck slowed as I saw Daryl lean out the driver's side, the door completely torn for its hinges. He held onto the frame, his arm reaching out for me to grab onto. My left arm outstretched, my hand gripping onto his inner elbow as I was nearly lifted from the ground and my feet lept onto the sidebars. I was yanked into the tanker, sliding onto Daryl's lap as Glenn was lent over and steering the truck.

"What the hell happened?" Were the first words that came out of Daryl's mouth as I slid into the middle seat, Daryl regaining the wheel. Daryl veered hard to the right, heading back towards the pond.

I looked back and forth between the two of them, "You guys are alive," I murmured out. My eyes then trailed over to Daryl, staring at his side profile like I was trying to convince myself he was actually here. He glanced over at me, still trying to keep his focus on driving through the street full of walkers.

"You scared the shit out of me," he side-eyed me, "That's the last time I'm leaving you with Rick," he said. I could tell from his tone of voice that he had been scared, that he wasn't sure what or who he'd be coming home to.

"I'm alive aren't I?" I said, my voice soft. He looked over at me, staring at me for a moment before giving me a half-smile, not wanting to show how happy he actually was.

Daryl pulled the tanker to a halt before backing it up to the edge of the pond. I watched him hop out of the truck before turning around and reaching out his hand for me to take. I grabbed my machete and placed my hand in his.

"You got this?" he asked as he pointed towards the walkers while running to the back of the truck. All I did was laugh before turning and settling back into that repetitive motion. At least down here by the pond fewer walkers seemed to venture. I had the space to run up and take one down while being able to catch my breath before another one was even close by. I could hear Glenn on the other side grunting as he attacked the dead, keeping a distance between them and Daryl as he spilled the tanker's gas into the pond. "Glenn!" Daryl called out, signalling that he was done.

I cocked my head over my shoulder, watching as Daryl climbed up onto the hood of the truck while Glenn rounded it and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Scar, come on!" Glenn banged his hand down the side of the tanker as I took out the last walker closest to me. I could feel Glenn's eyes follow me as I ran around the front of the truck to jump in the passenger's side. By now Daryl was on the roof, steadying himself for when Glenn drove it further from the shoreline.

"Did you find Maggie?" I instantly asked as I slammed the one working door shut.

"Yeah, she's safe," he answered, putting the tanker into drive.

"Is Nicholas dead?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered, sighing. He drove the tanker forward a couple of meters.

"You okay?" I questioned, looking over at him. I don't know how on earth he got back here or what he went through to get back, but knowing Glenn it's never easy, no matter how much he may make it look as if it is.

"If we get through tonight, I will be," he said, putting the tanker in park. "Are you?"

The image of Alexander flashed in front of me, causing my body to quiver. "No," I answered, "but I can deal with that after tonight."

I watched through the side mirror as the pound irrupted in flames. Daryl fired an RPG launcher into the fuel-infested water, creating an explosion before the flame rippled across the pond. I sat there for a moment, my eyes transfixed by the orange glow that reflected through the mirror. I popped open the door, stepping down on the sidebar before climbing up to the roof using the smashed-in window. I got to my feet, staring up at Daryl as he stood with the RPG in hand while watching the pond ignite. I stepped beside him, overlooking the town from up above. Almost immediately the walkers began to turn away from our group, drawn by the light. They staggered into the flames in groups, their entire bodies catching on fire as they melted away and submerged into the water.

I didn't know how to feel at this moment. What we were doing tonight, taking back Alexandria tonight from the dead, was something for the history books if that had still existed. But, I couldn't feel anything but numb. I know what I should be feeling, I should feel the adrenaline, I should feel the righteousness, I should be feeling alive because we were defying all odds. I was happy that Daryl was here and alive, I knew I was more than happy, but I couldn't feel it because I was numb. Finding Alexander was too much for me to bear. I still had Linc, but it was just another gutwrenching reminder that it is only a matter of time. Ben said that I would win, that I was built for this world. What if I didn't want to win? If the cost of winning meant losing everybody else that I love.

"I don't want to die, but I don't know how to keep on living."