Aim for the Brain

It had been exactly 62 days since Francis had last seen her doctor. It had been at the obstetrics clinic; with electricity, sterile equipment, and nurses. But those sixty-two days had gone by in a flash, and now the child she never wanted was forcing its way into her life.

She could try to focus on the way her ragged breathing was hitting the hospital walls and finding its way back to her ears. It was so silent – there were no doctors – no nurses. She was alone, waiting for her baby girl to fall to her feet. She had hoped that coming to a hospital might lead her to survivors, ones who were perhaps trained in the delivery of an infant.

She held her small round bell in her arms while she cried through another contraction. She could only pray that she was the only one who could hear her pain. Even though help would be nice, Walkers would be worse.

She was now clutching tope colored hallway walls while trying to find a suitable room to lie down in. Her reaction was slow to the man running out of the pharmacy, but she managed to callout for help. She knew he saw her, and heard her… but he still ran away from her.

“Please I need help! I’m not infected!” she said. Her agonizing pain could be heard in her voice.

“Look lady, there’s walkers in the basement, I ain’t got time to stick around.”

“Please!” she shouted gripping his arm.

“You needa shut yer’ mouth or you’ll kill us both god damnit!”

“Please, I don’t know what to do. I can’t do this by myself!”

Merle took one look at her swollen belly and shook his head before he tried to get away from her again, although now she had a tight grip on his arm.

“Look I only got one hand!”

“Please… please!” she begged, her knees fell to the floor while she felt another contraction flood her body, “My baby, she’s coming! Please help me!” Behind her Walkers seemed to be gravitating to the sound of their conversation. Merle looked at her again, fear immediately seemed to overtake him. He wasn’t scared of the walker behind her, more of the thought of pulling that thing out of her.

He took one more look at her before running down the hallway and turning the corner. Merle was in no position to help her and he didn’t owe her shit. Merle took the antibiotics he’d taken and began to head down the stairs. His feet echoed from top to bottom, he was moving fast, too fast.

He tripped.

He fell to the bottom of the flight of stairs he had been on. He had made it down three, but now he was lying face down, his pills were gone, some spilt on the floor, the rest tumbling down the stair way.

Merle’s mind flashed him back to the rooftop he had barely left with his life. He had come to begging God for things that day, and living was one of them. Merle hit himself in the head with his left hand while becoming more and more angry for thinking about it. He couldn’t help but feel guilty leaving that woman like that. He felt like this was God saying: “You owe me.”

He pushed himself to his feet and reached down to pick up one of the pain relievers he’s grabbed and swallowed it before heading back up the three flights of stairs. He found that she had tried to follow him down the hallway, and was unsure of where he’d gone to until he came back out the entrance to the stairs. She was crying, and very scared. Merle could see that, he couldn’t help but think of his baby brother who had brought home a wounded Raccoon one night; it had been hit by a car. Merle promptly told Daryl to kill it, throw it out – but when Daryl had seen that the critter was pregnant; he couldn’t seem to do it.

He pulled her to him, and carried both of them down the rest of the hall into a room that seemed fairly put together. The window let in natural light and the bed looked like it hadn’t been used.

“What the hell you doin’ here anyways?” he asked her, irritated, like he had a whole day planned and she just ruined it.

“What’s it look like?” she asked.

“Did ya’ think you were gonna find a doctor?” he asked, while laughing.

“No… I figured it was the best place to start! I went into labor, panicked, and came here. I taught there’d be survivors… someone.”

“Well next time wish for someone with two hands.” He said. She could see the way his eyes widened each time they looked at her stomach. Obviously just as nervous as her.

“Please you have to help me…” she begged again.

“Look I ain’t no fuckin’ doctor, I didn’t even finished high school. I just brought you here because you were gonna get us both eaten screamin’ like that throughout the god damn place!”

“I just – I just can’t do it on my own, I’m not asking you to be the god damned father!” She said beginning to breath heavy. “I just wouldn’t mind a few painkillers and maybe someone to give me an update every now and – AHHH!” she began to yell through another contraction. She grabbed his arm and he started screaming too at the pain she was causing him. “You really do have a hand off!” she exclaimed looking at the cauterized stump at the end of his arm. “Good thing you only need one to get a ‘hand on things’ right?” she said. Merle gave her a look that asked her to please never try and tell a joke like that again.

“How can you tell extremely bad jokes at a time like this?!” he asked her.

“Sorry… the pain is just… blinding really.” She said as she started to scream again. When she let go of him he pulled away before she could grab at him again, he took the time to wrap his stump in sterile gauze before returning to her with a syringe filled with liquid.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have painkillers during labor.” He said.

“I don’t fucking care!” she screamed at him before he injected it into her arm. Instantly she felt better. “Thank you.” She said.

“Aren’t you worried the kids going to come out stupid?” he asked her.

“I don’t entirely believe it’s happening.” She said,

He have her an odd look up and down, and asked: “How?!”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, she’s was never supposed to be mine.” she told him.

Merle tried to slip away once, and got caught… he ended up staying put until she told him it was time. And after telling her several times that he wasn’t “stickin’ my head down there!” he eventually did. But after realizing this was a problematic childbirth – he seemed to sober up about the whole situation, and tried to talk her through it. He thought of several movies he’s seen where this type of thing happened – but nothing he thought he knew calmed his nerves.
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Merle had no fucking idea why he stuck around long enough for her to wake up. He did not want to be here, and he most certainly wanted to ’…get the fuck out.’ He knew he couldn’t leave anyone like this though… she was laying in her own blood – and she had passed out before Merle had a chance to tell her what was wrong.

The small baby girl hadn’t been able to get enough air with the cord so tightly wrapped around her neck, and died shortly thereafter. Merle had contemplated leaving, and slipping out before Francis woke up. But he couldn’t help but remember how it felt to keep waking up on that roof with no one around. So he sat, and waited.
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When Francis finally came around, she found a window streaming with light. The sun was warming to her feet, yet she felt immensely uncomfortable lying there after what she had been through.

She looked shocked when Merle was standing in the doorway.

“Thought you’d be gone by now.” She said.

“I couldn’t leave without-“ he paused, “Your girl… she didn’t make it. I couldn’t just slip away with you thinking I’d stole yer’ baby.”

Francis took in the information quickly. Slightly harbored by her real emotions, and the ones she’d felt months ago. Part of her had never wanted this baby, but that didn’t mean she never loved it. The smallest carbon copy of her hadn’t made it in the world… this world.

She wiped away the tears and nodded her head before getting up.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Merle.” He said. “Whoa, whoa! You can’t get around, not with how weak ya’ are.”

“We can’t stay here, like you said there are walkers in the basement. Walkers everywhere.” She said, her hands shaking, her legs swaying. She clutched to the counter, trying to stabilize her balance.

“Yeah but it’s daylight now, and they won’t get past the door I blocked off.” Merle said. “Juss’ lemme… see her.” Francis said. Merle waited for a moment before nodding his head and helping her out.
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After some help from Merle she was able to say goodbye to her baby girl and give her a proper burial on the grounds of the hospital. She made sure it was somewhere far from the bags filled with dead, and near a small patch of wild Daisies.

She walked away with him, both of them instinctively were already looking for supplies, and for some reason they headed the same direction.

She figured the pharmacy was a good place to start, and Merle wanted to still get what he’d come for.

“You can leave if you want, you… didn’t need to help me this much, but I appreciate it.” She told him.

“I… waited… I guess cause –“ he held up his tightly wrapped hand. It had a fresh bandage on it, and Francis couldn’t help but notice how odd his arm looked without a right hand. “I woulda’ liked fer someone to help me.”

“Thanks.” She said turning away from the grave.

“But don’t ask me to do that again, because I ain’t fuckin’ gonna.”

“Why? Ya gonna stick around with me till I get pregnant again?” she asked.

“I’ll get you pregnant.” He told her smiling.

“No… don’t even, after what just happened to me, I’ll be lucky if I don’t swear off men forever.” She laughed.

“Lesbian. Cool, I can stick around an get you both pregnant.”

“That’s incredibly inappropriate.” She said.

“Look all I’m saying is that I haven’t gotten a good fuck in quite some time.”

“Well keep wantin’ it ain’t gonna happen.” She told him crossing her arms.

“Alright alright! Christ Jus’ trying to get ya’ ta’ laugh. With yer bad jokes you ain’t done that for a while.”

Francis did give him a smile before she said: “Name’s Francis, or Frankie. Whichever.”

“Francis? What the fuck kinda name is that?” He asked.

“What kinda redneck name is Merle?” she asked.

“Don’t make fun of my name, Dixons’ll kick your ass.” He said.

She held up her hands in her immediate defense, “I’m named after my father.”

“Now don’t toy with me, I know yer a girl.”

“Only child.” She said, opening the pharmacy door. "Family tradition, when I wasn't a boy what were they supposed to do?"

"Name ya something other than that god awful crap." he said.

"You are a complete asshole, you know that right?" she asked handing him a bottle of painkillers.

"Ain't a Dixon if yer not." Merle said.

After a while of back and forth banter. Frankie had filled a new messenger bag with antibiotics, painkillers, and other various medical supplies. She had teased Merle about his addiction to Vicodin and that he could find healthier habits in times like these. But he just grumbled, and showed her his bandaged stump.

"Makes it hard to kill damn walkers." he told her.