Entombed

“Shannon...”

My eyes opened from a dizzy, dark state that seemed to have lasted an eternity. The voice that had been calling my name was distorted and caused me to wonder if I was stuck in some strange dream. There were three silhouettes standing above me, surrounded by a blurry environment. The voice called my name again.

“Shannon... Wake up.”

My vision cleared and averted to Rick’s face. He was closest to me and pushing my messy, alcohol-soaked hair out of my face. “Are you okay?” he asked. The putrid smell of the broken bottle’s contents forced my nose to wrinkle, but it was the least of my concerns when I began to feel a stinging sensation somewhere on my scalp.

I cursed while I reached for the side of my head. Warm blood stuck to my fingertips as I brought my hand away from my hair.

Rick wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me to my feet. I swayed back and forth for a moment, holding my arm out to balance myself. Rick held my hand and asked me of I was okay again.

“Yeah,” I said, looking over my shoulder. The mirror behind the bar was shattered and covered with blood. I stumbled over to the bar and peeked over the edge. Dave was laying there, a bullet through his chest and another through his brain. I was tempted to spit on his corpse, but I maintained my anger.

“Did you know him?” Glenn asked. “He kept looking at you.”

I turned to face the three men in the room and nodded. “I ran into him while doing a supplies run once and he almost killed me for what I found... I don’t think he remembered who I was.”

“That’s probably because he’s attacked so many people before,” Rick added. “Him and his friend are the type.”

The sound of conversation between a few men blew in from outside of the bar’s front doors. “We’re looking for Dave and Tony and no one checks the bar?” one of them complained.

We all rushed to the front doors, taking cover at either side. “Dave! Tony!” One of the men began to push the door open and then Glenn jumped in front of it, slamming it shut. “What...?” the first man said.

“It’s locked,” the younger one commented. “Let’s go.”

“No, someone’s in there. Something pushed the door.” He spoke again when a brief silence passed. “Hey, is someone in there? We don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for our friends... If something happened, tell us.”

“They drew on us,” Rick said. He looked at me, blatantly worried about what he had just said.

“Dave and Tony in there? Are they alive?”

Rick sighed. “No.”

The men outside began to panic and the loading of guns could be heard. “They killed them! They killed Dave and Tony!”

“Your friends drew on us!” Rick shouted. “They gave us no choice! I’m sure we’ve all lost enough people. Wrong place, wrong--”

I jolted when the bullets began shattering the glass. “Go!” Rick shouted to Glenn and Hershel. He fired a shot through the broken window. “Go with them, Shannon. I can handle this.”

“I’m not leaving you!” I said as another shot fired through the door. I fired my pistol through the same window pane, just barely dodging a shot that shattered glass shards into my face.

“You have to go!”

I grabbed Rick’s arm and stared him in the eye. “I’m not leaving you,” I repeated.

He nodded and turned back to the door. “Listen, you guys,” he called to the men outside. “Just back off and no one else will get hurt.”

Footsteps pattered away from the bar, fading within a few seconds. “They’re gone,” I said. “They left.”

Several gunshots echoed into the room. “Glenn?” I called. No response.

Rick grabbed my hand and rushed us over to the back door where Hershel and Glenn were. Hershel was standing at the door, staring a man laying in the grass, groaning from a bullet in his stomach.

“What happened? Where’s Glenn?” Rick asked.

Hershel looked behind him, at a dumpster. “That man fired at Glenn. I think he might be hurt. He’s behind the dumpster.”

My lips parted as I stared at Glenn’s legs sticking out from behind the clutter in the alleyway. “Glenn!” I shouted, running towards him.

He sat there, clutching his shotgun, with a blank look on his face. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, gulping. “I’m fine.”

A bullet ricocheted off the dumpster, flying by my head. I jumped into the next open space beside Glenn. My heart jumped in my chest as I reloaded my pistol. “Shannon?” Rick called.

“I’m okay!”

The revving engine of a truck passed through the main street in front of the bar. “Come on! There’s roamers everywhere!” the driver shouted to the sniper on top of one of the roofs.

“Hold on!” It was the younger one in the group who had shot at me.

“Just jump!”

A few seconds passed before a thud and an agonizing scream rang in our ears. “Help!” the younger one was screaming. “Help me!”

“I have to go, I’m sorry!” The truck sped off and disappeared.

The rest of us peeked at the other end of the street to see the shooter laying on a dumpster with the metal spike of a gate piercing through his calf. He shrieked in pain as he looked down at the injury.

“We have to help him,” Rick said, running across the street.

“Rick, wait!” Hershel called. We all followed after him and grew weary at the stench of fresh blood as we neared the injured young man.

“Please help me,” he begged Rick. “Please, please... I don’t want to die!”

“Can we help him?” Rick asked Hershel.

Hershel took a closer look at the guy’s leg and shook his head. “We can’t move him with an injury like that.”

Rick pulled a knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. “Will this cut through the bone?”

“No!” the guy screamed. “Please don’t cut my leg off, please!”

I pointed my gun in his face and said, “Shut the hell up! You’re drawing the walkers’ attention.”

He apologized as tears streamed down his face. He continued to beg Rick not to cut his leg off as they discussed how to remove his leg. Glenn retrieved a stick for Hershel to twist the tourniquet around the guy’s injury.

“Hurry up!” Glenn screamed, firing a few shots at the oncoming herd of walkers. “They’re getting closer!”

Hershel held the knife below the guy’s knee, hesitating to puncture the flesh. The stranger continued to plea for his leg to be spared. “I don’t want to lose my leg!” he cried. “Please!”

Rick and I shot down a few close-by walkers and urged Hershel to hurry. A second later, Rick grew impatient and forced the guy’s leg off of the gate.

The stranger screamed at the top of his lungs.

--

We stopped at a safe place on the road to tend to Randall’s injury. He eventually passed out from the pain, due to the absence of painkillers. He rest in the backseat of the car, blindfolded. The crisp, fresh air of the late night kept me alert as I rested in the trunk of the car. Hershel was asleep in the front seat and Glenn was walking the perimeter of the area with Rick.

My eyes were beginning to close when I felt the car get weighed down by another body. I looked to the edge of the trunk and saw Rick sitting there, massaging his shoulder. He glanced back at me and paused. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” I said, sitting up and pointing to his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

Rick shook his head. “No, I’ve just got this cramp in my shoulder.”

“Here,” I said, scooting next to him and placing my hand on his shoulder. “I know a trick.” I pressed my fingers along his shoulder, one by one, applying pressure. I then moved into a normal massage and then he sighed in relief.

“I’ve had that cramp in my shoulder for the longest time,” he said. “It’s my shooting shoulder.”

“My dad was a hunter,” I commented. “He’d get the same cramp. My mom used to give him a massage just like this every time he came home from a hunt.” I laughed. “She’d always say, ‘Sweetie, you’ve got to stop tensing up so much when you hunt. I can’t always be taking out these knots for you.’”

Rick chuckled with me. After a moment, he asked, “Where are your parents?”

I abruptly stopped my massage and looked up at him. “They’re dead. My mom died before the outbreak, but my dad was lost to the walkers. He died saving me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I placed my hands into my lap and shook my head, staring down at them. “It’s alright. They’re better off where they are now.” I reached up and wrapped my fingers around the crucifix on the chain around my neck.

“You still have faith?”

I nodded. “Of course... I’ve always known there was something taking care of us--even when the world goes to shit. There’s always something there to guide us...” I met his eyes with mine. “They’re just waiting for us to reach out.”

The look in Rick’s eyes changed into something I hadn’t seen before. There was a benevolent yet intriguing expression behind them and I began to mirror it. Rick leaned in closer to me, his warm breath brushing against my neck.

I hesitated as I gave in to his pull, watching his attempt to restrain himself. But the restraint was no use.

Rick pressed his lips to mine, setting his pistol down and grasping the back of my neck. I leaned further into the kiss and placed a hand in his hair, clutching on. His hand wandered down to my waist as he planted delicate kisses along my neck. I bit my lip to contain my heavy breathing and grabbed his other hand, lacing my fingers with his. I closed my eyes as I felt a wave of excitement emanate through me.

He kissed me again and again until we heard a noise in the trees nearby.