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Survival Isn't An Option	By : Pilgrim Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters from the series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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“I’m not who I was,” Isabelle pointed out. “I don’t think anyone here can say they’ve stayed true to who they were before.”
“Yeah,” Daryl smiled and leaned backwards, the midday heat making the surrounding air swirl.
          Isabelle glanced across to where Carol was talking to the two small girls at the fence. For a moment her mind wandered to that, what if Daryl had had a family once. His patience and no-shit tolerance would have made him an ace father figure, if that was really who he was.
“Have you changed that much?” She whispered, wondering if she was broaching too close to his hatred of acknowledging the past.
He turned quiet eyes to her and she couldn’t meet his gaze, he wasn’t going to answer that. Fingers squeezed her shoulder as he strode away back to the prison. “This world doesn’t have to redefine us, it just gives us another opportunity to be our best selves.”
Isabelle stared at him, those tattered angel wings on the back of his jacket had never been so appropriate. For someone who claimed to have been no one, he had a way of being something so much more than expected. Her eyes turned back to Carol and the girls. Had she done the right thing taking that tablet, her fingers played over her stomach lightly. What was happening to her? She had never sought an exclusive relationship, never desired a family situation. Her future had been written out for her since day one at ballet school. She was supposed to dance, bring joy and culture to thousands every year. All the time she would socialise with the elite, land some rich singleton or divorced man and be a pretty little trophy wife. When she retired she’d have a boutique clothing line with the odd handbag but mostly she would look good and represent her husband well, doing charitable things. Love had never been on the agenda, if it happened great, if it didn’t fine, life had been about money and being beautiful. Now it seemed absurd to do such a thing without love. No, she’d made the right decision and she let her hand fall from her stomach to hang at her side. Her eyes met Carol’s for long enough for her to know the older women knew something of her thoughts. Isabelle lowered her eyes and headed for the prison, clearing her throat from the tickle that was growing there.
She looked at the sky, felt the heat of the midday sun and the sweat that was starting to bead on her brow. Quickly she brushed it away but she already knew what it meant and swallowed in trepidation. Her eyes took in the outside world, was this the last time she was going to see it. It had been years since she’d been sick. Already her head was starting to swirl, she felt sick to her stomach and a pounding headache was starting to develop. She had to get to cell block D, she couldn’t risk someone touching her and getting sick. Stumbling she hurried towards the cell doors and banged her fist against it. Caleb appeared at the window and hurriedly opened the door to let her in.
“Don’t worry,” He whispered and ushered her towards a cell. “It’ll be ok, the others are already working on getting supplies.”
“Let me help while I can,” Isabelle glanced down the corridor.
          The progression of the illness was rapid, already those that she had seen well this morning were prostrate in varying degrees of collapse. Her eyes fell on Isaac’s prone form, the corpses still hadn’t been removed, instead lined up neatly against the wall nearest the door. Kaley was sat to the left of them all, as if waiting her death. She’d spent several days with her earlier in the summer, working on fixing bed linen to last them through the winter. She was close to death from the looks of her and didn’t want to waste anyone’s energy moving her body. Cautiously Isabelle approached her, she blinked up at her, blood already oozing from her eyes and trailing from the corners of her mouth. A deep rattle emanated from her chest followed by a gurgling cough, causing more blood to ooze forth.
“Hey Kaley, here,” Isabelle ripped her shirt and dabbed at the blood splatters on her face. “You want some water?” She turned to look for a cup and pitcher only for Kaley to grab her wrist and stop her.
“Don’t… don’t lie down…” Kaley hissed, blood bubbling up and out of her lips. “You… won’t… be able… to breathe…” She descended into a coughing fit that seemed to rupture her from the inside out.
          Isabelle pressed her upright to the wall with a hand on her shoulder and held her there until the coughing ceased. There was too much blood to mop away now, it ran down her chest and pooled into her lap. She held Kaley’s gaze as she sucked in air desperately and her fingers clenched and released in pain. They both knew what was happening. She was drowning, right in front of her. Isabelle pulled her dagger free and pulled Kaley into a tight hug with one arm as she placed the dagger at the base of her skull. Silently she surged the blade up and through her spinal cord. The body twitched as she angled the blade again and ensured it got into her brain this time as well. Slowly the twitches abated and Isabelle eased her lifeless form down onto the floor. Better to die swiftly to a blades edge than be drowned in your own life’s essence. A sheet appeared to her right and she helped drape it over Kaley’s body.
          Caleb offered her a hand to help her upright and pointed to an empty cell. She knew she was going to be locked in, not only was she sick herself, she’d just covered herself in contaminated blood. There was a bucket and sponge and a replacement dress waiting for her. It looked suspiciously like one Sonia had worn a few weeks ago, but it would have to do. She started to strip and scrub at the blood on her once more. Was she going to have even one day without being covered in blood or gore? After several minutes she was forced to drop onto the bed half naked as her head swirled. Her underwear dug into her ribcage as she felt her lungs struggle to draw air in. Realising she was hunching she stretched up and grasped the edge of the bed above her, forcing her ribcage to stretch up and spread out. Breath was a little easier to come by and she was still in that position an hour later when Caleb returned on his rounds to check everyone. His silent help into the dress was more than appreciated as she struggled her arms in and was left exhausted to the point even the buttons were too much.
          Daryl, he didn’t know she was in here, would he care? What she would give to see him one last time. It felt like the end, her ribs were aching, there was a deathly heat growing from her very heart and searing down her arms and legs. At the same time she wanted nothing more than the plush duvet she had at home, its thick layers so warm even in the depths of winter, as she started to shiver with a chill that froze her bones. She’d had flu before, this was too fast, and it was too hot and too cold. Everything was hurting, joints aching as if she’d been dancing for too long. She was dying, she was sure of it. Her nose was running, she sniffed and tasted the metallic tang of blood. Urgently she wiped her hand under her nose and stared at the bright red that was now collecting there.
          It was just a nosebleed she told herself, just a nosebleed, she always got them when she got a cold. Silently she pinched her nose and tilted her head forwards to stop the blood from going into her empty stomach as Caleb ran to get a towel. He needed to tend to the others, she wasn’t that sick yet. She took the towel from him gratefully and motioned for him to leave, he didn’t look convinced but eventually left. There was nothing more he could do right now. They needed medicine, supplies and there was only him capable of doing anything right now in terms of medical assistance. Others were more worthy of his ministrations, others needed him more.
          Slowly the stream of blood ceased, the towel saturated as she washed it in the bucket and stared at the bright crimson mess. Somehow she felt better, her head was clearer as if the pressure had been released. Shakily she made her way onto her feet and headed into the main hallway. Another two bodies had joined the pile. She stared at them, wondering who was under those sheets and at the same time not wanting to know who had lost their fight. She didn’t want to wish her life traded with theirs when she was already locked into this deadly dance with death. Her attention turned to Caleb, sat on the old picnic style prison table with his head in his hands. Shuffling she made her way to him and dropped onto the seat opposite, she offered a hand and smiled as he pressed his fingers into hers. At the minute, they were the only two awake. Night had fallen as she’d fought for breath, it must have been longer than an hour she’d struggled for with her hands gripping the cold bar.
“Can I see Daryl?” Isabelle whispered as Caleb slowly turned kind eyes to her.
“There’s an observation room, to the right there,” He pointed in the direction of the door. “I’ll let him know you want to see him. You look better, how do you feel?”
“Like I got punched in the face,” Isabelle quirked her lips at him and squeezed his hand. “I feel better, as if pressure’s been released. I hope it’s not too short lived. Is there anything I can do to help while I’m able?”
“No, if you’re feeling better you should rest,” Caleb sighed wearily. “Perhaps you’ve somehow managed to beat it.”
          Isabelle nodded, it made sense and even if she hadn’t beaten it then the rest would make it more likely for her to survive a resurgence. The walk back to her cell was absurdly long, her vision swimming by the time she reached the door. It took what felt like an inhuman amount of effort to slide the door shut and bolt it. Sweat was gathered on her forehead and nausea coursed through her system. It wasn’t over, not be a long shot. Stumbling to her cot she dropped onto it, remembering Kaley’s words she forced herself to get the energy she needed to prop the pillows into an upright position. Carefully she wriggled back into them and tilted her head slightly backwards to keep her throat clear and the oesophagus straight. She was going to beat this, no matter what it took.
          Her name being called stirred her from her sleep. There was a thundering on the door that no one was answering or was that just her pulse banging in her head. Either way, it needed to be silenced. Swallowing painfully she slowly swung her legs around and made her way to the cell door. Peering through she spotted Daryl at the main door, if it hadn’t been locked from this side she was sure he would have broken through already. Brushing the sweat from her forehead she forced herself to have the energy to open the cell door and made her way through. She stood swaying on the opposite side of the glass door.
“Sorry, I asked Caleb to…” Isabelle began.
“You ok?” Daryl demanded, his eyes were locked into hers with a ferocity she’d never seen before in anyone.
“Yeah, well, I’m in here, but I’ll be ok. Caleb says I’m doing better than most of them in here,” Isabelle responded dully. “Oh god, there’s more,” Her attention fell to the new pile of five bodies by the door.
“You listen to me, you’ll be just fine you hear,” Daryl shouted, more agitated than she had seen him in a long while, pressed as close to the door as he could get. “We’re heading out to get medicine, you need to be here when I get back. You understand? You be here. You do whatever you have to, you just stay alive all right?”
          Isabelle nodded, feeling a trail of something from her nose once more. She brushed it away and wiped the blood off on the dress. A tear fell from her eye and she brushed that away too, the same blood stain now rolling from her eyes. “I’ll be here,” She would be here, she just couldn’t promise in what capacity.
          Silently he pressed a hand to the glass and she pressed hers too, seeing the stain of blood spread out from it. She watched Daryl nod curtly and head away. She glanced back at Caleb, slouched over the picnic table deeply asleep and a stain of blood at his own mouth. Further back the deep hiss of a walker drew her attention. Death was walking these halls again, prowling with inhuman intent in any body it could dig its ragged nails into. She drew her dagger and headed for the cells further back, there would be no sleeping knowing that a walker was in the cell block with her. Even if they hadn’t figured out how to open the doors yet there was a lack of security just knowing that one lurked barely twenty feet away.
          Pressed to the bars the walker snapped at her, blood oozing from its eyes, mouth and nose. Silently she pressed the blade into its eye, straight through to its brain and watched it crumple down at the cell door. A second hiss issued from upstairs and she glanced up. The stairs seemed such an effort but again she wouldn’t sleep with one in here. By the time she reached the bottom step the hiss had ceased and she looked into the sweat drenched face of Caleb as he stumbled down them to meet her.
“It’s done,” He whispered, faltering clumsily down the stairs. “You need to sleep.”
“So do you Caleb, we all need you,” Isabelle pointed out, offering a supporting hand to him as he neared her. Together they limped and shuffled to the picnic table.
          Silently she pressed a blanket around his shoulders and headed back to her cell as a cough wracked her body. Heavily she dropped onto the bed and shuffled back into position, pressing her head back and ignoring the ache it caused in her lower back. Right now, it was more important to keep breathing. Sleep came upon her heavily and stole the remainder of the night from her.
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Survival Isn't An Option