CHAPTER 22: THE ROAD TO FORT BENNING - PART 2
POV: Carl Grimes
Carl balances on the fallen log, arms outstretched like a tightrope walker, while Sophia and Louis Morales cheer him on from below. The adults are taking another rest stop—something about checking routes and mechanical stuff that's boring to twelve-year-old minds.
"I bet I can walk the whole thing without falling," Carl boasts, taking another careful step along the moss-covered trunk.
"Bet you can't," Sophia challenges with the devastating honesty of youth.
Through the trees, Carl catches a glimpse of brown movement—a deer, he thinks, graceful and unafraid. Adventure calls with the irresistible voice that's led boys into trouble since the beginning of time.
"Come on," Carl whispers to his companions. "Let's follow it."
POV: Lori Grimes
Lori discusses route options with Rick and Dale, spreading their collection of Georgia road maps across the RV's table. Fort Benning lies another forty miles southeast, but the direct route passes through areas Glenn marked as "problematic" during his last scouting run.
"Back roads might be safer," Rick suggests. "Slower, but less likely to encounter large groups."
"Or we could push straight through," Dale counters. "Get there fast, deal with problems as they come."
It's a strategic debate interrupted by maternal instinct when Lori realizes the background chatter of children's voices has gone silent.
"Where are the kids?" Lori asks, scanning the immediate area with growing concern.
POV: Scott
Scott's System pings urgently just as Lori voices what he's already detected.
[MINORS UNACCOUNTED FOR]
[CARL GRIMES - LOCATION UNKNOWN]
[SOPHIA PELETIER - LOCATION UNKNOWN]
[DANGER ASSESSMENT: MODERATE]
"Not again. First Sophia wanders off chasing butterflies, now Carl's leading an expedition into unknown terrain. Kids have a death wish in this world."
"They went into the woods," Scott announces, already moving toward the tree line. "I heard them talking about following something—probably wildlife."
Rick's face goes white as he realizes his son is missing. Again.
POV: Daryl Dixon
Daryl reads the children's trail with hunter's eyes, following broken twigs and disturbed leaves deeper into Georgia pine forest. Three sets of small footprints leading downhill toward the sound of running water.
"Kids and water don't mix. Especially kids who think they're braver than they are."
"They're heading for the creek," Daryl reports to Scott and Rick. "Moving fast, excited about something."
The trail leads them along an increasingly steep slope where exposed roots and loose rocks make footing treacherous even for adults. For children distracted by adventure, it's an accident waiting to happen.
POV: Carl Grimes
Carl spots the deer again through a gap in the trees—beautiful, wild, free from the nightmare the world has become. He moves closer, gesturing for Sophia and Louis to follow, when the ground gives way beneath his feet.
The slope is steeper than it looks, slick with autumn leaves and hidden moisture. Carl tumbles downward, grabbing frantically for handholds that crumble in his grasp, until his leg catches against an exposed root with a sound like breaking wood.
Pain explodes through his left leg as he comes to rest at the bottom of a ten-foot ravine. Above him, Sophia screams his name while Louis runs for help.
POV: Scott
Scott hears Carl's scream echo through the forest and breaks into a sprint, crashing through underbrush with System-enhanced speed and sure footing.
[MEDICAL EMERGENCY DETECTED]
[CARL GRIMES: INJURED - FRACTURE PROBABLE]
[IMMEDIATE INTERVENTION REQUIRED]
[MEDICAL PROTOCOLS: ACTIVATED]
He reaches the ravine's edge to find Carl conscious but pale, his left leg bent at an angle that makes Scott's EMT training scream warnings. Compound fracture, possible arterial damage, shock setting in.
"Carl! Don't move!" Scott shouts, rappelling down the slope with controlled urgency. "I'm coming down to help."
POV: Rick Grimes
Rick's world narrows to his son's pain-filled face at the bottom of the ravine, everything else becoming background noise. Carl's leg is obviously broken—bone protruding through torn pants, blood pooling beneath the injury.
"Not Carl. Not my boy. We can't lose him. I can't lose him."
"How bad?" Rick calls down to Scott, who's already kneeling beside Carl with medical supplies from his pack.
"Compound fracture," Scott reports with clinical calm. "But he's conscious, responsive, no signs of head trauma. I can stabilize him, but we need proper medical care soon."
POV: Scott
Scott's enhanced First Aid abilities guide his hands through emergency triage while his System provides continuous analysis of Carl's condition.
[PATIENT STATUS: STABLE BUT SERIOUS]
[FRACTURE: COMPOUND, MID-TIBIA]
[BLOOD LOSS: MODERATE]
[SHOCK INDICATORS: PRESENT]
[TREATMENT PRIORITY: STABILIZATION, IMMOBILIZATION, TRANSPORT]
"Carl, I need you to stay very still while I work on your leg," Scott says, his voice carrying the calm authority that's kept countless patients stable during transport. "You're going to be okay, but this is going to hurt a bit."
Carl nods bravely, tears streaming down his face but trying not to cry in front of the adults. "Is it bad?"
"It's broken, but bones heal," Scott says, applying pressure to control bleeding while preparing splinting materials. "Lots of people break bones and come back stronger."
POV: Daryl Dixon
Daryl coordinates the extraction with military efficiency, rigging rope systems and organizing supplies while Scott works medical magic in the ravine. The hunter's seen plenty of field medicine—hunting accidents, falls, the routine violence of country life—but Scott's skill level impresses him.
"Boy knows his business. Steady hands, clear thinking, no panic. Kid's lucky it was Scott who found him."
"Need anything else down there?" Daryl calls.
"Transport," Scott replies, securing Carl's leg in an improvised splint. "And we need to find proper medical care fast. This is beyond field treatment."
POV: Carl Grimes
The pain comes in waves, stealing Carl's breath and making his vision blur around the edges. But Scott's presence is steady, reassuring, the kind of calm competence that makes impossible situations feel manageable.
"Am I going to lose my leg?" Carl asks quietly, voicing the fear that's bigger than pain.
"No," Scott says with absolute certainty. "This is fixable. But we need to get you to someone with the right equipment—X-rays, surgical tools, proper antibiotics."
Carl nods, trusting Scott's judgment the way children trust adults who've proven themselves reliable under pressure.
POV: Lori Grimes
Lori watches her husband descend into the ravine to help carry Carl out, her heart hammering against her ribs with maternal terror. Shane used to talk about worst-case scenarios, about losing people to the stupid accidents that kill more survivors than walkers ever do.
"Broken leg. Not a bite. Not an infection. Just a broken leg that can be fixed if we find the right help."
"There's a farm nearby," Scott calls up as they prepare Carl for transport. "Saw a mailbox about a mile back—Greene Family Farm. If they're still there, they might have medical supplies."
POV: Scott
Scott's System confirms what he already knows from canonical memory—Hershel Greene's veterinary practice, medical supplies, surgical capability. But approaching the farm under these circumstances changes everything about their first contact.
[INHABITED STRUCTURE: 0.8 KM NORTHEAST]
[MEDICAL SUPPLIES: PROBABLE]
[RESIDENTS: 7 HUMANS DETECTED]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: NEUTRAL]
"Hershel's there, just like in canon. But without Sophia lost in the woods, without the search that led to Carl getting shot, everything about this encounter is different."
They carry Carl through the forest on an improvised stretcher, taking turns bearing his weight while maintaining careful movement to avoid aggravating his injuries. The boy's brave, making jokes between waves of pain, but his face grows paler with each passing minute.
POV: Hershel Greene
Hershel emerges from his farmhouse at the sound of approaching voices, shotgun in hand but lowered when he recognizes the nature of their emergency. A injured child, adult voices calling for medical help—the kind of crisis that transcends suspicion of strangers.
"A boy. Hurt badly from the look of it. These people aren't raiders or thieves—they're parents seeking help for their child."
"What happened?" Hershel asks, setting aside his weapon as they approach with Carl on the stretcher.
"Fall into a ravine," Scott explains, matching pace with the veterinarian as they head toward the house. "Compound fracture, left tibia. I've stabilized him, but he needs surgical attention."
Hershel evaluates Scott during their brief exchange, noting the medical terminology and professional bearing. Another healthcare worker, possibly—someone who understands the situation's severity.
POV: Maggie Greene
Maggie watches from the porch as strangers carry an injured child toward their home, her father already shifting into medical mode despite his usual caution about outsiders. The group looks exhausted, desperate, but not dangerous—families with children, elderly members, the composition of refugees rather than raiders.
One young Asian man among them catches her attention with his nervous energy and obvious competence as he helps coordinate the medical response. Cute, in a lost puppy kind of way.
"Well. This should be interesting."
POV: Hershel Greene
Inside the farmhouse, Hershel and Scott work together with seamless coordination. The stranger's medical knowledge is impressive—proper terminology, sterile technique, understanding of shock protocols. Definitely professional training.
"You're EMT?" Hershel asks while preparing surgical instruments.
"Five years, Atlanta Fire Department," Scott confirms, monitoring Carl's vitals. "This is beyond my scope, but I can assist."
They set Carl's leg with veterinary precision adapted for human anatomy, Scott providing expert assistance while Rick and Lori hover anxiously nearby. The boy's stable, sedated, leg properly aligned and casted.
"He'll need antibiotics, pain management, and six weeks of limited mobility," Hershel explains to Rick. "But he should heal completely."
POV: Rick Grimes
Relief floods through Rick as Hershel delivers the prognosis—Carl will be okay, complete recovery expected, no permanent damage. The nightmare scenario of losing his son fades into manageable reality.
"Thank you," Rick says, gripping Hershel's hand with genuine gratitude. "We can pay—"
"No payment necessary," Hershel interrupts gently. "I took an oath to do no harm. That applies to all God's creatures."
Rick studies their host—elderly veterinarian, kind eyes, the bearing of someone who's maintained moral clarity despite the world's collapse. These are good people, the kind they need to ally with.
"We're travelers, heading to Fort Benning," Rick explains. "Lost our permanent shelter recently. If Carl could rest here during recovery..."
Hershel nods understanding. "You're welcome to stay until the boy's mobile. We have space, and extra hands are always useful on a farm."
POV: Scott
That evening, both communities share dinner in the Greene farmhouse—awkward but hopeful first contact between groups learning to coexist. Scott observes family dynamics while keeping his foreknowledge carefully hidden.
Beth's quiet musical talent, Maggie's sharp intelligence, Hershel's measured wisdom. The same people from canon, but encountered under different circumstances that might change everything about their relationships.
His System detects the barn's secret—multiple human signatures with walker-like vital readings—but Scott stays silent. Without Sophia lost and the desperate search, the barn revelation will unfold differently.
"They're keeping infected family members, just like in canon. But this time we can address it calmly, rationally, without the emotional pressure of a missing child. Maybe we can find a better solution."
Glenn can't stop staring at Maggie, who notices his attention with amused tolerance. That relationship might develop along canonical lines despite the changed circumstances.
"You seem to know what you're doing," Hershel observes quietly to Scott. "Medical field?"
"Emergency medicine," Scott confirms. "Seen my share of trauma cases."
Hershel nods slowly, recognizing kindred professional spirit. "Good to have someone with proper training. This world's hard on people who lack medical knowledge."
The conversation carries weight beyond its words—professional respect, shared understanding of medical ethics, recognition that Scott might be someone Hershel can work with rather than merely tolerate.
As night falls over the Greene farm, Scott lies in an unfamiliar bed and processes the day's changes. Carl's injury replaced Sophia's disappearance as the catalyst for finding the farm. Canon events continue, but along altered paths that might lead anywhere.
For now, Carl heals safely while their communities begin the delicate process of learning whether they can coexist. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, but tonight offers the precious gift of relative safety and hope for successful cooperation.
Outside, Georgia's night sounds provide peaceful backdrop to recovery and new beginnings. The story continues, but along roads Scott helped choose rather than simply walked.
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