After that conversation with Maggie, the day passed quietly. He ate something and helped Hershel repair some fences. He also suggested a few ideas to increase the farm's security and further improve the crops—proposals that, with Jimmy's help, they began to put into practice. Glenn and T-Dog also joined in the work. After a fairly productive period, during which the two survivors from Rick's group were impressed by his strength and endurance, he returned to the house to take a shower.
....Now, Jason finished buttoning his clean black shirt, his fingers still damp from the shower. The fabric clung lightly to his skin because of the humidity in the air. He ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to organize the thoughts that had been spinning nonstop since he had seen the barn.
That was when the shot echoed.
A single, dry gunshot, coming from somewhere near the house. The sound cut through the farm's silence like a crack.
Jason froze for half a second, then moved quickly. He grabbed the Damascus knife from the dresser and went down the stairs, practically leaping over the steps. When he reached the ground floor, Maggie was already in the kitchen doorway, looking out the window beside Beth and Patricia. All three were tense, their bodies rigid.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice steady, already moving closer.
Maggie turned to him, her eyes wide.
"I don't know… it came from the direction of Rick's group's camp."
Before any of them could say more, the front door burst open. Glenn rushed in, out of breath, his face sweaty and pale.
"Jason!" he called, his voice urgent. "Daryl's been hurt! He needs help!"
Jason frowned, his body already moving before his mind had fully processed it.
"Where is he?"
"In the tent. Rick, Shane, and the others brought him in a hurry. Andrea, who was on watch on top of the trailer, ended up thinking he was a walker… Yeah, I know, long story. She shot him…"
Jason didn't waste time and followed Glenn outside.
"Let's go."
Maggie took a step after him, worried.
"Jason…"
"Stay here…," he said, turning back for just a second to look at her. His voice came out softer, but still firm. "I'll handle this. If I need more help, I'll send someone to get you."
She nodded, reluctant, but didn't argue.
Jason and Glenn quickly left the house. Fortunately, the tent where Daryl was wasn't very far; it only took them a minute or two to get there.
When they arrived, they saw Daryl lying on a blanket spread over the ground, his body covered in dirt and blood. A nasty, deep wound marked the left side of his abdomen—it wasn't clean, looking like it had been caused by something irregular, like the tip of an arrow. Dark blood was still flowing, staining the area of his clothes where the wound had been inflicted. There was also a graze on his head, near the temple, where Andrea's shot had passed by, leaving a bloody groove in his scalp.
Rick was kneeling beside him, pressing an improvised cloth against the abdominal wound, his face tense. Shane stood nearby, limping slightly, his expression hard but concerned. Andrea was a bit further away, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, her face pale and guilty. Dale watched everything with attentive eyes, but without interfering.
As soon as Jason entered, all eyes turned to him.
Andrea was the first to speak, her voice trembling with guilt and anxiety:
"Jason… you finally got here! I… I shot by mistake. I thought it was a walker approaching the camp. He was dirty, with those ears… I didn't see it was him. Can you please save him?"
Rick looked up, relieved to see him, but still tense.
"He lost quite a bit of blood. The bullet only grazed his head, but the wound in his abdomen… I don't know how bad it is."
Shane let out a low grunt, not taking his eyes off Daryl.
"It's ugly. We want you to take a look, alright?"
Jason didn't waste time with unnecessary words. He immediately knelt beside Daryl, carefully moving aside the cloth Rick was pressing. The abdominal wound was deep and irregular, bleeding steadily. He examined it quickly, his fingers pressing around the area to assess the extent of the damage.
"He's going to be fine…" Jason said, his voice calm and steady. "The head wound looks superficial—fortunately, it's just a graze. There are no immediate signs of penetration or severe cranial trauma, but we still need to watch for possible symptoms over the next few hours…"
He shifted his gaze to the abdomen, his tone growing more serious.
"The main problem is here. From what I can tell, it was caused by an arrow. It pierced the abdomen, and this type of wound is always concerning. There could be damage to internal organs or internal bleeding. I need to clean the wound, control the bleeding, and suture it as soon as possible. After that, we'll have to monitor for signs of infection and any indication of internal complications…"
Jason gestured slightly toward the bloodied area.
"He improvised a compressive tourniquet with the cloth. That helped contain the blood loss temporarily, which probably saved his life."
Rick nodded, still tense.
"Yes… the cloth was soaked with blood and dirt. I thought it was better to remove it to avoid infection."
Jason gave a small approving nod.
"You did right to remove it, but ideally it should always be replaced with a clean dressing immediately. Open abdominal wounds have a high risk of contamination, especially in this environment. Now we need to act fast—every minute counts to prevent hemorrhagic shock or systemic infection." He then looked at Andrea, who still seemed shaken. "Andrea, I need a basin of hot water and several clean cloths. As fast as possible…"
Andrea nodded quickly, relieved to be able to help.
"I'm on it."
Rick leaned in a bit more, his face marked with concern.
"Is there anything we can do to help?"
Jason kept his focus on the wound as he responded, his voice controlled despite the urgency.
"Yes. I'll need a needle and strong thread, preferably sterilized. Also bring clean water—boiled, if possible—and any clean cloth or gauze you can find. And whiskey can help disinfect the instruments…"
Rick nodded immediately and turned to Glenn, who was still catching his breath near the entrance.
"Glenn, go. Needle, thread, clean water, cloths… and grab the whiskey too."
Glenn nodded and ran off without hesitation.
Jason then adjusted the pressure on the abdomen, using a piece of clean fabric to firmly compress the wound, controlling the bleeding while assessing the depth of the injury.
"Listen," he said to Daryl, now more serious. "I'm not going to close this wound completely until I'm sure there's no significant internal contamination. Closing it too early could trap infection inside. First, I need to clean as much as possible—and it's going to hurt like hell…"
Daryl began to regain consciousness, his body still weak. A low groan escaped through clenched teeth.
"Just do it… I can take a little pain. No need… for all that drama…"
Jason let out a soft breath through his nose, almost a smile, but without losing focus.
"Alright… now stay still. Any movement now will only make the bleeding worse." He adjusted the compression again, firm and precise. "You got lucky. A few more centimeters and we'd be talking about something much worse. Now save your strength—I need you conscious, but still."
His eyes quickly returned to Rick.
"When Glenn gets back, we'll need to move fast. And someone get something for him to bite—this is going to hurt."
Shane let out a low grunt, already turning before anyone could ask.
"I'll get something."
He left the tent with quick steps, still limping slightly, but without hesitation.
A few seconds later, Andrea returned almost running, carrying a basin of hot water and several clean cloths folded hastily. Steam rose faintly, revealing the temperature.
"Here… clean water and cloths," she said, kneeling beside them, still visibly shaken but trying to stay useful.
Jason nodded without taking his eyes off the wound.
"Good. Leave it here."
He dipped one of the cloths into the water, wrung out the excess, and began carefully cleaning around the wound before touching it directly, removing clotted blood and dirt from the surrounding skin.
"I need to see exactly what I'm dealing with before I do anything…" he muttered, more to himself than to the others.
With firm but precise movements, he began irrigating the wound, using the water to help flush out dirt and possible debris. His expression hardened slightly as he noticed the irregular depth of the injury—fortunately, the arrow had passed through…
Rick swallowed hard and asked,
"Will he need surgery?"
Jason didn't answer immediately. He kept cleaning, carefully observing Daryl's reactions, the color of the blood, the depth.
"If any vital organ was perforated, yes. But right now, our focus is to stabilize him, control the bleeding, and prevent infection. Without that, he wouldn't even make it to surgery."
Daryl let out a louder groan as Jason cleaned deeper.
"Damn… that burns…"
"It's supposed to," Jason replied bluntly. "If there's dirt in there, infection is almost certain."
Andrea looked away for a moment, clearly affected.
Jason then held out his hand without looking.
"Another cloth."
Andrea promptly placed one in his hand.
He pressed the wound again with controlled firmness, assessing the bleeding.
"Rick, I need you to keep pressure right here…" he said, guiding his hand to the exact spot. "Constant. Not so hard that you cause more damage, but firm enough to contain the bleeding."
Rick nodded, focused.
"Like this?"
"That's it. Don't remove it until I tell you."
At that moment, Shane returned, tossing a piece of thick leather—probably part of a belt—beside Jason.
"This good enough for him to bite?"
Jason picked it up, gave it a quick look, and nodded.
"Perfect."
He leaned a little closer to Daryl and explained, "Listen. When I start cleaning deeper and exploring the wound, it's going to hurt a lot. Bite this and don't move. If you move now, I could make the injury worse without meaning to."
Daryl huffed, but opened his mouth to take the leather.
"Just do it…"
Jason positioned it and then quickly looked around.
"Where's Glenn…?"
As if summoned, Glenn appeared at the tent entrance, breathing hard, carrying an improvised bag with the supplies.
"I got everything… or as close as I could…" he said, handing them over.
Jason quickly took them: a needle, thread, a bottle of whiskey, and more clean cloths.
"Good enough." Without wasting time, he poured some whiskey over the needle and thread, rubbing them with a clean cloth. "Not ideal sterilization, but it's what we have…"
Then he quickly washed his hands with the hot water, removing as much dirt as possible before returning to the wound.
"Rick, keep the pressure… now I'm starting."
He removed the cloth for a few seconds and immediately began irrigating the entry wound directly with clean water, using his hands to keep the edges open enough for cleaning. The water ran mixed with blood, carrying away dark dirt and small debris.
Daryl clenched his jaw around the leather, his body tensing.
Jason didn't stop. He repeated the process at the exit point, ensuring the tract was as clean as possible within their limitations. His fingers pressed lightly around the wound, assessing.
"No pulsatile bleeding… good sign. Probably didn't hit any major arteries." He then took a clean cloth, folded it, and placed it as a compress over the exit wound. "In cases of through-and-through wounds, drainage is essential."
He returned to the entry point and prepared the needle with the thread.
"I'm going to partially approximate the edges—just enough to help healing, but without closing it completely."
With precise, controlled movements, he began suturing. Each stitch was firm, spaced enough to allow drainage.
Daryl let out a muffled sound, his body trembling slightly, but he didn't move.
Jason placed only a few stitches—just enough to stabilize the tissue. After that, he positioned clean cloths on both the entry and exit points, creating a compressive dressing, but not overly tight.
"We need to change this regularly. Always clean." He then leaned back slightly, assessing his work. "For now, the bleeding is under control."
A brief silence fell over the tent—tense, but less desperate.
Jason then shifted position, turning his attention to Daryl's head. He took a clean cloth, soaked it in water, and began cleaning the wound at the temple. The blood had partially clotted, forming an irregular crust. Carefully, he removed the excess, revealing the groove left by the bullet. He poured a bit of whiskey onto another cloth and pressed it lightly against the cut.
Daryl grunted against the leather.
After cleaning it completely, he took a strip of clean cloth and wrapped it around Daryl's head, adjusting the pressure enough to protect the wound without compromising anything.
When he finished, he finally let out a light sigh.
"Done."
He looked at Rick, Shane, and the others, his expression still serious.
"Now comes the most important part: observation. He needs to rest, stay hydrated, and be under constant watch." His gaze hardened slightly. "If he develops fever, chills, worsening abdominal pain, vomiting, or confusion… call me immediately. That could indicate internal infection."
Rick nodded.
"We'll keep an eye on him."
Jason then looked at Daryl, who was still breathing heavily, but conscious.
"You're not out of danger yet… but you've made it past the worst part for now."
Daryl let out a weak grunt, exhausted.
"…I've had worse days…"
Jason allowed himself a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
"I can imagine."
___________________
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