Ch.48 ~ Sacrifice and Survival

                                    

                                          
A/n: Guys I feel like a proud sister... My younger sister has finally started the walking dead after years of trying to get her to watch it. She started it on Monday and is already on season 7! She is hooked. 
Funnily enough she said to me at first "Ew Daryl isn't the vibe." 
Obviously I defended our man but by season 4 she was like:
"Omg Daryl's really grown on me he's like cool and badass." She also slandered the hell out of Lori and Shane and I was just full supportive and proud sister at this point.
Anyway bit of a long chapter cause I didn't wanna split this scene up.
TW: Death of both humans and animals mentioned. Please note towards the end of the book the author isn't displaying animal cruelty simply doing what Y/n needed to survive.
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Y/n's POV
Barging through the front door with everyone else in tow revealed the horrific sight of tens, no, hundreds of walkers staggering their way onto the farm from the direction of the barn with some headed in our direction and others headed towards the barn itself.
'Someone must be down there. Rick and Shane maybe?' The thought was distant but still present in my mind though most of my focus was on the walkers. My mind ran with reasons on how so many had merged together and how they had gotten here. 
'Where'd they come from? How far have they travelled? Were they already close by? If they were drawn in by the gunfire then they must have been. If the sound of the gun hadn't drawn them in, were they already headed our way? Would we have been caught by surprise in the middle of the night and torn to shreds? Was whoever fired those shots our downfall or our saviour?'
Skylla's growls were the only other sound heard besides the loud shuffles and growls of walkers closing in on us, as the group was consumed by shock horror staring out at the sight.
The eerie silence that consumed our group as we watched the walkers stagger in from the direction of the barn was heavy, almost suffocating. It made me awfully aware of the sound thumping against my ears. Not in a long time had I heard the sound of my own heart trembling in fear. Being a captain of a squadron I had no time to let myself fall into the grasp of such emotions but now that everything's changed, the switch which was usually off had finally switched back on and like a tidal wave it came crashing down on me like a stack of bricks. 
Unconsciously my hand reached out to my left, shaky fingers grazing against rough but steady ones. I felt his hand gently wrap around my own and squeeze it in an attempt to offer me reassurance. While I was thankful for the action it did little to kill the small voice in the back of my head which sent shivers down my spine.
I had told the group death was in the air but it was far more than the strong stench of rotting flesh which followed the group of corpses. Far more than what Skylla could smell. The voice, my gut, a hunch, all telling me that while the herd would lose tens of its members it wouldn't come without a price. The price of some lives in this group. Who's? I could not tell, but I knew when the sun rose in the sky on the following day, when black turned to blue, grey would turn to red. Clouds the colour of blood would signify that of what would be shed on this night. 
"Patricia, kill the lights." Hershel's voice was the net to pull me from my sinking subconscious which tried to pull me into a state of paralysis. Unable to move, unable to fight, willing to give up.
Taking a deep breath I recomposed myself the best I could. I couldn't let myself be one of the blood red clouds to decorate the morning clouds and the green ground.