Running through a walker infested city with a dying teenager in his arms is not exactly how Kenny expected to spend his afternoon. Then again, Kenny couldn’t really expect much less from the end of the world.
Kenny also wasn’t one to panic, not really. The worst possible scenarios usually had solutions. Bad weather on a boating trip? Alert the coast guard, drop anchor, and try your hardest to stay dry.
“God Dammit!” Kenny muttered. The weight in his arms was only slowing him down and the increasing amount of blood that seemed to seep into his very bones was only making him panic more. Running down a street with nothing but broken and looted homes within his eyesight, his only goal was finding shelter fast.
Oh thank fuck, He thought, eyeing a mansion similar to the one he had stayed in earlier. The home was two stories high and looked relatively secure with boarded up windows.
I gotta break the door down, He mentally resolved, sprinting towards the front door. Using the last of his energy, Kenny kicked the door with his foot using as much strength he could muster.
Kenny kicked again, his arms slagging slightly, leaving the teenager’s feet scraping the ground. With the walkers drawing closer, the older man kicked again harder.
“God Fucki- PLEASE, ” Kenny pleaded. His time was dwindling as his weakened body ached. The walkers were nearing the yard, their moans echoing throughout the city, only adding to the fear and desperation Kenny felt. He quickly took three steps back, before speeding up slightly and slamming his right foot down next to the handle. The door snapped open, swinging back wildly. Kenny didn’t waste time running inside and shutting the door behind him.
The door wouldn’t hold shut for long, leaving Kenny to place (more like drop) Ben onto the ground before quickly turning around, looking for anything to hold the door. He quickly spotted a console table seated besides a nearby coat hanging rack just before the door and pushed it in front of the door. Kenny ran further into the home, the sounds of walkers banging on the walls of the house following him. Taking a left to what he presumed to be a living room, Kenny spotted a small loveseat and used the last of his strength to pull it up besides the console table, firmly securing the door. It would have to do for now.
Kenny’s attention swiftly flew to Ben’s limp form on the ground, blood still steadily pooling out from underneath his unmoving body.
“Fucking hell, Ben.” Kenny pulled the kid from under his shoulders and began to half drag, half hold him into the kitchen leaving a bloody trail in his steps.
The kitchen was by no means small. Three of its four walls had various white counters with marble countertops, along with cabinets, a fairly large oven, microwave, and fridge. A kitchen island was placed in the center of the room with three stools haphazardly placed around it. Kenny quickly pulled Ben onto the counter, his legs still slightly hanging off the edge and ripped off his letterman and shirt.
“Fucking hell,” Kenny whispered, closing his eyes as he tried his hardest to fight the urge to vomit. Ben’s entire abdomen was soaked with blood, all of which was pouring out of a gaping crescent shaped wound. Kenny knew there would also be a similar opening on the kids back, not too mention the teen’s leg was fucked up.
Ben's time was dwindling.
Kenny quickly removed his T-shirt, placing it over the wound, before running throughout the house in search for a bathroom. He knew his luck was running low, he had a kid bleeding out in the kitchen for god's sake, but he needed to focus on finding any form of medical salvation.
Kenny sprinted down the main hall before spotting a bathroom to his right. He almost tripped under his own feet as he turned into the bathroom, his heart pounding in his chest. The man didn’t hesitate before frantically diving underneath the sink.
“Fucking finally,” Kenny exclaimed, grabbing a small first aid kit. It wouldn’t have much but it would have to do. He quickly got up and bolted towards the kitchen, the kit slippery in his shaking, bloodied hands.
In the brief moments Kenny had left, his T-shirt had been almost completely soaked in blood, leaving him even more panicked than before. This kid was dying. Kenny knew that, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t at least try to help him. Giving up was not an option.
Kenny quickly opened the kit with shaking hands, eyes searching for anything to sew up the wound. He quickly spotted a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide along with some cloth, and began dousing the cloth.
“T-This is going to fucking hurt,” Kenny muttered silently. “Please, for your own s-sake, stay out.” Kenny then placed the cloth over the wound, rubbing around the wound as fast as possible. Ben had yet to even flinch.
Satisfied, Kenny quickly grabbed the small needle and thread from the first aid kit. He swallowed down against the bile building up in his throat once more, before sliding the needle through Ben’s skin and sewing up the wound as fast as he physically could.
Kenny cut the thread with the small scissors located in the kit before frantically flipping Ben onto his back and repeating the process.
Kenny leaned back against the counters adjacent to Ben. The kid was finally all stitched up yet looked disturbingly pale. He wasn’t sure if he was still alive, or if he was, how much longer Ben had left.
“Holy shit,” Kenny murmured, before drying his hands with a dish towel from the counter beside him. He wasn’t sure what to do at this point. The walkers outside had dwindled to only a handful in the minutes he was working, not that leaving was an option. Yet Ben could be dead by nightfall and everyone knew what happens after that. Kenny didn’t know if he had it in him to kill Ben if he were to turn. He couldn’t even take out that random walker in the attic back at the mansion.
He was also exhausted. Kenny had to rest, whether Ben died or not.
Kenny decided against moving the teen to a more comfortable seat, afraid of jostling him too much and injuring him even more. He shuffled to his feet, opening the drawer besides him in search for anything that would pass as a weapon. He searched the drawer, finding it filled with various ooking supplies. A moment passed before the man grabbed a rolling pin, testing it in his hands before being satisfied.
Kenny casted one last glance at the teen, his eyes searching his pale body, before slowly making his way deeper into the house. He need to at least make sure every room was safe before resting. The bottom floor was presumably clear, consisting of a living room, kitchen, study, dining room, and bathroom, all of which were fairly cleared out.
He gradually made his way up to the second floor, eyes shifting up and down the hall. The floor consisted of 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, with only a few items left behind. Thankfully nobody, or no thing , was in the home.
Kenny shuffled back down the steps, deciding on crashing on the couch for as long as he could. He casted one last glance towards the kitchen before placing the rolling pin on the coffee table and lying down on the sofa. Sleep quickly claimed him.