The Walking Dead: 8 months on the road- The Story of Carl

This fan-fiction is set between the end of Season 2 and the start of Season 3 of The Walking Dead. I felt that many characters develop and change over the 8 month gap so I've decided to write a story on why and how this happened. This story focuses on Carl's change as I'm sure many people will acknowledge the fact that Carl probably developed the most. This is not a romance novel, although the theme does appear, it's just a story about The Walking Dead with plenty of action and of course, death. This chapter is more of an introduction, so just let the story get started before the action begins. If this novel is successful I will probably write another set between Season 3 and Season 4. Please comment and I'm open to suggestions. I do not own The Walking Dead all copyrights to AMC.

Chapter 1

Leaves crunched underfoot as Carl Grimes trudged through the dead forest. Winter was fast approaching, and the chill of the season had well and truly arrived. The late fall chill caused his breath to billow out in front of him, although in the misty underworld of trees, Carl was surprised he noticed. Carl was a 13 year old teenager, wearing a Sheriffs hat- a gift from his father, whilst his t-shirt and jeans were caked in dirt and grime- a cold reminder of how tough his life has become. A twig snapping from behind caused him to spin around, his right hand yanking his gun out of its holster, and levelly pointing it at his would-be attacker. Nothing. Nobody was in the vicinity. He was alone. As he stood with his gun clamped in hand, he saw a mouse scurry away and bolt into the safety of the undergrowth. He felt his heart-beat return to normal and let his gun arm drop, realising the danger was passed. He snorted at this thought. The idea of no danger was a myth in this new world, a world ruled by the dead. In just one day he had gone from normal school boy to hardy survivor. It had become a world of death and terror and there was no way back. He had thought life could be relatively normal. When his group had discovered a farm and had been allowed to join the owners, life had become better. The owner of the farm, an old, religious man named Hershel, had been a life save for his group. But no more so than for him. Hershel had saved Carl's life when he had been shot whilst out hunting but best of all, he'd allowed Carl's group a place to live and heal. The group, led by his father: Rick, had settled well into the farm, until reality hit once more. Dale had been killed by a walker, not to mention the death of treacherous Shane at Ricks hand. Eventually the farm had been over-run by walkers and the group had been forced to leave. Carl felt sorrow pierce his heart, as he remembered how they'd lost Andrea that day- another victim to the world of death around them. All that had happened a whole month ago. The survivors had been on the road ever since, barely keeping going with the lack of food and safety. If things weren't bad enough, Carl's mother - Lori was two months pregnant. Another mouth to feed and things weren't getting better. As winter came ever closer, Carl knew things could only get worse. Thinking about the deaths of Dale and Andrea and the loss of the farm caused his emotions to rapidly rise until he felt hot, salty tears fall down his face. No. Enough he told himself. Standing in the forest crying wouldn't solve much. He was needed. Right now, himself, Rick, a tough red-neck named Daryl, and Hershels daughter Maggie were all on a supply run looking for the food which could well save their lives. He had a duty and he wasn't going to fail. Wiping away his tears with a grubby sleeve, Carl drew a deep breath and fixed his eyes forward. With a grim look on his face, he adjusted his Sheriffs hat, shoved his gun into its holster and marched determinedly into the wall of mist.

As the day went on the sun rose, clearing away the mist and giving Carl a renewed sense of energy. Raising his head to the sky he felt the suns warm rays shine down on him, warming his frozen body, and giving him a new sense of purpose. On a day like this, Carl could almost forget the horrors he'd seen and the hunger that racked his body. But all too soon reality returned as he was forced to drop his gaze to the rotting forest around him. 'Stop being such a dreamer and get on with it, you idiot' he told himself crossly. Continuing along the forest path he sighed as the tree line covered the suns warmth from him. The sooner he got out of this god-forsaken place the better!

After a few hours of foraging for food, Carl had earned himself a handful of berries, 6 apples, 21 peaches and had startled a red squirrel, which he had promptly shot in the head.

''Damn, it's not enough'', Carl hissed under his breath, eyeing his meagre food supply with disgust.

Realising the only option was to continue searching, Carl dumped his supply into a duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder and continued along the trail. After a few minutes, Carl reached the end of the forest. Wiping sweat from his face, he glanced up and felt his eyes widened at the sight before him. A desolate, empty town lay just ahead. Stores, automobiles and trash caught his vision as he eyed the opportunity with excitement. There was bound to be food here! How could there not be? Carl quickly entered the town, stopping in the road to draw his gun and give the stores and quick run-down, his eyes narrowed on the alert for danger. As he knew too well, looking safe was a whole lot different to being safe. A quick scan of the automobiles and side walk assured him of no walkers, although it was highly unlikely that this place was walker-free. Stepping onto the side walk, Carl decided to try his luck at the food store on the end of the block. As he reached the entrance, Carl squinted through the grimy glass to no avail. Wiping the grime away he pressed his nose against the glass and peered inside. The sight which met him caused a wide smile to break onto his face and a beacon of excitement to ignite inside him. The store was laden with food, drink and medical care, but best of all there wasn't a walker in sight. Carl tried the door and was amazed as it swung open without even a creak of protest. Things were finally starting to look up!

Barely 20 minutes later the grease-ridden door of the store swung open to reveal Carl, laden down with his treasure trove of supplies. Smiling as the sunlight hit his face, Carl dropped the duffel bag, lifted his arms into a massive stretch and stood happily gazing out at the woods. Right at that moment he could hardly believe anything could possibly go wrong. Of course that was when somebody screamed...

TO BE CONTINUED...