Chapter One
1,945 words
Hey walkers! This is a rather short chapter, compared to what I have planned.
Next update-April 9, 2014
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And a shout out to Emma! who reviewed this for me! Thank you for being there for me, even if you are half way across the U.S.!
Carl Grimes
I didn't mind sleeping outside. It was peaceful, seeing the stars peek through the treetops, the cool breeze blowing through the train tracks. It was quiet here, after everything we've been through, the quiet felt nice. The dark sky gleamed despite the cold weather. My relaxation was suddenly interrupted by screaming and gunshots. I shot up, grabbing my gun out of its holster and aiming it in front of me. I ran towards the sound. The camp. We had set up a campsite, temporarily, to settle in until we reached Terminus. When I approached the camp cautiously, I found it empty. But the screaming continued.
"Dad?" I called out to the empty campground. The little green tent set up was abandoned, and the fire was smothered out, with nothing but smoke. The dirt ground was covered in footprints, it seemed. The trailed in different directions, probably grabbed things or supplies. Then, they disappeared into the tree line. "Michonne? Daryl?" I called again.
Suddenly, two dark figures burst through the trees. "Carl!" One cried, Michonne, and grabbed me. She yanked me away from the forgotten camp. All of our supplies, left behind. "Where's dad..?" I asked, becoming worried. Michonne's eyes shone in the starlight, and she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Carl."
No... "What happened?!" I demanded. I pulled away from her grasp and stopped running. I didn't even know why we were running... Daryl grimaced. "We'll tell ya later..."
"No!" I shouted. My sanity slipped away slowly. I wanted to tear my hair out, to scream. I wasn't a little kid anymore, I needed to know what was going on.
"Carl!" Michonne cried. "Your father ran away. He left us. We need to leave. Now." I felt light headed. Why was everything blurred? Pieces of my mind slowly shattered. I couldn't move. My feet were frozen to the ground. I was paralyzed on shock. It just didn't sound like my dad, to leave. I had always respected him. He was my father! There he was always trying to protect me, then he left? I was pulled out of my thoughts by another scream.
"CARL!" Someone screamed. I couldn't see who, though. Some grabbed my hand and pulled me through the woods. I stumbled over every tree trunk or rock possible, unable to breath.
He was gone...
I woke up in cold sweat. I was lying in a cot, tangled in dirty white sheets. I ran my hand through my long hair. I needed a haircut. I sat up groggily. That happened 2 years ago. My sorrow had long since been replaced with anger. I couldn't even remember what my father looked like. My heart swelled up at the thought of it. I couldn't even remember my own father...
I shook my head and stood up, creeping across the small room, past Daryl and Michonne, to my bag. The other two were sleeping soundly. Well, sorta. Both snored loudly and Michonne was drooling a little bit. I snatched my water bottle off the little folding table and opened it. I pressed the cool water against my lips, and used a little to wash the sweat off my face. I felt the refreshing liquid cool my throat, which felt rough and scratchy. I was 16 now. I should be over it. But according to Michonne, I had changed. One way, was probably the fact that I haven't spoken since the incident.
We reached an abandoned cabin after what felt like hours of running. Daryl locked the door after all of us had rushed in. It was a tiny room, consisting of a bed, kitchen, and desk. The walls were painted deep red and some parts were chipping. The hardwood floor was scraped up, and a closet door was placed in one corner. I still didn't know what was going on, or why we ran here, or why my dad left. I immediately turned to Michonne, eyes filled with tears.
"Please..." I whispered. She glanced at Daryl mournfully. He crossed the room slowly. He put one hand on my shoulder as she explained. "While you were out taking a walk, we saw a group. They were much bigger and stronger than us, big guns and burly men. Your father- he just- went up to them and dropped his gun. We didn't know what he was doing. He had lost his mind. They accepted instantly after figuring out he had supplies. When he went to go get the supplies, I stopped him. The supplies wasn't his to take. He just pushed me away and...stole from us. He said he was doing the best for himself."
"What about us?! What about me?!" I sobbed. I couldn't process it. I didn't understand... Michonne pulled me close to her, letting me cry into her shirt.
"Shhhh..." She soothed.
We had remained in that cabin after all this time. I shook my head vigorously, trying to clear those negative thoughts. Stop it... I told myself.
"Carl?" Someone mumbled from behind me. Daryl stood up from his section of the floor. "Bad dream?" He asked. I merely nodded in response. "Your dad?" I nodded again, slowly. He sighed and shook his head.
Then, he perked up. "Hey, I was thinking, what if we did go and find Terminus? I mean, we've been on the run for so long." He asked in his usual gruff voice.
The question caught me by surprise. I hadn't even thought about that place. But really, what are the odds its still there after all this time? As if he read my thoughts, Daryl said, "It's still around. Ya know that old radio over there?" He gestured behind him, to the desk. "I fixed it up. They still sending radio calls out. We should go, ya know. See if anyone from the prisons there."
I sighed slightly. I had stopped believing in survivors after Daryl. It's been so long since the governor came, since we fought. I had forgotten, that's the reason I'm here.
"Well, don't leave me out of this decision." Michonne called from her bed in the corner. She swung her legs out and yawned, stretching her limbs and standing up. "I think we should. It's our best shot."
"Yea," Daryl agreed. "Whadda you say, Carl?" I ignored the obvious pun. What if Terminus isn't as great as we think? I feel like I'm being too negative about this, but after the prison, I haven't been able to call anywhere home for a while. But, despite my doubts, I nodded in agreement. We were all so tired, and this place wasn't going to support us much longer, so why not?
"Great," Michonne said with a sleepy smile. "Good. Night!" With that, she dragged herself back to bed. Daryl nodded in good night and returned to his little area too. I might as well try to sleep again, right? I didn't think I would sleep.
I was right.
I stayed up all night, tossing and turning. Now I was beginning to regret my decision. What if its a joke? A big prank being pulled by some moron? What if the maps lined up along the train tracks lead us straight to the zombie hive? Plus, we didn't even have enough supplies to make it to Terminus. We would starve. We were a good 7 miles away from it. And the whole, "those who arrive survive" bullshit was strange. Weren't they afraid someone would attack them? It was just stupid.
The next morning, we all set out to gather supplies for our trip. I walked over to the well, avoiding weeds that sprung 2 feet off the ground at me. Everything at this little property was overgrown. Blackberry bushes grew bunches of berries and the leaves stuck out in all different directions. Grass was green and yellow and brown, tall and covering every inch of the ground. The well was covered in thick green vines, wrapped around it like a snake. I had just come back from my weekly food run. I basically hunted rabbit and picked fruits and nuts for 5 hours. But, it was the only way to survive.
I was holding my knife in my hand readily, in case a walker lashed out. I peered over the side of the well cautiously. Everything seemed fine. I lowered the small bucket into the dark hole until I heard a satisfying plop! and the bucket was submerged in the water. It heard the trickle of water flow into it before easing the bucket up again on the pulley. I then took the plastic water bottles out of my bag and filled them up. I closed my eyes when I was finished. The woods were quiet. I had grown to hate the quiet. It made me think too much.
"Carl?" Michonne called from behind me. I turned around to find her waving something at me. Brightly colored paper was being held in her hand. I smiled as she handed the SpiderMan comic to me. I had made him my favorite superhero. Michonne knows me so well. She patted my back and took the now full water bottles from me.
As I walked back to the cabin, a harsh wind blew threw the field. I pulled my sweater tighter over me. It usually didn't get this cold at this time. It was only mid-afternoon. The sun was being covered by dark grey storm clouds, I noticed. Of course, I thought, rain. Great. Little droplets began to cascade from the sky. Then, white light ripped through the sky. I quickly rushed inside, followed by Daryl and Michonne.
"Dammit." Dary cursed. I frowned and leaned against the wall.
"It's just a little rain." Michonne reasoned, glancing outside the small window. "I think we can handle it. I'm going to collect those blackberries." When she left, Daryl frowned. I sent him a questioning look, unsure why he was upset.
"I was hoping we could start towards Terminus today. But nooo..." He said sarcastically. "It looks like the rain is gonna get heavier. We should leave tomorrow, no matter the weather. Pack your stuff, Carl, we're taking a hike."
I crossed the room to my cot, where my gray backpack lay open and empty. I packed in my extra shirt, a blanket, whatever food I had found outside. But my water bottle wouldn't fit. I rummaged through the pocket of the backpack until I felt something round at the bottom. Out of the bag I pulled out something I thought I would never see again.
An old, worn out, sheriffs hat.
I remember when my father had given it to me. It felt like centuries ago. I realized, then, that this was the only piece of him I had left. He had left me with nothing I could hold dear too. I used to wear it 24/7, and it was almost like it wasn't there. Seeing it now, abandoned at the bottom of a dirty bag, reminded me that he was gone.
I shoved it carelessly back into the bag.
"He could be at Terminus." Daryl spoke up from the window. "We could get an explanation. Maybe."
The front door opened with a creak. In stepped Michonne, who was carrying to handkerchiefs full of blackberries. I immediately rushed to assist her, ignoring Daryl's comment.
Because honestly, I wasn't sure wether I wanted to see my father again or not.
