"It's been over a week since we started searching, Carl-"
"You don't think I know that?" he screamed at her, his face distorting with aggression.
She stepped back allowing space between the two of them. "I'm just saying that if you want to try another direction, we can."
"Yeah, West. Let's move." He trudged ahead of Eileen who was beginning to feel anxious around the boy. He was missing his Dad and even though he had been very dismissive and unworried about the entire situation just days before, it appeared that he too was beginning to feel doubt.
She walked behind him, through the empty field, head down facing the grass. Since they were mislead by the water vole to the marsh, the two of them had managed to find a few unopened water bottles from a six-pack in the cupboard of a small village house. The area boasted several key locations for Carl and Eileen's survival: an apple tree, some carrots, and a church with tins for what would have been the homeless. The two of them lugged around what they could carry from their findings, and found themselves contently energized as they moved onward. This therefore, would not excuse Carl's graduating frustration.
Carl stopped in his tracks and turned to face Eileen with a scary expression. He quietly explained: "My Dad would not stop searching for me. He knows what bit I was in, and he probably would have dragged everyone there. Then he probably thought I went ahead without him, because I didn't return when I was supposed to, so he probably went onward like we did."
"...right?" This is hopeless, we're probably not going to find his Dad. He should have just gone to where his group were staying, the moron.
"So we need to keep going!"
"Are you sure? Maybe we've come too far ahead-"
"SHUT UP!" The boy cried, every other breath penetrated by a choking noise in the back of his throat. "IT'S MY DAD- I...I know what I am doing. He's out here searching for me...I can feel it,"
She crossed her arms. "That's ridiculous. How can you feel someone looking for you? It's unscientific."
He was taken aback, overcome with rage. "WELL HE'S MY DAD, SO EVEN IF I DIDN'T KNOW, IT'S PRETTY LIKELY THAT HE AND OUR MASSIVE GROUP ARE DOING THEIR BEST TO COME AND GET ME! I'M SURE YOUR PARENTS WOULD DO THEY SAME!"
"...I-" Eileen stood back, struck silent. Are they searching for me? Unlikely. If I hadn't left them myself they probably would have banished me from their presence. They'd have a well-reasoned argument for doing so too. "-I don't know if they would Carl. They'd probably think I was dead if they hadn't found me for over a week." She replied with a solemn look about her, and as she walked off she held her chin high and made to take over the front. A moment later, a pensive breath elicited from Eileen's thin lips.
Behind her, Carl also shut himself up. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I don't exactly know her parents. And I know zilch about what my group think has happened to me. Maybe she should just- ah, I don't know. She's right, they do probably think I am dead, but I stand by what I think. I KNOW that they are looking for me. It's just the kind of thing my group does. I should apologize, shouldn't I?
"Hey!" he said. "I'm sorry about that...I am just positive my Dad's looking for me, and I'll find him."
"Just forget it, it's fine." She bent down and began to construct a small trap again. "I think we should use that little hut over there for now," Eileen pointed at quaint little building. "I'm going to set up this and wait for a while. We need more meat in our lives. A vole three days ago isn't going to keep us alive."
They settled into the small structure very quickly, as there was very little inside of it. It was very hard to determine exactly what it was used for.
"Carl, I think we should have just stayed put. It was silly of us to move."
He thought about this. Frankly, it was right, but far too late to back track. Every time she heartless said things like this to inform him how unlikely it would be to find his group, it made his blood boil. He said nothing for a short while.
"My Mom is dead, Eileen." He sat himself down. "She died in childbirth; that is how my sister is alive. We had no anesthetics."
She pictured the ghastly and revolting sight of a woman giving birth: she envisaged a thin woman, short, with Carl's dark hair and rounded face like his own. The details of the woman did not matter though. The profound details of her shrill screams of silenced terror and blood pumped from her were what stuck to her mind. It was shocking to hear- unbelievable in fact- and terrifying. Eileen stared at Carl, wide-eyed unable to even comment.
"I had to shoot her to put her down. She told me to. She told me to shoot her. And we had to cut her open and take the baby out. She told me how much she loved me, and just hugged me before I shot at her head. I was ruthless, and I'll never recover from that."
"Carl..." She reached over hesitantly and placed a cold, trembling hand on his shoulder.
"I was a monster back then. I killed some kid just because he had a gun- I mean, HE PUT THE GUN DOWN FOR GOD'S SAKE!" He yelled. "I'LL NEVER RECOVER FROM THAT. WHAT ABOUT JUDITH, HUH? HER LIFE'S SCREWED. SHE WON'T HAVE EVEN KNOWN WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE NORMAL: KILLING PEOPLE WILL BE HER LIFE!" Streams of noiseless tears poured from his eyes. "AND I'M STILL A KID, AND I CAN'T FIND MY DAD! OR MICHONNE, OR DARYL OR ANYONE!" He pushed her hand forcefully away from him, her body losing balance and toppling to the side. Her wrist, now felt bruised and ached ever so slightly.
"Ouch..." she whispered, rubbing her wrist in hope of treating the pain. "You think I am stone cold and don't know how you feel but hear this, you have severely misjudged what I have also been through. Remember when I said I had siblings?" He nodded, curious to hear what she had to say. "Things got dark for my older sister Orla. She was hungry and she lost control. It's because of her that I have had to do monstrous things I don't even want to think about. But emotion is weakness so that's why I pretend I don't care. It made me realize that being with others is dangerous. Only trust yourself...and even that should be done lightly."
"What happened?"
Eileen did not feel ready to explain, yet she knew that it had taken all of Carl's energy to sit there and retell his mother's demise. It would only be fair for her to explain at least some of what happened.
"It was two years ago. I was with my...my parents...and we were shut up inside a business office or something. My older sister Orla, younger brother Bruce and I were left in there with some weapons while my absolutely useless parents risked their lives for us- Now, you have to understand that they were good people, just- j-just...er...difficult parents. They left us to find food that they knew was never going to be there. I knew it was never going to be there, but as their least prioritized thirteen year old child, they refused to listen to me, and they went anyway. They hadn't returned for ages. By then it got dark. My siblings and I had a weird relationship anyway, so I didn't really know much about them. I had to awkwardly take care of Bruce who was wailing as loudly as he could for some moronic reason. On the other hand, Orla was going insane. She was left in charge. Most of the food we had went to Bruce- he was the weakest of us, and was never very good at running. But Orla...she had a thick knife, and a thick hunger. And when I left the room for a moment... I heard a noise. I came back and found my brother lying dead with a mental looking Orla sneering and laughing like an animal. The knife went straight through his frail skin. My guess is that she wanted a larger cut of the rice and beans...either way, I shot her. She wasn't meant to make it, and she would've slaughtered us all if I hadn't done it."
"I'm sorry to hear-"
"-I'm not. I don't expect you to look at me the same way when I say this; I don't regret it because she was my blood. I only regretted it because it was the first undead person I killed. She deserved it. And I had to put my brother and her down."
He looked at her with understanding. I don't think of you differently. I think of you as more traumatized than I had first expected, but not differently as a whole person. "What about your parents?"
She scoffed. "They...weren't impressed with my 'murderous rampage', as they described it. I've already told you more than I wanted to. So stop crying, you're practically on good terms with a serial killer- that doesn't happen everyday," she laughed.
"You're not a serial killer."
She continued to smile. "I know that. But Mom and Dad couldn't understand what happened. I don't want to talk about it anymore...it makes me mad."
And so she finally speaks up about her past. She's still a bit shifty about her parents, but her eyes illustrated just how remorseful she felt towards what had happened; it would be cruel to get her to say more at this present time.
"I'm going...I'll check on the trap- I'll come back as soon as possible." She scurried off, trying to put the memories out of her mind. It had only been over a week and now she was with another person, reliving her past, and running about with the least amount of consideration she'd ever had. In her mind, she knew she was defying her own morals and vows and this annoyed her deeply, but in her heart, she was aware she just saved Carl from hurting her and doing something he might regret out of anger.
In the days spent travelling without meeting their objective, Judith was growing at an intense rate. She could walk alone now, but often complained in gargled versions of words. No singular member of the group could understand everything she was saying, and Rick felt guilty that he could not carry her: he was just too weak. Not just physically- he had no such as fining Carl and the group spent most of their time smashing skulls to even find evidence of his whereabouts.
Then of course, they still had Eugene. He wanted to kill him inside. Conversely, his brain had chosen otherwise. He agreed with Daryl that they should drop him off somewhere. But where? Eugene was arguably the smartest of the group in terms of his IQ points, and therefore he offered technical skills that they might need one day. On the emotional side of things, he found himself feelings such strong hatred that it surpassed hatred itself. Apart from occasionally catching the smart-guy in his peripheral vision, Rick Grimes had decided that rather than being literally dead, his was dead to him in a metaphorical sense. Any attempts to apologize were futile and bluntly ignored. He wouldn't talk to him at all. And when they were under attack, Rick pretended he didn't notice any walkers headed for him. He was still a sentient human being and didn't want to kill someone who had grown a part of their group. But Eugene was dead to him, and he would find a way of disposing him whenever he found Carl.
Carl. That was the most important issue. He had woken himself out of the delirious state he was in days before thanks to Michonne and Daryl's help and decided to improve his leadership. Everyone was allowed an opinion of where they wanted to stay, what they wanted say (so long as it didn't oppose tracking Carl down). His small feuds with Abraham were beginning to die down, and while they had spent two years in the same group, Rick finally began to form a bond of tolerance with the ginger man.
The group found themselves lost in an open space: open except for a barn. Daryl had been very enthusiastic and had located the place for them. When they traveled inside, they were surprised to see an engraving written on the wall. In awe, the whole group studied the writings. Rick, holding hands with his daughter, were behind them, and they pushed their way to the front.
Time stood completely still.
Dad (Rick) this is Carl. I hope you're okay. As well as Judith and others. I am still alive and I have supplies, so don't worry. I am trying my best to look for you but if you're reading this and I'm not with you then you know that it hasn't quite happened yet. I saw a house a while back with some toys and supplies for Judith in. Please make sure you put Judith first.
The untidy scrawl described something that had uplifted Rick's soul like nothing had ever done before. His grin was exceeding the length of his face, and his cries of joys were music to everyone else's ears.
Tara pointedly looked at Noah. "I told you so," she mouthed. He stood there, astounded, also grinning as the whole group talked excitedly to each other about their new discovery.
Rick gleefully picked his daughter up and swung her around, her giggles the most beautiful sound he had heard yet. She was confused as to what was going on.
"Daddy? Wha's tha'?"
"That, Judy, is a your big brother telling us he's okay," he smiled.
"Car?"
He laughed. "Yes, Judy- Carl."
Daryl and Michonne came over to his side, Rick's grin not for one moment disappearing from his face.
"You proud of your son, Rick? The kid must've learnt from the best!" Daryl spoke.
"Thanks, man."
Daryl cracked a large grin himself. "Nah man, not you. I was talkin' 'bout me!"
"You can relax now, Rick." Michonne placed a hand on his back, another cupping Judith's cheeks. "He's made it this far. And alone too!"
Abraham, with a small flask over alcohol he had found, threw it up in the air and boomed: "TO CARL: KILLER KID!" Everyone cheered with excitement while Daryl studied the barn floor away from the crowd.
"And to think you doubted it!" Tara retorted.
Daryl observed dried mud that was scattered generously in shoe-shaped tread marks. Having spent years with the child, he was able to understand his foot prints fairly well, and he was equally excited about the new development.
Until he noticed a different set of smaller foot prints occasionally popping up next to Carl's.
"Guys," Daryl shouted. "I don't think Carl's alone. Look!"
Maggie and Glenn ran over, and their smiles faltered. "Oh God," Glenn shook his head.
Daryl tried to analyze the prints. "Now, they're smaller. Probably size four or five maximum. Definitely boots. And there's one for every five or so of Carl's, if they are his. Whoever it is, they're probably weaker than him, and it looks like Carl might have the upper hand if they are a threat. That, or they are just left over's from those old blood stains in the far corner there. The blood's too dried up to be this recent."
"So, he's got company?"
"Maybe," Daryl said.
"Good God!" Carol sighed. "Is this kid ever gonna get a break?"
"He doesn't need a break." Rick stated. "He needs his father, and he needs to hope that if he is with someone, they're not dangerous."
Carl had waited an hour an entire hour for Eileen and she had yet to return. He was sitting down waiting impatiently when the wall behind him was greeted with a large impact, the contact enough to make Carl fall forward and lean over hurriedly for his gun, his knife already at hand. Without any hesitation, he swung open the door to the small building and held out his weapons ready for attack. It struck him that perhaps Eileen was mucking about in a half-hearted, friendly way, but as he raced forward to get a better view of the structure in it surroundings, his knees began to wobble.
Hundreds and hundreds of walkers were scratching at the building or wobbling over to him. The accumulated smell was strong enough to nearly knock him out. He had other priorities.
Oh my God. What am I supposed to do? I haven't got a clue where Eileen went. She said she went to check on the trap but she was a bit stressed, maybe she went elsewhere. I can't ditch her. I don't wanna shoot and scare her either .
"EILEEN!" It was the loudest thing he had ever shouted, his voice turning raspy and high pitched. He ran to where he thought he might find her, looking back every few seconds at the few that were gaining on him. He tried one area of the forest, screaming for Eileen, but she didn't appear.
What do I do? If I shoot now I don't have more ammo when I run out, because she took her sacred bag with her. I can't knife them as it gives the rest of them an advantage. If I can't find her in quick enough, I'm going to have to leave. What if she's already done that and left me?
Carl tried a different direction running through more trees, not for the first time in his post-apocalypse life, when they started to appear from behind trees. When he realized he was at a fair distance from others, he used his knife to put down the closest ones.
"EILEEN!" he tried once more, racking his brain for where they had put the trap.
There was a rustling, which he assumed was just another walker, as he stared at the empty trap unaccompanied by Eileen. Behind him, a walker was so close its manky breath leaked onto his neck making his hairs stand on end, and before he could turn around and finish him off, Eileen stood there blood stained removing her knife from the walkers skull. He had never seen the girl so terrified: it was as if she had never been in such a terrible situation before, but for the first time in their week together, she was showing an emotion in the face of danger.
"We gotta run," Carl said, pushing her forward at break-neck speed. She obliged and the two of them were running together.
"I figured that out myself, moron,"
"Don't argue now, we haven't got time."
"Should we use the guns?"
"..." He thought about it. Deciding they were at a fair enough distance, he studied the hundreds of the hungry undead approaching. "They've got your ammo in them, it's up to you, you wanted to make decisions."
"I wasn't hoping to make these kinds of decisions, Carl!" she mumbled, her voice filled with regret. Huh. She used my name for once. It appeared she had made her decision when she held her gun up and just about hit some of their heads. Some were great hits and others were just lucky. "I still say we keep running, Carl. We don't wanna lose all of the ammo!"
"Agreed. Go!"
It took ages before they had outrun the majority of them. They look it upon themselves to have a walk for a while, just not a leisurely one. Both of them were on edge. They were on a mission to find a father that they both knew they were unlikely to find; they were scared they were going to be that close to death again; they were scared they wouldn't find shelter; and they were worried about where their relationship was. Once again, they'd saved each other's lives.
"Thanks for that, back there. I called for you." Carl explained, wiping his sweaty forehead. Still recovering from the anaerobic respiration, his inhaling and exhaling was loud. She was the same. "You could have shouted to me or something."
She glared. "I was preoccupied. There was a rabbit in the trap that I was dealing with when I was attacked. I didn't want us to go hungry-"
"You can't risk your life for something like that."
"-I know, I shouldn't have done that. It's not something I usually do. But...if we're supposed to be partners, I didn't want you to have to starve. Besides, there was only about two coming up to me. I've been in worse situations than two very weak zombies trying to get to me."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's been four years. That's enough time for me to nearly die hundreds of times."
He looked at her with gratitude. "Well thanks for the rabbit, we'll eat it later. Just- just don't do that again."
"I've been alone now for two years, I can handle things myself."
"Eileen," he groaned. She's going to argue again. I was just trying to be nice to her. "You're allowed to want to have help-"
"-I don't need it though."
"Yes, but you shouldn't want to be alone all the time. It's not good for you-"
She came close to his face, a fearsome look in her eyes. "Just because I saved you doesn't make us friends- I keep telling you this. You're not one hundred percent dislike-able, Grimes, I'll give you that. But don't expect to have such privileges as telling me what I should feel or what I should tell you because that's not how this works. I've been alone for a reason. You just happen to be an exception to my rule, for reasons that I cannot understand as of yet."
Between them, they stared at each other. The silence was eerie. It was then that through eye-contact, they mutually agreed on one thing: Carl and Eileen's relationship was extremely complicated.
Thanks for taking the time to read my story.
Many Oranges :)
