A long time ago, maybe during my early days at the prison or before, I remember reading something. This something caught my eyes and made me wonder. Would I ever feel like this? This- was feeling infinite. What is that like? To feel infinite. Everything has an end, that's brutally clear in today's world. But wouldn't it be nice, for a single moment, to feel infinite.
I walk him outside and we round the corner and he stares at me in disbelief, "We are not-"
"We are," I tell him in a sing-song tone
"You're absolutely insane," he shakes his head at me, "How do you know this'll even work?" he's laughing slightly, imagining it. A smile breaks through on my face at his new found eagerness.
I shrug, "It's worth a shot, these things ran on their own generators. If no one has been here since this thing started, then they should ready to go."
I can see it in his eyes, he wants this desperately, "But turning them on, there's noise to contend with, and these things have lights. We'll attract every walker around for miles, not to mention the possibility for any other unwanted attention." He's talking about those men now, the ones that are undoubtedly wanting our heads.
I did account for this, trust me, I did. We had to leave at some point though, right? I mean tonight's just as good as any...
"Then let's get everything ready, I'm sure there's some truck or something with a tank full. We take what we need, pack the truck, have our fun, and when we're done, or the walker count gets a little too high, we split. Plus, we have the fence on our side." This may be the stupidest thing I've ever suggested, but I don't wanna waste this opportunity.
I'm internally struggling, trying to tell myself this is ok and that we won't end up dead because of my stupidity. I can see Carl's conflicted too, he wants this as badly as I do, but he also knows that things don't always go to plan.
"Alright, but we have to make sure everything is ready to go, and we have to find a usable exit, and the moment you over exert your shoulder we're done. Ok?" Carl lays out his terms and I bite my lip, nodding. The last one agitates me, and I want to protest, but he has a point.
"Good?" He confirms, I nod, "Well then come on! And I don't do anything with heights!" He jokes.
We run back inside and begin to pack everything. We put clothes and books in one bag, and fill the other with food and medical supplies. Carl finds a duffel bag, and we fill that up too with whatever we can find. Once we've stripped the place bare, Carl stops me.
His eyes go my shoulder and I let out a displeased groan, but I put down the bag I was carrying and plop onto the ground. He hands me a dosage of pain medication that I haven't been as diligent in taking as I probably should have. I take a swig out of a water bottle and swallow the pills painlessly, I slip my arm out of my flannel shirt and tank top and Carl goes to work on my shoulder.
I sit still, but watch his face out of the corner of my eye as he works. He tips his hat up with the flat of his index finger to get a better look at the wound. His eyes are at first almost dim and nervous, the further he unwraps my wound, the more his expression reflects that of dread. He bites his thin bottom lip and his eyebrows furrow, preparing for the worst. The last of the bandaging falls away and his expression melts to relief and determination. I refuse to look at the wound, trusting him to do what he has to.
He soaks a sterile cotton pad with alcohol and rubs it gingerly on the wound. It burns, but significantly less than it has previously. I still tense up and something deeper forms in Carl's bright blue eyes, something I want to place, something that I've seen before, many a time, but I'm too scared to be wrong. Compassion? I dare to think.
His touch is lighter from then on, and once everything is clean to Carl's satisfaction, he uses some of the bandages we found in the cabinet to wrap my shoulder back up. He helps me work my shirt back on. He helps me to my feet and I grab my bag and he shoulders the extra two, much to my dismay. We check the building over one last time, and I grab a set of keys that are hanging by the door.
We're quick to find the vehicle the keys belong to and are eager to find it not only has a tank with at least 2 gallons of gas, but works! It's parked beside a closed gate that is on the opposite side of where we first found the place. Getaway is already set up. Awesome. We make sure the gate moves quickly enough, and when it does, we load down the truck.
"I just found the flaw in your plan," Carl looks over at me as we pack the pickup truck. It's a Chevy Silverado if I'm not mistaken. It's a two door, and I feel pretty badass, in a southern kind of way, slamming the doors shut.
"What?" I ask
"Have you ever driven before?" he looks at me cautiously. He walks over to my side of the truck and he lifts a concerned eyebrow as he crosses his arms.
Oh. That.
"Nah, can't be that hard though, right?" I shrug indifferently. Psh, I got this.
No you don't.
"'Cause I sure as hell haven't," he looks at me with an expression that blatantly states, 'you are mentally insane'
"I told you. I got this." I reassure him.
No. You. Don't.
"I swear to God, Sam. I'm gonna kill you if we end up dead." he starts off serious, but he ends up laughing when I lift a 'dare you challenge me' eyebrow.
"Yes, Carl, that's extremely productive." I tease, I grab his hand, "Now let's go! I wanna ride the carousel!" I start running, pulling him behind me, but he pulls his own weight before long and I'm having to keep up with him. We run all the way to the carousel and then we check out the controls. I'm not wrong, there is a generator that takes Carl a few pulls to bring the machine to life. Then it's a matter of figuring out how we're gonna get on and start the thing.
"There's a delay switch," Carl says after studying the control board for a few minutes, "We can start it up, and it'll take some time to actually start. Go, get on, I'll be there in a second," he's giddy with excitement, his tone is lighter than usual, and it's a side of Carl I haven't seen before. I think I like it.
I find a horse that's paint is chipping from wear over time, but the saddle is a faded bright blue, my favorite color. Carl fires the ride up, and light's turn on, and the machine creaks as it starts to move. My heart is up in my throat, the noise makes me anxious, but then Carl jumps on the platform that's just beginning to spin and he jumps on the horse next to me. He's seated just as the ride picks up and my heart soars with the movement. The horse creaks up and down, and Carl's next to me and he's smiling like a little kid.
"Looks like the sheriff found himself a horse," I tease over the noise. It's quite possibly the girliest horse there was. The horse itself is a faded pink and there's painted bows on the horse's lavender saddle. Yes, lavender.
He rolls his eyes, "There was no manly option. It's a carousel! It's made for little kids."
That's not what your expression said! I silently taunt back. Instead I just roll my eyes, obviously unconvinced.
The excitement ends when the ride creaks to a stop. I'm surprised that my ears don't immediately pick up the groans of walkers.
"I choose next!" Carl shouts as he hops off the ride to the next one. He shuts off the ride completely and the lights turn off too. I run after him, careful not to move my left arm as I do. No reason to cut short the fun because of the stupidest rule.
He chooses bumper cars and I'm the one that fires up the ride this time. Whimsical lights illuminate the place, however this one starts off quieter, but it wouldn't be any fun if we didn't run into each other. Carl's sitting in the dark blue car and I narrow my eyes at him, because that was the only blue one. I end up picking green, because that's next best.
Once I'm strapped in, Carl drives his car at me full throttle, which sounds menacing, but it's bumper cars, so it's a whole 5 miles an hour. Still the force of the impact throws me back and Carl has a mischievous glint in his eyes. When I recover, blinking the slight shock away, I glare at him.
Oh it's on hot shot. Better hold onto your sheriff hat.
I turn the car around, and make a seeming retreat, only to circle around and ram him from behind. He flashes me a look and then it's on for real. We wheel around slamming into each other over and over. Until the ride shuts down, and then Carl gets up and starts it again. I laugh and it goes on that way for a way for a while.
There's this look of determination on Carl's face, but it's weird because he's laughing too. The air is filled with our laughs, sometimes my squeals if Carl manages to catch me off guard, and of course the sounds of our bumper cars colliding.
The ride wears down for the fourth time and I think we finally decide to move on. We shut it down and the lights fade. It's definitely the most depressing part of the experience. Like we're killing fun.
The moonlight shines brightly overhead now, it's a full moon tonight. The hat casts shadows upon Carl's pale face, and the sleeves of his Henley are pushed up, exposing his forearms that the moonlight shines silver. He's got this permanent grin on his face and his bright blue eyes are as alive as ever.
Next we go through the hall of mirrors. We have to use flashlights though so we can see in the dark. There's one where Carl's hat and head look twice as big as his body, and there's another where I'm taller than him for once.
"Does this mirror make me look fat?" I ask Carl jokingly. I'm facing a mirror that makes me look particularly round
He looks in the mirror and he looks at me, his chin rests in the space between his thumb and index finger, like he's doing some serious thinking, and then finally, he reaches his conclusion, "Yes,"
"Carl!" I protest, not really angered by his statement, but hell I'll give him a hard time anyway.
"You asked a question," he defends, "you wanted me to answer honestly and I did."
"You never call a lady fat," I scold him, pretending to be some school teacher.
"Yes ma'am," he rolls his eyes with a mocking tone in his voice.
We try to find the exit, and let me tell you, it's twice as hard in the mostly dark. Wouldn't this be the place to find a walker. We stop in front of another one and make faces.
"You excel at this," I comment playfully
"What?" he looks over at me.
"You're a natural at making stupid faces," I tease, nudging him with my elbow. That'll get him back for calling me fat!
"Ha ha," he rolls his eyes, then we move on and I take the lead with the flashlight. I turn the corner and I stop dead end. Frustrated, I turn around, but Carl's not there.
"Carl?" I call out cautiously
No answer.
"Carl!" I call more firmly, louder, I work my way back to where we were.
Nothing.
"Carl?!" My heart rate quickens, this isn't funny.
Silence.
I round the corner, looking frantically for him.
"Carl!?" I scream.
Something jerks into either side of my waist. I scream, terrified.
I'm dead, it's a walker. I'm dead. Stupid Carl. If you hadn't been a dumbass and gotten lost.
I turn around and shine my flashlight in the face of my inevitable death. I swallow, surprised, "Goddammit Carl! You scared the frickin' shit outta me!" I smack him in the chest and he laughs.
"Gotcha," he says with a smirk, his eyes are glistening conspiratorially. They clearly read 'I win' and I'm really glad I didn't pull my knife.
"That's not funny!" I protest even though I'm laughing now. I think it's mostly from hysteria.
He rolls his eyes with that stupid smirk on his face, "Come on, scaredy cat! I found the exit," he takes my hand and I wield the flashlight.
We do make it to the exit, and the moonlight greets us. I'm welcome to its natural light and I click off the flashlight, slipping it into my back pocket.
It's my turn to choose, and I know exactly where I'm going. The Tilt-a-whirl.
We arrive and I beam at it excitedly
"Oh come on," Carl groans, "this is more like the Tilt-a-hurl!"
"You picked the last two!" I protest, and he caves. I grin widely, and pull him on. I tell him to stay put and I fire up the ride. This one luckily has a delay too. I slide into the seat next to Carl, and it's clear he was showing some false dislike for the ride before, because he's eager as the ride fires up. It slings us around and we're both laughing and throwing our hands in the air. I look at Carl and his eyes are crinkled at the corners and the years of wear have dropped from his face and he looks like a kid, having the time of his life. He looks his proper age and it's great because it makes my heart happy. The ride tosses us back and forth because neither of us take up very much space, my hip crashes against his, and in an effort to make the collisions less, (or I guess that's an excuse for it) Carl puts his arm around me, pushing me closer, so that our shoulders are touching too. I'm laughing and he's laughing and smiling and in that moment I feel like nothing can stop us. We're young, and we're free. We're infinite.
I'm looking at Carl and something in my gut wakes up the butterflies again. And suddenly, I'm very tempted to do something. But I can't be sure.
The ride slows down and I'm sad, I don't want this to end. I look at Carl to tell him that I'll start the ride back up if he wanted. But I don't get the chance.
He's kissing me. Carl Grimes, 14-almost-15-year-old badass in a sheriff hat, is kissing me. I'm shocked at first and I don't know what to do.
Kiss him back stupid!
So I do.
I know this can't last forever, but I don't care. In that moment, I only know one thing.
We're young, we're free, and we are infinite.