Chapter 21: Whiplash
Carl was being chased.
He couldn't see (he couldn't see!) the dead closing in on him, but there was no mistaking their presence. Safety was just up ahead but his legs… there was something wrong with his legs. They were weak, heavy. Useless like his missing eyes.
Surrounded by darkness, Carl dropped to his hands and knees. If he couldn't run, he'd might as well crawl. Only, that didn't seem work, either. There was no getting away, no matter how desperately he clawed at the ground. Helpless and blind, he waited. All the while, the walkers' rumbling cries went on and on…
"Should I wake him up?" a voice said. It sounded a lot like Enid. "I should probably wake him up."
"Mrrrph," Carl let out, stirring. The walkers disappeared but the noise remained; the dream faded to the back of his mind, leaving behind the van's engine familiar rumble. He pressed the side of his face more firmly to his warm pillow and just about managed to slur, "Are we there yet?"
"No," said Enid's laughing voice. "We've only been driving for, like, an hour."
"Oh," said Carl, who suddenly realized that his pillow was actually Enid's lap. Which he'd kind of drooled on. A bit. "Um, sorry," he said, pulling himself upright.
The two of them had been sitting side by side, using the back of the front seats as backrests. Somehow, he'd fallen asleep, fallen sideways, and ended up with his head in Enid's lap. It had been a crappy sleeping position judging by the newly formed crick in his neck. Wincing, he rubbed at the sore muscle.
"No problem," said Enid, rubbing at her thigh to chase away pins and needles. "Jeez, you dropped like a rock."
"Yeah," Carl said through a barely stifled yawn. He looked down at the cause of his exhaustion, finding Judith dead to the world.
Unusually, she hadn't moved an inch while Carl had slept; still flat on her back on top of a bunch of old blankets, mouth gaping a little. Her chest was rising and falling with every deep breath. The van's steady rumbling had managed to lull her back to sleep just as soon as they'd gotten back on the road. He'd laid her down between himself and the wall, so that she would wake up with him right beside her. It had been still kind of dark back then - he only now spotted the dry tear tracks on her face.
Judith looked so peaceful now. Earlier that morning, she'd been anything but.
They'd spent the night camping out in an abandoned motel's parking lot, protected by a sturdy barrier and Castiel's ever vigilant watch. Judith's sudden screaming had sent Carl scrambling to his feet, knife clutched tightly in hand. He remembered how his heart had hammered, looking around wildly for whatever it was that had gotten the drop on them.
It hadn't been anything he could've killed with a blade. Only nightmares.
Of course, Judith's crying fit had managed to call for every walker in the area. Soon, they were clawing at the barricade, gnarled hands grasping uselessly through the cracks. All the while, Judith's crying went on and on, and none of Carl's usual tricks seemed to help at all.
"She's frightened," Castiel explained sympathetically, hand dropping to his side. His own tricks worked just as well as Carl's. "In her dream, she was left alone. She, well," he hesitated, "I believe she fears abandonment?"
In the end, she'd simply worn herself out. Carl too, apparently.
Carl sighed, tucking the blanket a little more securely around her. "I guess she still has some catching up to do," he said. Looking at the little cramped space that made for the back of the van, he found that she wasn't the only one.
Mikey was dozing lightly, head bouncing against the wall at every bump in the road. Jake's feet were propped next to Mikey's head, their owner somehow finding the space to lie down. Jake's eyes were closed but Carl didn't think he was asleep, not from the way he was squirming and sighing every so often.
"Dude, stop moving so much," Scott said, jabbing his pencil in Jake's ribs. At some point along their journey, Scott had gotten his hands on a sketchbook, one that he'd been filling rather diligently. Mostly with sketches of eyes, because he didn't seem to know how to draw anything else.
"Yeah," Oliver's squeaky voice rose in support. The young boy squirmed under Scott's arm to peer at the page critically. "Now it isn't proportional," he decided, saying the last word carefully and with conviction.
"What?" Scott said, squinting down at the drawing. He squeezed Oliver. "Yes it is. Shut up."
Oliver squeaked. "You should draw Carl next!" he said excitedly, still struggling to get away from under Scott's arm. "Then you won't have to draw the other eye!"
"Oh, wow. Thanks, kid," Carl said, ignoring Jake who proved himself awake by laughing. "Where the hell are we anyway?" Carl craned his neck around (remembering, too late, about his cramp). He had his back to Claire in the driver's seat, so when he looked up, he could see a little past Castiel's profile in the passenger side. It was early yet, but the sun had risen while he'd slept, giving way to clear blue skies.
Castiel, who was sitting shotgun and therefore in charge of navigation, didn't respond until Claire reached out and poked him in the shoulder. "Um," he said, map crinkling in his hands.
Claire answered instead. "Just passed a little town called, get this, Pow Pow Pow." She let out a little snort. "If you can call two houses and church a town. Which you can, apparently." She poked Castiel in the shoulder again.
"It's funny because of the repetition," Castiel supplied in response to the unspoken prompt.
"Ah, close enough," said Claire, chuckling. Then she asked, "Where's your head today, Cas?"
"Which one?" asked Castiel, distractedly. "Take the next turn."
"Okay…" said Claire. The van made a sharp turn. "That's gonna take us off-course. Again. Is there something out there?"
"I don't like this neighborhood," Castiel said plainly. He seemed to relax a little, though.
"We're not near the DC area yet, are we?" Carl asked.
Jake snorted. "Not for a while. Don't forget, we gotta go around Sanctuary, too." Unlike his sibling, Jake was tall and broad shouldered, and always seemed to take too much space. He nearly kicked Mikey in the face when he pulled himself into a sitting position. "This tin can is gonna end up killing me."
"Awesome," Scott grumbled, "more legroom for the rest of us."
"What, you think I won't take you down with me?" Jake shot back before smacking the sketchbook out of Scott's hands.
It ended up hitting Mikey in the face. He startled awake with a snort, looking around wildly. Then, finding the projectile in his own lap, picked up the sketchbook and hurled it back at its owner.
Scott ducked behind his arms ("it wasn't me!") while Oliver scuttled closer to Carl and Enid, narrowly avoiding stepping on the sleeping Judith.
"Watch it," Carl warned, pushing the boy to Enid's side.
"Boys." Castiel turned around in his seat, looking so disappointed that even Carl felt his face lit up with shame. The effect was promptly ruined when Castiel added, "Can you not?" Which was such a Claire thing to say that the rest of them couldn't help cracking up.
"Oh yeah, you told them," Claire snickered in the face of Castiel's exasperation. "Carl," she called, "can't you make them behave back there?"
"What, taking care of one toddler isn't enough?"
"Hey," Jake protested, feebly. After a moment, he seemed to perk up again. "Cas, can I ask you something? Like a... theological question?"
"This should be good," Enid muttered in Carl's ear.
Jake continued, "What's the deal with circumcision, anyway?"
"I was right," Enid said, voice coming muffled from covering her mouth with her hands. She couldn't see Castiel from where she was sitting, though. He looked almost embarrassed, which definitely piqued Carl's curiosity.
Claire was having none of it, though. "Seriously?" she choked, incredulous. "Of all the things… out of everything you could possibly…" She huffed. "And you're asking about your dick?"
Quietly, the freshly woken Mikey chimed in with, "Um, actually. It's a fair question."
Castiel, for his part, just shifted in his seat. "Technically, circumcision was a human practice since before the, um, covenant. And as far as I understand, it's not always done for religious purposes."
"Covenant?" Enid asked, curious despite her second-hand embarrassment.
"It's from the Bible," Claire said, sighing. "God got Abraham to, like, sign off their new religion by, you know-" she lifted one hand to make a snip-snip motion with her fingers. "Just the tip."
"Well…" Castiel said, sounding remarkably embarrassed. "That's not quite right. God never spoke with Abraham. It was, um, Gabriel, actually. He liked to, uh, 'mess' with his charges." Castiel winced. "In all fairness, none of us thought Abraham would actually do it. We didn't realize at the time that it would jump-start the Abrahamic religions."
When no one said anything, Castiel cleared his throat, adding, "In retrospect, I suppose that as far as pranks go... it got a bit out of hand?"
The silence lasted for several moments until Claire said, with conviction, "You guys are such dicks."
"It's been said, yes."
Once again, Carl found himself caught between awe and amusement. "I can't wait to tell Gabriel," he blurted. "The priest back at home, not the-" he pointed up, blushing.
"Archangel?" Castiel said in response. "Well, you could try, but he's dead."
"Oh."
"I think you made him sad," Enid whispered.
"I didn't know," he whispered back. "I was just making conversation."
"You guys can die?" Mikey asked, wide eyed.
"Oh, wow," Claire cut in, impatiently. "I changed my mind. Go back to talking about dicks."
"Of course," Castiel said. "Everything can die - some beings even get to have an afterlife."
"What's that really like?" Carl found himself asking. "If I can ask, I mean-" he glanced at the others, who grew still. They've all lost people. "Is my mom, you know, happy?"
Castiel turned in his seat, facing them once more. "She should be," he told Carl. "If her soul did ascend-" he paused to glance at Claire who had suddenly shoved at his shoulder- "I mean, yes. You mother would find it very difficult to be unhappy. Heaven resonates with souls individually. For example, one of Sam and Dean's friend's choice of Heaven had been to crack the system itself." He let out a little huff of amusement before continuing, "Once a soul goes through Initiation-"
"Through what?" Enid interrupted.
"Initiation. Each soul spends some time reliving their most cherished moments," Castiel explained, matter-of-factly. "After that, it depends on the individual."
"And, the, uh, the souls, can they see us? I mean, my mom, is she… is she looking down on me and Judith?" Suddenly, after all the crap that Carl had done, that seemed very important.
Castiel inclined his head. "Well, that depends. Initiation may take minutes, or it may take centuries. Then, your mother would have to want to know where she really is. And she would need to put in an official request." He grimaced. "I've been told by the angels in Human Resources that there's quite a lot of paperwork involved-"
"Um, wait," said Enid. "Human Resources? Heaven's got paperwork?"
"...Figuratively?" Castiel paused. "I really shouldn't be telling you all of this." He sighed, looking away from them. "In truth, your time here, short as it may be, is worth tenfold the eons you will spend in Heaven. It's a pale reward for those who-" he cut himself off, sighing again. "I hope you won't get to see it, not for many years to come."
They drove in silence for a short time. Then Carl spoke up, finding another burst of courage, "What about the other place?"
"I don't recommend it," Castiel said, immediately. "It smells. And the current king of Hell is insufferable."
"No vacationing in hell, got it," Carl muttered, exchanging another bemused look with Enid.
Carl turned around to stand on his knees, gripping the shoulders of the front seats for balance. There was no partition between the front and the back, making it possible for Carl to see that they were heading down a vaguely familiar road. Vaguely familiar because it looked like everywhere else these days - bumpy cement, unkempt greenery, dead bodies. It was nowhere he recognized.
They were approaching a long, curving overpass. "What do you think," Carl asked, taking in the scenery, "can we reach Alexandria today?"
Claire glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Fewer walkers around, roads are not as crowded anymore… we might just make it." Somehow, she didn't seem very thrilled about it. A little too late, Carl remembered that getting to Alexandria also meant splitting ways.
"That's cool," said Carl, tentatively. He pushed at Claire's shoulder lightly. "You said walkers. We're rubbing off on you."
She shrugged.
"Hey, you know what this whole drive's been like?" He paused for effect. "A real trip."
Claire groaned. "Please, stop." But he caught her smiling, just a little.
Carl grinned. "I've got more. Do you know what a ham sandwich, a jellyfish, and a bus driver all have in common? It's-"
"Look out!" Claire called out, hitting the brakes.
Carl felt himself getting thrown forward. Claire yelled something else that he couldn't make out over the sound of the tires screeching. Then, he heard a crack, almost like multiple gunshots going off at the same time. Later, Carl would understand that it had been the sound of their tires ripping, all thanks to the spikes strewn just past the curve in the road.
For a few precious seconds, Carl fought against the momentum, scrabbling to get his hands under his body. He wanted to lift himself up from the horizontal position he had found himself in, upper body squished between the front seats while his lower body dangled in the air. He felt the van swerving out of control, felt someone clinging to his legs.
Carl barely managed to raise his head when a weight settled over his back and a hand came down on the back of his neck, bracing. "Let go!" he gasped.
Right above Carl's head, Castiel called out a warning. There was another crack, almost like thunder, complete with a burning light and a suddenly overwhelming smell of rain.
Carl must've blacked out then. He remembered, vaguely, the impact when they'd hit the guardrails at the side of the road. He remembered his stomach rolling with anxiety when they hadn't stopped, soaring past the edge of the overpass. He remembered the momentum shifting, the swan dive to the ground. But he had felt none of it.
Then the light died out and Carl found himself on his back. He opened his eye, seeing Claire's stricken face staring down at him. She was hanging upside down from her seat belt, long blonde braid swaying lazily under her head.
"You okay?" Her voice trembled.
"The fuck just happened?" Jake gasped out, somewhere by Carl's feet.
"We crashed," Enid replied. Carl could see the top of her head in his line of sight. "Is everyone-"
"Yes," said Castiel, a little too sharply.
"We're upside down," Carl muttered dumbly. His eye was stinging a little and he realized with a jolt that he could smell smoke. And beyond that, the too-sharp scent of the McLaren home brewed gasoline."We should, we should…"
"Easy," said Castiel, who was, all of a sudden, peering down at Carl. "You're unhurt." Castiel looked up, easing back as he did. "Claire, can you release your seat belt?"
Carl remembered, suddenly, her teasing Castiel when he'd insisted she'd wear it.
"Yeah." Claire reached around herself to struggle with the buckle. "Got it," she said, before dropping down to the van's ceiling, managing to align herself after a bit of a fumble. Her knee came dangerously close to hitting Carl in the face. "Cas?" she asked, looking worried.
"I'm fine," Castiel said. "Help the others."
Carl took a deep breath. "I'm okay," he said, sitting up slowly, aided by Claire pulling on his arm. He winced at the expectation of pain - but none came. None except for that cramped neck he'd gotten earlier. "Really, I'm okay," he told Claire, a little dazed.
Then, he felt himself go cold. "Where's-" he said sharply, eye darting from one stunned face to the next.
Enid's hair was hanging wild around her face, and she was holding on to little Oliver, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. Jake, Scott and Mikey were sitting up, wearing identical expressions of alarm. Miraculously, everybody looked to be okay, if a little shaken. But none of that mattered, because he couldn't find his sister.
Then he spotted her, squished between the wall and Jake's large backpack. For a moment, she seemed just as stunned as he was. She stared at Carl with wide blue eyes, mouth hanging open. Suddenly, her face scrunched up and she started to cry.
Scott made as if to reach out to her. Carl shoved him out of the way. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Carl said through the lump in his throat. "Shh, it's okay, I got you."
He didn't pick her up, despite her reaching out to him. Rather, he started to run his hands over her, trying to see if she'd been hurt. Judith was having none of that, crawling into his lap on her own. "What happened?" he asked, face pressed to her blonde head.
"Trap," Castiel said simply, letting out a ragged breath.
"Guys," Claire said in alarm. "We need to get out of here. Now."
Carl looked up. The windshield had been cracked, but there was no mistaking the black smoke that was coming from under the van's smashed hood. It was becoming thicker by the second, and already seeping inside the vehicle, stinging their eyes and throats.
The back doors wouldn't open until Jake gave them a few solid kicks. They took in the clean air greedily. As he stepped out, Judith clutched tightly to his chest, Carl's foot landed in an oily puddle. It was coming from underneath the upturned vehicle, where their supplies - food, gas canisters - had been strapped to the roof.
"Move," Carl told the others, bodily shoving Mikey forward. He looked back to see Claire and Castiel getting out of the front cabin. Only Castiel wasn't doing so well: he was leaning heavily on Claire, looking dangerously close to collapsing.
"Jake!" Carl called, not stopping, because he still needed to carry Judith away from the smoke and the inevitable fire. "Something's wrong with Cas!"
They managed to get to what seemed like a safe distance. The overpass curved above several underpasses that looked like they had been tunneled right through the ground. The one they had found themselves in was a rather narrow road, bracketed on both sides by natural rock. There was nowhere to go but farther up the road.
Carl glanced back just in time to see the van catching fire. It spread quickly, flames engulfing the entire vehicle in a matter of seconds, aided by the gas spill.
"Oh, man," Carl breathed. As one, the group came to a stop, watching their ride home literally going up in flames. Even Judith stopped crying, mesmerized by the sight.
"Cas," said Claire urgently. "What's wrong?"
"It's fine," Castiel said, voice rougher than usual. "Just… give me a moment." He pulled away from Jake and Claire to sink down to his hands and knees, head sagging between his shoulders.
"You look like you're gonna hurl," Carl pointed out, helplessly caught between wanting to help his friend and wanting to comfort his terrified little sister. She wasn't crying anymore, but letting out little hiccuping breaths, body trembling. "What happened?" Carl asked.
How is it that we're okay and you're not? went without saying.
Castiel let out a ragged sigh. "Power surge. I used my wings to protect you from the crash." His head lifted. Carl was startled to see that his nose was now bleeding. "I, ugh, I seem to have misjudged the amount of power needed for a-" he gasped, then gritted out the rest of the sentence- "partial manifestation in this plane."
There was a pause. "No dexterity?" Enid asked softly, although Carl wasn't sure why.
Castiel gave her a tired, crooked smile. "No dexterity."
"Well, don't do it again!" Claire said roughly, hitting Castiel lightly in the shoulder. Worryingly, he swayed.
"Maybe try not to crash the car next time, then?" Jake snapped at her.
"She didn't," Carl remembered. Somehow, in the rush to get away from the van, he'd forgotten. "You said it was a trap? But where-"
"Guys," Mikey called out, pointing in the direction they came from. It was hard to see through the black smoke, but there were people coming up from behind them. A lot of people. And Carl doubted these ones were friendly.
A few were standing on the overpass, examining the crash site from above. Most of them, though, were stalking toward the smoldering wreckage with their guns drawn. The fire and smoke made a good distraction, but it wouldn't take long for these guys to realize that Carl and the others had gotten out.
"I see them. Don't think they spotted us yet," Jake grunted. He'd managed to grab his crowbar from the van. Moving it back to the crook of his arm, Jake used his considerable strength to haul Castiel back to his feet. "Cas, c'mon, man," he said, pulling Castiel's arm over his shoulder. "We gotta go - now."
They didn't get very far. "Nobody move!"
Carl looked up. There was a big man standing on the elevated ground that was the side of the road. A big man, holding a very big gun, and pointing it right at them. He let out a shrill whistle. "They're over here!" he called out, not taking his eyes off his targets. To them he said, "Hands where I can see 'em."
"How?" Carl couldn't help saying, arms tightening around Judith.
"Don't get clever with me, kid," the stranger said, smirk half hidden under his bushy reddish beard. The barrel of his rifle shifted slightly, lining up so it was pointed directing at Carl and Judith. "I promise you won't like it."
The other men (and they were only men, Carl noticed) emerged through the smoke. Like the bearded asshole who'd caught them, they weren't shy about where they were pointing their guns.
"Ah shit," one of the newcomers said, spitting on the ground. "I hate it when they have kids." He didn't lower his weapon.
"What did I tell you, Walt?" the bearded man said, dropping down to the underpass. It was a fairly long jump, but he seemed practiced, landing on bent knees. "I told you: fix the goddamn guardrails, why don't you?"
"Anyone you know?" Mikey muttered in Jake's direction.
It was Scott who answered. "Not the Saviors' MO."
One too many time that day, Carl felt his stomach drop. "Did you just say-"
"Shut the hell up," another one of the newcomers barked. He was a tall, rat faced man who seemed to blink practically non stop. He made a vague gesture with his handgun. "Let's see what you've got on you."
"Everything we had went up in flames. Thanks to you, assholes," Claire pointed out. Her hands were clenched at her sides.
"That is enough," Castiel said, shaking off Jake's support. He seemed a little better - two seconds ago he couldn't even stand on his own - but there was no mistaking the effort it took for him to take those few steps forward. "We have no firearms," Castiel said, gesturing behind him. "We have no resources for you to rob anymore. Lay down your arms."
Carl might've imagined it, but did Castiel look relieved to have all the guns draw on him alone?
There was no way he could take all of them, Carl thought desperately. Castiel looked like a stiff gust of wind could knock him down. A few of the newcomers exchanged nervous glances nonetheless. Carl didn't blame them - who would want to be caught at the end of that stare?
"You're kidding me, right?" The bearded man let out a little chuckle. He called over his shoulder, "Take the girls," and then, calmly, shot Castiel in the chest.
Carl gasped. Judith jerked in arms, letting out a terrified wail.
"No!" Claire cried, silver blade falling to her hand.
But Castiel, who merely staggered, lifted a hand to stop her advancing. He straightened, looking no worse than before.
"Shit." the bearded man's face turned blotchy. He hissed, taking a few steps back. Without taking his eyes off of Castiel, he called out, "Anyone got any fucking silvers?"
"Those won't help you," Castiel said calmly, slowly advancing on the group. Two more men took shots at him, managing to hit him several times in the upper body. This time, he didn't even flinch.
"You should go," Carl advised calmly, feeling anything but.
For a moment it seemed like the newcomers would do just that. "Nobody move!" the bearded man yelled. Carefully, he took aim.
Castiel froze.
"Not silver, huh?" the man said, teeth bared in a snarl. He was looking at Castiel but pointing his gun right past him.
"Just go," Carl repeated quietly.
"No chance in hell, kid." the man's mouth twisted in a smirk, eyes still fixed on Castiel. "Not until I figure out what you are."
"I'll show you," Castiel said, voice deceptively calm. "Let them go."
Save for a few, the other men looked like they were ready to bolt. "Maybe we should…" one of them, the rat faced man, started to say.
"No!" the bearded man snapped, spittle flying. "And you, boys and girls, get over here." When they didn't immediately obey, he growled, "Move. Now," and fired a warning shot at their feet.
It all happened very fast.
The bullet hit the gravel by Carl's feet. Somehow he staggered back, still having felt the impact. Ricochet, he realized. There was no pain. No until he looked down and saw nothing but red.
"Judith?" he whispered at the suddenly listless weight in his arms.
Somewhere far away, and somehow all around him, chaos erupted. From the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel grabbing the bearded man by the face. His skull gave away with a sickening crunch. People yelled, screamed, cursed. More bullets got fired.
None of it mattered. Not while Judith's blue eyes stared so blankly, face somehow still untouched by all the blood.
Carl sank to his knees. "Please," he said through his tears, shaking the small body again and again. "Please, no, no."
And then Castiel was there. He knelt down next to them, laying a bloody hand on Judith's chest. "Close your eyes," he ordered.
Close your eyes, Carl thought to himself, in his own voice and in his own head. Yet, somehow, he knew that the thought hadn't been his own.
All by itself, his eye squeezed itself shut.
A/N: Hi guys, sorry for the unexpected delay. I hope you enjoyed (?!) the chapter. Please feed me back some feedback! xoxo