Chapter 13
Birds chirping from a distance echo with the faint sound of the light wind blowing through the trees. The sky seems slightly dim with clouds gradually floating across it. My eyes peer from left to right, observing the area around us. I clutch at Rick's dirt-covered and torn shirt with my right hand as he has his left arm over my shoulders for support. His heavy breathing follows after every other step we take as he drags one of his feet on the dirt trail. Carl is some ten feet ahead of us, not having looked back at us for a long while.
'He hasn't said a word…' I think to myself as I stare at Carl, helping Rick from limping. "Carl, slow down a bit, will ya?"
No answer from him. He continues walking without even turning his head an inch.
"Carl…" Rick calls out in a weak voice. "Slow down…"
Carl just continues to walk, ignoring his father's words. I hear Rick grunt as he stares at Carl with his bruised and bloody eyes.
"Carl, stop!" Rick yells, causing Carl to finally halt but not turn to us. "We need to stay together…We gotta find a place, food, supplies…"
Rick and I halt next to Carl on his left, who is gazing at the ground. We stare at him, leaving a moment of silence between us.
"Hey," Rick says as he places his right hand on Carl's shoulder. "We're gonna be…" Rick pauses mid sentence as Carl gazes up at him under his sheriff hat.
I stare at Carl as he gawks at his father with stern eyes. Rick stays quiet, staring back at his son's hostile glare. Carl then continues to walk ahead, not saying a word. We watch as Carl walks farther and farther ahead of us.
"He's mad at you…" I say as Rick and I begin to walk. "I hope I'm not part of the reason he's upset…"
"No, you're not…" Rick quickly interrupts. "Whatever he's upset about, he'll get over it…"
I gaze down at the ground with an unsure look as I continue to assist Rick with walking.
"We're all upset after what happened with the prison…" Rick says in between breaths. "What we have to do now is stick together and find a way to stay safe."
I look up and then turn my gaze at Rick. His swollen cheeks and bloody mouth make him almost unrecognizable. With that bloody eye, I can't see the blue in his iris. His sweaty curls are strewn over his forehead. I stare at him with a look of sorrow as I bite my lip, fighting back tears.
"How are you feeling?" I ask as I clench my jaw.
"Not so good…" he responds as he stares at the dirt trail. "But I can manage."
I know he can't manage much longer. I've hidden the bullet wound on my right shoulder that I attained at the prison; it's best not to make him worry about me.
We look up ahead and see a small parking lot. Carl is already walking to it and we quicken our pace after him. The lot is in front of what looks like a biker joint. There are a few abandoned motorcycles in the empty lot. I stare at one as we pass it by and immediately think of Daryl.
"I'm sure he's fine," Rick mutters as if reading my mind.
I sigh heavily and nod, forcing a small smile. We catch up to Carl at the entrance of the biker joint. Rick lets go of me and staggers on his own toward the wooden door. He takes out his Colt and slowly swings the door open. Carl and I take our own guns out and stand ready.
"Wait outside," Rick tells Carl. "Okay? Keep watch. Michelle and I will go in."
Carl tilts his head in confusion.
"You keep watch," Carl says, prompting Rick to give him a stern gaze. "You can barely stand. I'm not gonna let you go in there."
"Excuse me?" Rick replies angrily.
"We've done this before," Carl continues. "I'm going to help clear it…You should just let me do it myself…"
I stare at Carl with a look of disbelief. Rick continues to look at him sternly, clearly upset. After a brief moment of silence, Rick finally nods slightly.
"Let's go," he says as he takes a hold of the knob of the second door.
Rick quickly turns the knob and pushes the door open. I let Carl go in first after Rick and follow. Holding our guns up, we scan the dimly lit place. Rick walks into a doorway that leads to the kitchen. Carl heads through another doorway while I keep an eye on him and our area.
"Kitchen's clear," Rick states as he follows behind me.
We follow Carl into a larger room. There, we hear the groans and hisses of a walker. It's standing behind a barrier of chairs, staring at us with its dead, yellow eyes.
"That might be all that's left…" Rick says as he points to the shelf of supplies past the barrier.
Rick begins to walk toward the barrier of chairs and the walkers snarls more and louder.
"I can get it from here," Carl says as he lifts his gun up and aims at the walker.
"No," Rick says. "No, it's weak…we'll draw it out."
Rick turns and walks to a table where an axe is sitting and turns back around to the walker. Carl and I head over to the table and he picks up a sheet of paper that reads Please do what I couldn't with Joe Jr. signed at the bottom. Carl and I look at each other for a moment and then to the floor.
"Stay back," Rick says as he stands ready in front of the barrier.
Carl rolls his eyes and places the paper back on the table. Rick then removes the chairs, allowing the walker to pass through. I stand ready with my gun as Rick moves back, holding the axe. He charges at the walker and rams the axe through its skull. The blow wasn't strong enough to pierce all the way through and the axe is stuck in the walker's skull.
"Damn it!" Rick grunts as he attempts to pull the axe out form the still moving walker.
Carl walks closer to the walker, aiming his gun at it.
"Don't!" Rick orders.
Carl ignores his father and shoots the walker in the head. It collapses on the floor.
"I said not to!" Rick says angrily at Carl.
"You couldn't do it with the axe!" Carl yells.
"I had it! Every bullet counts…We can teach ya that one later…" Rick says sarcastically. "See what you can find…and let's move on," he says as he takes the axe out from the walker's skull.
I stare at Rick as he walks past me out of the room. Carl stares at his father with an angry glare.
"He's just trying to protect us," I say softly to him.
"I can take care of myself," Carl responds as he barges off toward a shelf of food.
I follow him and begin to help him grab some of the food off the shelf.
"Too bad we lost that backpack of ours to the walkers earlier…" I say as I grab a can of soup.
"Yeah…" Carl says and continues to grab items.
I look down at the floor as there's silence between us.
'He's not ready to talk,' I think to myself as I continue to grab more items. "You got everything?"
"Yeah," he replies as he glances down at his armful of food items.
"Good. Let's go see what your dad found," I say as I pat him on the shoulder.
We walk toward the kitchen doorway where Rick is putting items into an empty sack. The small round table in front of him has a few items on top.
"Kitchen wasn't empty after all," Rick says as he fills up a sack. "My haul…You guys?"
Carl and I grab another empty sack and begin to fill it up with more items than what Rick found.
"We win," Carl says a she gazes up at his father with a pensive expression.
I watch as both of them gaze at each other intensely. The tension can almost be felt between them two. Carl hauls his sack of food over his shoulder and heads toward the front door. Rick watches him walk away and then turns his eyes at me. I walk forward with a half-smile and follow after Carl with my gaze down. Rick stares after me as he picks up his sack of food before following. The three of us head out the bike joint, through the parking lot, and walks down the road. Seeing that Rick can walk on his own, I simply walk a few feet beside him. Carl is about ten feet ahead of us again. We continue to follow the road toward train tracks that run perpendicular to us. I keep my eyes at the ground, frequently peering all around us.
"Hey…" I hear Rick whisper to me. "You seem to be awfully quiet."
"Hm? I'm fine. I'm just…thinking," I reply.
"Don't go on and make me worry about you, too."
"I'll be fine," I force a smile at him.
He can see right through my smile and stares at me. I turn my gaze up ahead and see a road that leads into a neighborhood.
"Looks like we can find a place to stay around here," I quickly say, trying to change the subject.
Rick senses this but chooses to keep it to himself. We continue to follow after Carl down the leaf covered road.
"Hey…hey…hey!" Rick calls out to Carl calmly.
Carl continues to walk until he finally stops in his tracks, not turning around. We're in front of a large, white house.
"Hey…" Rick says as he and I catch up behind him. "That one's as good as any."
We head up the front steps of the porch, toward the front door. Rick stands in front of the door, his hand on the doorknob. He glances at me and Carl with a nod as we have our guns ready. He then pushes the door wide open, holding his gun out in front of him as he heads inside, Carl and I mimicking him. I peer around the messy house, seeing that this section of the house is clear. Carl begins to head to the left and I steadily head straight as Rick leaves the front door ajar. He inspects the living room as I continue to head down toward a room. My gun is positioned in front of me as I amble down the hallway. I make my way toward the door of the room.. After slowly pushing the door open with my gun, I glance around and see that it's a children's bedroom. A small bed with green blankets lays strewn on the floor as worn out toys are scattered all over the place. I lower my gun seeing that this room is clear.
"Carl!" Rick calls out agitatedly after reaching the hallway behind me.
"I got it!" Carl retorts as he continues to head down the hallway. "All the doors down here are open."
Rick continues to hold his gun out cautiously, clearly agitated at Carl's behavior.
"Just stop," he commands.
Carl stands at the end of the hallway, dropping his arms down to his sides. He turns around with an annoyed sigh as he looks at his father. Rick returns his stern gaze. Carl then kicks a wooden shelf.
"Hey, asshole!" he shouts as he continues to kick the shelf. "Hey, shit-face! Hey –"
"Watch your mouth!" Rick hollers.
"Are you kidding me? If there was one of them down there, they would've come out."
There's a moment of silence between them two. I stand there, feeling the tension between them again. After a few more seconds of staring and silence, Carl walks down the turn of the hallway.
"What the hell is wrong with that kid?!" Rick mutters.
I keep my gaze down, not sure on how to answer. Rick limps his way down the hallway. I feel a sharp pain from my wounded shoulder but bite my lip and ignore it. I follow Rick after a brief sigh. He holds his gun out as he enters the kitchen, cautiously glancing around to make sure it's clear. It's safe, so he lowers his gun and looks over at the open refrigerator door. He closes it as he uses it for support. My eyes scan the kitchen, seeing that there's not much left of supplies and food. I walk up to a white cabinet and open it; there a two cans of beans and a spoon.
"What am I going to do with him, Michelle?" Rick asks as he searches through a drawer.
"Give him time to cool off," I reply as I search through another drawer. "You need some time to cool off, too."
"I don't need time—"
"Have a good look at yourself, Rick," I firmly state as I turn to him. "In case you haven't noticed, you're beaten half to death. Carl has a point…your pushing yourself too much in your condition. The same way he's ignoring you, you're ignoring your own damn self."
Rick leans against the counter as he is taken aback from my response. There's a moment of silence between us.
"We've found this house…" I break the silence as I stare at the floor. "I expect you to use it to get some rest. You need to recover."
Rick stares over at me and I meet his gaze. He gives me a nod.
It's dark now. The three of us are now setting up our new safe-house, making sure the entrances and exits are secured. Carl is tying a thick cable around the doorknob of the front door to a coat hanger that's nailed to the wall to hold it shut. I've finished clearing up our area and peer around, making sure things are set. Rick then begins to push a flipped sofa toward the front door.
"I tied the door shut," Carl says annoyed as he turns to Rick.
"We don't need to take any chances," Rick answers as he continues to push the sofa.
"You don't think it'll hold?"
"Carl!"
"It's a strong knot! Clove hitch…Shane taught me."
Rick stops pushing the sofa and stands upright, gazing at Carl through the dimly lit room.
"Remember him? "Carl asks.
"Yeah, I remember him…" Rick replies. "I remember him every day."
I watch as Carl is fixated at his father with such a hostile expression.
"Is there somethin' else you wanna say to me?" Rick asks irritably.
Carl then moves out of the way and helps Rick push the sofa against the front door, flipping it right side up.
"This'll have to do for the night," Rick says as he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket.
He walks over to the sofa and begins to take his holster belt off. Carl walks over to the window nearby and peers outside through a curtain's slit. After setting up a thick blanket on the floor, I sit on it as I take my holster belt off. I watch Carl as he takes a half empty bag of cereal and walks over to Rick.
"You gonna have some?" Carl asks him.
"You should eat…" Rick replies.
"We should save it."
Carl begins to take some blankets over to his own spot nearby. Rick takes the bag of cereal, stands up, and walks over to Carl.
"Hey…" he says as he holds the bag of cereal to Carl.
"I don't want any," Carl replies angrily.
"Eat it," Rick retorts as he chucks the bag of cereal to the floor in front of Carl. "Now."
Carl watches as his father limps past him out of the living room. I walk over to Carl, rubbing my hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.
"What's wrong with him?" he mutters.
"Your father's just under some physical and emotional stress," I reply. "Listen…I know you two are going through some tense emotions…Just try to keep in mind that his intentions are to keep you safe."
Carl lowers his head to the floor.
"I'll go check up on him. Meanwhile, you finish getting your sleeping spot set up," I say as I pat him lightly on his back.
He nods and continues to fix his blankets. I head out the living and into the hallway. In the silence, I hear Rick's heavy breathing coming from the bathroom. I walk in and see him unbuttoning his torn and worn out shirt, struggling a bit.
"Let me help you," I say as I step beside him.
He grimaces a bit as I help him slip his left shoulder out from his sleeve. The sound of his wheezing fills the room as he examines himself in the mirror. He stares at his bruised and bloody face. I watch him as I hold his shirt in my hands, feeling sad and worried.
"I'm sorry you had to see me act like that…" he finally says. "The way I'm talkin' to Carl…how I'm treatin' him…He brought up Shane…I…I just…"
He begins to hunch over the sink, beginning to sob quietly.
"Hey, hey…" I say as I quickly place my hands on his shoulders, trying to help him stand up straight. "Come on…don't be so hard on yourself."
"What kind of father am I?" he murmurs weakly.
I steady him and make him take a seat on the closed toilet. His head droops forward with his sweaty long curls hanging over his face as he continues to cry softly. I kneel in front of him and caress his head.
"Rick…Rick, look at me," I say as I place my hands carefully on the sides of his face, making him look up at me. "You're acting the way you are because you're making sure Carl is safe…You're being his father. You're not being like this because you just feel like it. You're doing it because you're fulfilling your duty as a father."
Rick stares into my eyes as he sniffles and breathes heavily. I wipe his tears away with my thumbs.
"You're under a lot of physical stress…It's taking a toll on you," I continue. "I know you're worried about Carl…but sometimes, you've gotta learn to truly trust him…I'm not saying it'll be easy…I'm having a hard time letting him be on his own, too. But what he really needs right now, is you – his father. What you need to focus on is getting better so that you can continue being there for him. If you really want to protect him, you have to get better first."
I continue to wipe his face clean with a handkerchief from my pocket. Holding his face gently in my hands, I plant a kiss on his lips.
"Please…Focus on recovering…do it for Carl…for me," I plead with tearful eyes.
Rick is touched by my words and clenches his jaw. He places his left hand on my right cheek and begins to caress it.
"Thank you…" he murmurs as he looks into my eyes.
I smile warmly at him as I push the long curls away from his face.
"Now, come on. Let's get ready to sleep," I say.