We've settled into a nice rhythm here at the Alexandria Safe Zone, being here about half a month now. I've hung my calendar up on the wall beside my dresser, and the watch that Carl and I found a couple years ago at the Carnival grounds sits on the nightstand beside our bed. Also on the bedside table is a pile of comic books Carl has accumulated, and my pile of books that I've collected. One day I hope we'll have a bookshelf for these.
I've never been the kind of person that liked to unpack on vacation. Like what the hell people, this isn't your home. But I have here, and I've been given more clothes in addition. I've even been offered another pair of shoes, but I just can't give up my old Docs. Over the past couple of weeks I've done several jobs of a varying sort. I've cooked, I've cleaned the kitchen area afterward, I've watched the children, I've farmed, I've stood on watch duty with another guard. But today, I finally get a job I'm actually looking forward to.
Carl and I were informed last night that we were going to join a group of supply runners to clear out a strip mall about 30 miles off. I am desperate to make a good impression with this job, because out of all the things I've done so far, I want to stick with this one the most.
Headaches have taken a daily regiment here along with showers, and solid meals. Most of the time, they're manageable, and I just persevere through them. But other times, I can't think, let alone move. Those are the times I allow myself to take aspirin, or Advil or whatever. I'm worried if I take the medication too often, the doctors here will notice. And I don't want that to happen.
I roll over in bed and start to shake Carl's shoulder, "Hey, come on! Today's the day. Rise and shine sleepy head."
Carl lets out a groan and his arms lift off of me as he rolls over in protest.
"Carl, wake up. Don't make me go get Judith." I sit up. Carl's relinquished some of his duties to Beth when it comes to Judith, but we still pick her up from Paula's every day. Sometimes we play with her afterward, and when Beth has other plans, we still happily care for Judith. Today is just not one of those days.
"You wouldn't," he mumbles into the pillow. I know, and Carl knows, if I get Judith, she'll be a spunky, jumpy, relentlessness force until Carl got up.
I devilish smirk curls up the corners of my mouth, "Don't test me."
Carl turns back over to face me, he looks up, his eyelids are heavy with sleep and his bangs are in his face, "Sam."
I ruffle his hair, "You know you wanna get up."
"You know I hate when you do that," he pokes me in the gut.
I flinch up where he poked me, "But it's so much fun," I tease, he pokes me again, "I'll go get Judith." I threaten, lifting my head higher, I start to move off the bed.
He grabs my arm, "I'm up. I'm up." he sits up, rubbing his eyes.
"Good," I grin, I get out of bed and grab a change of clothes from the dresser. Today it's a gray, thin, long-sleeve shirt with blue and green plaid shorts to my knees. I braid my hair into pigtails and slide on my beanie.
When I come out of the bathroom, Carl is up and changed, he even has his sheriff hat on. I walk over to him and take his hand, "Come on, daylight's a wastin'!" pulling him to move faster, "You can't tell me you aren't excited."
"I am," Carl gives me a lazy smile, "you're just more emphatic about it, that's all. Trust me, I'm glad I'm not stuck on farmer duty again." he lifts his eyebrows on the word 'again' as if to emphasize it.
We go to breakfast where Rick's helping Judith with her oatmeal, Beth and Daryl are having a conversation to themselves and the look on Beth's face isn't promising. Michonne sits across from Rick, eating, keeping to herself.
Carl and I sit at our normal spots next to Rick and we quickly eat, but I can't help but look over at Rick and Judith. I nudge Carl with my elbow, he looks past me.
You can tell that Rick loves his little girl, but she's trying his patience. She keeps sticking the spoonful of oatmeal in her dad's face and declaring, "Eat!" and then he'd shake his head and turn the spoon around and tell her to eat it. Then she'd eat it and the process would start over. But she's becoming more and more persistent the longer this goes on.
"She's too precious," I turn around to Carl
He's still looking at his sister, "Yeah, she hasn't turned out that bad so far."
Out of all of us, we all agree that Judith needs this place the most. She needs a stable environment to grow up in, and it seems we've found it. She's made a couple friends at Paula's, which is a good sign.
We quickly finish up eating and head to the gate, which is where we were told to meet our crew for supply running. Sasha is already there, along with two other men with dark skin. She introduces them as Heath and Scott. Heath has black rectangular glasses, Scott is bald.
"Are we ready to go?" I look past Sasha, at a building about 20 yards away. The armory, they took up our guns and knives on the first day. Well, except for Michonne's sword, they allowed her to keep it on display in her room. They've haven't allowed us to carry our own weapons yet. I guess they don't trust us as much as they'd like us to believe. But it's all understandable.
Sasha shakes her head, "No, we're waiting for one more person. He's actually a little younger than you guys. It'll be his first run, but he should be ok."
Carl and I look at each other, unsure.
"He was out on the road not too long ago, so he knows what it's like. He can handle himself." Sasha assures us.
Well if he can handle himself, then where the hell is he?
I look around at the little town around us. Well really, it's only a couple streets or so. But I guess you could call it a town. It's got a church and an infirmary, of course living space, the previously mentioned armory, and there's also a meeting house somewhere, I haven't been there yet as I imagine attendance is by invitation only.
Spring is finally beginning to bloom around us, the dead and the brown is finally turning green as trees bud and flowers blossom. The weather here is much more mild than that in Georgia, I'd imagine the summers won't be as hot, seeing as the winters are much cooler. A breeze blows softly against my pigtails as I stand with my arms crossed, waiting for this kid. I give Carl an impatient look and he runs a comforting hand across my back with a look that says 'he'll be here soon, just give it time'.
We wait around for about 10 or 15 more minutes, when Sasha's attention is focused past Carl and I.
"Josh!" she calls, "Over here!"
I turn around and see a kid, probably about thirteen or fourteen walking towards us, taking his dear, sweet time.
Ahem, if you don't mind, buddy, PICK UP THE PACE. You may not be appreciating this trip, but I certainly am.
My lips tighten to a line and Carl gives me a pointed look. My eyes go to the ground.
"Hey," he says when he's finally close enough for us to hear, "Sorry I'm late."
Bullshit.
Sasha waves him towards her, "It's fine really, let's head over to the armory and then we'll be ready to go." So we all walk over to the armory, it's cooler inside, than it is outside and it's almost uncomfortable.
Sasha points Carl and I over to where our weapons are being kept. There's a guard in the armory, I guess to prevent any riots, or people taking their weapons when they aren't allowed to and such. We're observed with a close eye as I take my knife and Glock. I fasten the sheath of the knife around my waist, and then on the opposite side sits the holster for my gun with another strap that clicks around my waist. I holster both weapons and Carl clips the holster for his Beretta around his thigh. Once we're ready, we head back over to Sasha and they've all got their weapons. For reasons I'll never understand they gave that kid, Josh, a semi-automatic rifle. Wouldn't a nice handgun do the trick?
We follow Sasha out to a van that we're taking out to the strip mall. We all pile in. Heath drives, Sasha sits shotgun, I sit in the middle next to Scott, and Carl sits in the back next to Josh.
Josh keeps trying to strike up conversation with Carl, and Carl is just not having it. I keep turning around in my seat to look at him and he is either looking out the window or giving me a look that says 'help me.' and when I laugh, he gives me a different look, 'This is the last time I'm going to be a gentleman for you.'
I reach my hand back behind the seat and search blindly for his hand. When I find it, I give it a squeeze and a grateful look. He leans his head up against my seat and I lean back. I stare at the roof of the van for the remainder of the trip.
We finally arrive at the strip mall and quickly get out. I stand beside Carl, waiting for Sasha to give her instructions to us. She hands us each a decent size bag to collect our haul. There's 6 old businesses at this strip mall, one for each of us. There's a gun store, an electronics shop, a hair salon, a clothing store, a laundromat, and a small restaurant. Heath is assigned to the gun store, Josh gets the electronics shop, Sasha takes the laundromat, Carl is given the restaurant, and I get the clothing store. Our orders are to grab anything we can use. Anything, well minus spoiled food and pointless electronics, no one has a use for a DVD player, or a cell phone anymore.
We do have electricity at the safe zone, but it only runs in half the houses, luckily we live in a duplex with hot water and power. But the power is for the lights, we are told not to waste it on frivolous things, which I've long since adjusted to. Though, what I wouldn't give to listen to some Paramore or Foo Fighters again.
"Scream if you run into trouble." is our order too. I can't believe their letting this kid just clear out a building on his own. I mean, Carl and I were doing runs when we were fourteen, but we weren't clearing out entire buildings alone. Does this kid have parents? Jeez.
Stop Sam, focus on your own job instead of being a judgmental asshole.
I slam my fist against the glass windows of the shopping center, and a walker smacks itself against one of the windows, ruining a perfectly good window display. What a pity.
I pull out my Glock and throw the door open. I scan the area to make sure it's just the one. When more don't immediately pop up, I put my gun away and pull out my knife. No reason in making noise and wasting ammo.
The walker turns to me with its foggy eyes, clumped, messy hair, and gaunt gray cheeks. It starts to move towards me, but I don't let it get close. I kick it in the knee, it falls to the ground and I stab my knife in through the eye, it stops moving and I look up. One down, who knows how many more to go.
My ears perk up nervously when I hear gunshots going off a couple buildings away. The noise is muffled by walls and closed doors, but it's still there. I decide I'm not worried since it wasn't in Carl's direction, plus no one screamed. Probably that stupid ass kid shooting off his gun, spooked more likely than not. The shots stop and I continue my process.
I pull my Glock back out and sheathe my knife, you can never be too careful. I make sure I'm scanning the building thoroughly, looking around each shelf and then checking in the back. I find two more, and knife them separately, they're not worth the bullets.
Once I'm sure the building is clear I get to work. It's mainly a women's clothing store, but I pick up what I can. I find some new clothes for Judith and even a couple flannel shirts for Carl. I stuff my bag with clothes until it literally won't hold any more. I check around the checkout desk if maybe someone kept some snacks or something. Maybe a pad of paper and some pens or something. It may not be vital for Judith's survival, but I'd sure like to teach her how to write someday. Give her something from the old world. I'm pleased when I find a roll of paper that was probably used for receipts and a couple sharpies. Maybe she can draw with them for now. As long as she doesn't do anything like stick the open sharpies up her nose. Then we might have a problem.
I take my haul back to the van, so that perhaps I can collect even more. Lord knows there's plenty in that store.
I set my bag down in the back of the van when I hear the scream. Instantly I pull out my gun and start running to where I heard the scream emanate from.
It's the goddamn electronics store.
Of course.
Son of a bitch.
Everyone is running there too, Heath is the first one there, he throws open the door, and I catch Carl running this way from the corner of my eye. We run in there and Josh is firing the semi-automatic like mad. My ears are ringing with the sounds of gunfire at such close proximity. The walkers are everywhere. Somehow the kid managed to scramble up onto an elevated display. He's wide eyed and scared, still firing that damn gun. But the thing is, he isn't hitting shit. Granted they are everywhere, he was entirely within his rights to scream, there's probably 30 or so of the monsters trying to get at him. They're so preoccupied with Josh, they haven't even noticed the five of us standing just inside the door. Carl runs around so he can get them from the back and possibly draw some away from Josh, I follow and immediately starting aiming and hitting my target, never using more than two bullets per walker. We stop once or twice to reload. Sasha, Heath, and Scott are firing too. It doesn't seem as though Josh has recognized us being present because the kid is still screaming and still firing the gun willy-nilly.
They say time slows down when you're in tense situations, but just then, time moved way too fast. It flew right by me and there was nothing I could do.
One minute Carl's standing there, headshotting walkers left and right. Next thing I know, Josh has finally hit his first target.
"Sam," comes out of his mouth so faintly, I wonder if I imagined it. The bullet ripped across his face and tore out part of his hat.
He falls to the ground and I drop my gun. To hell with the world right now.
I'm on my knees right beside him. He's trying to not pass out and he's bleeding. Oh dear God is he bleeding.
Panic, hysteria, dread, and dismay all flood into my head at once. I'm scared to death, I want to start crying, but I can't let it show. I have to be strong, give Carl some of my strength.
I'm not going to let him die. I'll be damned if he dies because some fucking dumbass, dipshit, kid misfired and shot my boyfriend. Like hell I'll let him die.
"You fucking shot him!" I scream out at the bastard. The last walker clatters to the ground, and Sasha and Heath are running over to us. I rip one of the sleeves off of my shirt, I wrap it around his head in dire efforts to help stop some of the bleeding. But it won't be enough. Not for long at least.
"We have to get him back now." Sasha says, her eyes locked on Carl. I glare at her, she let this moron come on this trip, and now look what happened.
Carl lets out a moan, and his head turns towards me.
"You're going to be alright." I tell him bluntly. Never before have I put such confidence behind my words. With assurance as strong as this, it has to be true, right?
"Let's get him out of here. Now." Heath helps me get Carl to his feet. He can't walk, so Heath screws it and carries Carl. It can't be easy, carrying a full grown boy like Carl. We get him to the van and we strap him in one of the middle seats. Sasha offers to sit in the back with Josh so I can sit next to Carl, while Scott and Heath sit up front. If I was forced to stay back there, I'd probably kill the brat. I'm so high-strung at the moment.
He's already bled through my shirt sleeve.
"I sure hope someone found bandages," I snap.
"I did," Scott informs me, "Heath, look through that bag by your feet, there should be a roll of gauze." Heath quickly finds it and hands me it. Even though we're tearing down the road like there's no tomorrow, and it's extremely dangerous, I unbuckle my seat belt and get in the middle space next to Carl. Ultimate badass move, I know. It may be the zombie apocalypse, but hey, better safe than sorry.
Until now.
"Carl, sweetie," I've never called him sweetie before, but I can't help it now. I force my voice to be strong, but gentle as I speak to him, "I'm gonna try and wrap your head up, ok?" I'm so close to breaking right now, it wouldn't even take effort. In fact, if I stopped trying to be strong now I'd be bawling.
He's somehow still semi-conscious, and he turns his head towards me. Oh God, I want him to pass out so the pain isn't as brutal. I want him to escape for a moment. I untie my shirt sleeve and I start wrapping his head in gauze.
I try to do this action as calmly as I can manage, I have to stiffen my arms so they don't shake as I try and wrap up his head. No, this gauze won't be enough, he'll bleed right through that.
"Sasha," I bark, "Look in that bag in the back, and hand me something I can use to help soak up this blood."
She digs around in the back and tosses me a t-shirt. I undo the gauze and I fold up the shirt so it's thicker as it presses against the wound. I rewrap the gauze and he slumps in his chair. He's finally gone unconscious. I study at his chest intently for a moment. Yes, only unconscious.
Once I've done all I can do, I get back in my seat and buckle my seat belt. We're literally flying past these trees, we'll be back at the safe zone in no time. They have doctors there. They can save him. They will save him.
What am I gonna tell Rick.
What am I gonna tell Judith?
How do I tell a four year old child that her big brother has been shot and lost an eye in the process.
He lost an eye.
It finally registers in my mind that Carl lost an eye. Never again will it be those bright blue eyes that bore into my every being and make my heart do a thousand tricks at once. Just one, just one bright blue. That shithead behind me dimmed the other one.
I'm going to kill him.
Sam, no. You can't.
I swear to God I'm going to kill him.
Sam, they'll kick you out for sure. And you'll be forced to leave Carl, even if he lives.
When. Even when he lives. He will. He will live, he has to.
As we pull up to the safe zone, Scott unrolls the windows and he starts screaming at them to open the gates. We don't even stop, Scott drives right up to the infirmary and people- doctors I assume- come running out.
Scott quickly explains what happened and two people run in to grab a stretcher. Three more come over to Carl's side of the van and they look over him.
"Is he going to live?" I demand. He has to. He will. Goddammit he has to.
After a moment, a woman with blonde hair pulled back reassures me that he should live. I don't like that word, should. He either is or he isn't. And the answer better goddamn be 'is'.
The stretcher arrives a moment later and they lay Carl on the stretcher, I hop out. Like hell I'm leaving his side. They get him inside.
"We're going to have to stitch him up," the blonde woman informs me, "It needs to be as sterile an environment as we can get. I know you won't like it, but we can't allow you to be there."
I look at her with cold eyes, "He better live."
"We will do our best," she promises.
The last thing I want to do is leave Carl. But I understand this is for the best, I need to go tell Rick what's going on anyhow.
"I'll be back. I have to go tell his dad." I tell her, "I better be able to see him when I get back." I tell her with gritted teeth.
"You probably will," she uses a calming tone, but at the moment there is no calm. There's life and death. There's panic and fear. And there's dread and distress. That is all. I am just an object running on four emotions and none of them are good.
When Monroe found out Rick was a police officer before the world went to shit, he decided that he should be a constable, someone who maintains the peace. Which isn't too difficult as far as I can tell. The people here are pretty peaceful, this town is pretty peaceful.
Until today.
I run screaming down the streets to where Rick works, I'm screaming his name and running as fast as I can. People come out from their workplaces and stand up from taking care of the crops and stare at me, wild hooligan, screaming in the streets, for the constable. They know something is up, I can feel all their eyes on me, wondering what event could spark such a ruckus.
Rick emerges from a building and I nearly run smack into him. He holds me back by my shoulders and I start huffing and puffing, trying to catch my breath.
"What is it Sam?" demands Rick, "Where's Carl?"
I'm still trying to catch my breath, and now that I'm here I'm scared to answer.
"Sam. Where's Carl."
"Shot," I exhale finally.
"What," Rick's face twists into an entirely different emotion.
"He was shot," my voice finally cracks
"Is he alive?" Rick lowers his voice, he's bending down some so he can look me in the eyes.
I swallow hard, "For now."
Here comes the waterfall of emotions again, I can't stop it anymore and I hug Rick as I let out a sob.
"I'm sorry," I choke out, "Goddamn, I didn't even see it coming, it just happened. There was nothing I could do to stop. That dumbass prick..." I trail off.
"Hey, hey, hey." Rick hugs me back, "Calm down, it's ok. It's gonna be ok. Please just tell me what happened."
I pull back from Rick, and I somehow have managed to hold back actual tears, for now, "We were clearing out this strip mall. And one of our people- this kid, only thirteen or fourteen got caught up in a real messy deal. There were about 35-40 walkers there, all surrounding him. The kid had a goddamn semi-automatic and he couldn't shoot worth shit. We all ran to help him, Carl and I were shooting down walkers, one shot misfired and it hit Carl. He lost an eye, and I tried to stop the bleeding as best I could for the ride home. They're stitching him up in the infirmary now. I did everything that I could, Rick," I shake my head, the hysteria is rising rapidly, "I just wish it was me instead of him."
"Come on," he says firmly, "Let's go. I gotta get to my boy." he sounds he's about to lose it too. We run back over to the infirmary and we find a nurse standing outside the room they took him into.
"How is he?" Rick's raspy tone is unsafely low.
"He's lost a lot of blood, they always do with a head wound like that." she explains carefully
"Take it from me," Rick demands.
The nurse gives Rick a confused look, "Excuse me?"
Rick doesn't have the patience for this, but he tries anyway, "We have the same blood type, take it from me. Do the transfusion with me."
The nurse nods and she escorts Rick to another room to draw blood.
"I'm going in there!" I shout at the nurse as she walks off. When I hear no protest, I slowly open the door. There's another nurse at his side. They've got him patched up for real, and have him hooked up to several different things.
I'm glad the infirmary is on the side of town with power.
I look at him, and all I want to do is cry. There's my Carl, the one who always helps me, and now I've got to help him. He looks so helpless.
"Has he woken up yet?" my tone is still fragile.
"No, he'll probably be out for a while. But he's going to be ok. I can tell you that. As long as we keep the wound clean and fight off infection, he will be ok." the nurse tells me.
Ok? He's going to be visually impaired for the rest of his life.
But he'll be alive, and that's what matters most.
"Thank you," I close my eyes and press my palms to my face. I take a moment to compose myself as relief sweeps through me.
I look up, removing my hands and I walk over to the bed beside Carl. I pull up a chair and sit right next to him. I grab his hand, which lies lamely by his side and I hold it between mine.
Rick comes in after a while, bandage over the crook in his arm. He walks in slowly, eyes wide as he looks at his son. The nurse looks at the two of us and decides to let us have some space with Carl, she walks out and shuts the door behind her.
"My boy," he mutters, "my son. That's my son." he sounds so frightened and broken, it's scary to see Rick this way.
"He's gonna be ok," I turn to Rick, "They say he's gonna be ok."
His steps are slow to make their way to Carl's bedside, "He was shot five years ago in the chest. I hoped I'd never have to see him like this again." Rick bows his head.
"Rick," I say, studying the carpet floor.
"Yes?" I can feel his eyes on me.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him better." I still can't look up
Rick keeps a steady tone, "You did what you could. You did all any of us could do, there's no reason to feel shame for that."
Carl lets out a moan and both of our attention flashes to the boy.
"Carl?" I make my tone stronger than I feel
"Carl," Rick speaks up
His eyes blink open, and he obviously very weak.
"Dad?" he sounds too frightened. Rick moves so Carl can see him without moving.
"I'm right here, Carl," Rick's eyes are deeply set upon his ailing son.
"How did I get here?" he asks
Rick's the talking one, which is good, it take so much strength to muster up one sentence, "Sam and the others helped get you back here. The doctors stitched you up, you're gonna be fine, Carl."
"Sam?" he starts to move his head, "Where is she?"
I stand up and squeeze his hand, "I'm right here. I told you everything was gonna be ok."
He nods, he's already starting to fade again, "Sam?"
"Yes Carl?" I answer immediately
"You're gonna get Judy today right? I don't know if I'll be up in time," I can't tell if he's joking or not.
"Of course I will. You aren't getting up any time soon, you've got some major healing to do, mister." I speak strictly. No matter how many times they say it, or I say it, I'm still scared I'm gonna lose him.
"Will you make sure you play with her and all that? I don't want her to be upset while I'm not there," he asks
I nod and nod, "Of course, she won't even know you're gone she'll be having such a good time." I promise. I'm starting to tear up. But I can't cry, he can't know how afraid I really am. He's never seen me cry before, now is not the time.
"Good," he shuts his eye and his breaths are getting deeper.
"Carl, I love you. I love you so, so much." I'm starting to get a little frantic
"I love you too bookworm," and he's gone again. I shut my eyes hard, they said he's gonna be ok. Stop stressing.
"You go get Judy, I'll stay here and watch over him," Rick tells me, "but you can't bring her here. No matter what, ok? I don't want her to see him just yet."
I nod in understanding, "Of course not, I'll keep her entertained until it's time for her to go to bed, and then I'll be back. It'll be distracting for the both of us. Tell me if anything happens." I reluctantly release Carl's hand, I take one last look at him and I turn around, trying to stay composed.
I walk out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. My footsteps are careful and quiet as I exit the infirmary. I don't look up, just at the ground in front of me. My eyes glance up for a moment as I get back out onto the street. I make a left turn and head for Paula's, my eyes skirt the ground until I'm nearly in front of Paula's house.
There, you gave yourself some time for weakness, now you have to show Judith strength, let your strength help power her.
How am I going to tell her this?
That one thought ravages my mind as I knock on the door. Paula answers after a bit, "Where's your boyfriend?" she asks, her eyes moving to the empty space beside me.
I force a smile, "Just me today, now where is she?" I look past Paula
Paula narrows her eyes, unsure, but she lets it pass and motions me to enter. Judith is playing with some blocks with a little boy who's probably a couple years older than her. But the two appear to be getting along just fine.
"Hey Judy!" I call, my tone is even sweeter than it normally is.
Her head snaps up, and her green eyes are locked on me. She up on her feet in an instant and runs over to me, hugging my legs, "Sam!" she looks up at me and smiles sweetly. She doesn't know. She doesn't even know.
"How was your day?" I smile at her, I reach down and I pick her up. That's what Carl would normally do.
"Very good!" she beams, "I made a new friend!" she points to the kid she left with blocks, "His name is Mikey."
I continue my act of overenthusiastic zeal, "That's awesome Judy!" I turn to the kid on the ground, "Hi Mikey, I'm Sam."
He looks up from his blocks and waves at me, obviously more focused on his blocks. He turns back to his blocks and I figure it's about time we go.
"As always, thank you," I tell Paula as we exit.
She fakes a smile at me, still obviously suspicious, "No problem, the kid's a doll."
We walk out and get back on the street.
"Do you want to walk or do you want me to carry you?" I offer Judith.
Please say walk. Please say walk. I'm not nearly as strong as Carl, and Judith's getting really heavy.
"I'm a big girl. I wanna walk." Judith informs me.
"Alrighty then," I comply, setting Judith down, but I make sure I'm still holding onto her hand, "Big girl it is."
We're headed back towards the duplex when she speaks up, "Where's Carl?"
Here it is. It's do or die time. Just take a deep breath and be brave.
I make myself keep walking, even though all I want to do is stop. She can't know how serious all of this is, "When we went out today, Carl... had an accident. He got hurt and now he's resting."
"He got a boo boo?" she looks up innocently at me.
A big boo boo.
I nod, "Yes sweetie, he's going to need to rest for a very long time. So he can't play with you today, but I can. We can do whatever you want." I force a smile towards her.
She thinks about this for a moment, "Can I see him? I wanna see Carl."
A lump forms in my throat and I shake my head, "No Judy, I'm sorry. Not today, but maybe soon." One can only hope.
"He gonna be ok, right? Carl's not gonna die?" the gravity of the question and the words she speaks throw me for a loop.
God, this kid is smarter than we give her credit for. We try to make it better for her, but she can see things that I certainly wouldn't have when I was that little.
"He's not going to die, Judy. He's going to be ok," I falsely promise. I know what they say, but this is the apocalypse. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And I can't help but be utterly terrified, "Your big brother is strong. He can do anything." I smile at her, but the smile hurts me. It rips me apart inside.
"I know." she smiles sweetly at me. You're a good kid, Judith.
We get back to the duplex and much to my dismay, Judith wants to play dolls. My worst enemy.
So we sit on the floor of her room and she walks over to her dresser and she pulls hard to open the lowest dresser drawer and she pulls out all her dolls. She has four of them. A mermaid Barbie, a normal Barbie, a Cabbage Patch Kid, and an actual baby doll.
She hands me mermaid Barbie, "Look! She turn into a princess when you pull her tail, it's a skirt!" Judith sits up on her knees and stretches over to show me how to undo the velcro and turn mermaid Barbie into Princess Barbie. I look at her in astonishment, pretending that I just saw the coolest trick in the world. Judith explains to me her little doll world and how I get to play the princess who rules over the whole kingdom (the other three dolls) and she starts rambling off things that I admittedly start to tune out. I just smile and nod and pretend to look intent as she explains everything. Good lord, this kid has an imagination.
It was a group decision a couple years ago, that upon giving Judith dolls, we were also going to tell her about fairy tales and princesses and princes and kingdoms and all that jazz. So that she wouldn't grow up playing dolls where the princess was bitten by the walker and then all the friends of the princess would have to kill her. That was not the kind of imagination we were going to endorse. So I collected as many children's books as I could find so that I could tell Judith the stories. Beth helped too, and sometimes we'd make up our own stories. Judith just ate them up, loved every one of them.
I do what she wants me to do as we play with the dolls until I look up at the clock and notice it's time to go eat dinner.
"Hey Judy, are you getting hungry?" I ask kindly
She motions to my doll, "Princess Pink." and I realize she wants my doll to ask her doll.
"Princess Pink would like to formally invite Princess Judith to go eat dinner." I play along
"Ok!" Judith beams and then sets her Barbie down. We walk to dinner and tonight it's peas and carrots with canned ham. I carry Judith's plate for her and I go to our normal table. Michonne, Daryl, and Beth are there.
"Where's Daddy?" Judith asks when we sit down. Three more pairs of eyes go to me. Shit, they don't know. I guess word really doesn't get around in this place.
I force another smile, but this isn't a big one, it's more of a reassuring smile, "He's with Carl."
"Oh," she looks at her plate in front of her.
The looks from all three intensify, Daryl's eyes are narrowed with suspicion, Michonne tries to remain stoic, but her eyes give away her true emotion, Beth's lips are drawn to a tight line and she looks pretty nervous. While Judith still isn't looking I mouth 'infirmary'. Upon recollection, that only made it worse.
We all sit quietly, their nerves make the air tense and I know I can't say a thing without exposing it all to Judy.
"Daryl and I are getting married," Beth announces, trying to change the mood.
"That's fantastic!" more of this forced happiness, if this was the old world, I should've pursued a career in acting.
Daryl smirks at Beth, and his eyes are a kind of softness that is not often seen from Daryl. I knew this was going to happen sometime, I guess they were just waiting for when they were more settled and could have an actual ceremony. I just wish Maggie could've been here to see it. Since we lost both her and Glenn around the time Terminus happened, Beth never saw her sister after the prison we reunited with her after we lost them.
The rest of dinner is a particularly quiet event, though Judith speaks up sometimes and even though the others don't know what happened, they do their best to keep Judith happy. After dinner Beth mouths to me that her and Daryl are headed to the infirmary, Michonne offers to help me with Judith and I give her a look that says 'I've got this, you should really go with them.'
I take Judith back to the duplex and I offer to read her a story. She's extremely agreeable to this, and I tell her that she has to take her bath first. She splashes around a lot, soaking my clothes, but eventually she's all cleaned up and I get her into her nightgown. She pulls herself onto the bed, which takes a bit of effort, but when I offer to help her, she refuses saying she's got this. Once she gets up on the bed, she crawls under the covers and then sits up eagerly, doll in hand, eyes wide open, ready for a story.
When we officially moved in here, I moved all the children's books I'd collected for Judith into her room, they sit stacked up on top of the dresser. I grab the one on top and I sit beside Judith on the bed, she leans her small head against my arm and looks at the book as I read it.
Today it's not a fairy tale, or anything about princesses, I'm reading her Go, Dog, Go. She's starting to read, and it'd be a lie to say I'm not the main help in that aspect. She points out certain words she recognizes and says them out loud, then looks to me for praise. I smile at her and then carry on with the story.
About half way through the book, her head slumps against my arm, she's out cold. Just like her brother. I finish the book and tuck her in, making sure she's comfortable. When I'm sure it's all clear, I quietly leave and shut the door behind me.
I leave the duplex, and it's dark outside, street lamps lit with fire line the street, giving me something to help guide me back to the infirmary.
When I arrive, Beth, Daryl, and Michonne are out in the hallway. Michonne and Beth are seated and Daryl stands, back pressed against the wall, arm on Beth's chair.
"How is he?" I ask, I bite my tongue, preparing for the worst.
Beth stands up and gives me a hug, "I'm so sorry."
Oh God, what happened. I push her back after a moment, "How is he?" my tone is firmer
"They've done a blood transfusion, and he's woken up since then. He's been asking for you, but he might be back out now. I'm so sorry about what happened." Beth explains with a sad look, she's got the comforting, gentle tone from her father, and it's good in times like these.
"Rick hasn't left his side once, you should go in there." Michonne tells me.
I open the door slowly, nervously.
He's still lying down, and he looks like he's unconscious. Rick's sitting in the chair I was earlier, running his hand over his beard. He turns his head to me and nods in acknowledgment.
"Judith's asleep, but why don't you head back to the house, just in case. She's been asking about you." I tell Rick.
Rick nods, pressing his lips together, "Just so you know, they've got him on a lot of medicine, even if he comes to, he may not make much sense." he casts a final look at his son. He stands and pats me on the back.
I move the chair to Carl's good side, or the one he can see out of, and then I sit down. I rest my elbows on my knees and I fold my hands and rest my forehead against them, almost like I'm praying. Maybe I fall asleep, maybe I don't, but I open my eyes when I hear shifting. My head shoots up, and Carl's turned on his side and looking at me.
"Hey," my lips part and the corners of my mouth turn up just enough to be classified as a smile. I reach my hand out and push the hair from his face. As I start to pull my hand away, Carl snatches it and holds it with his own.
"Hey," his eyelid is heavy and I can tell what Rick meant about the drugs.
"I took care of Judith this afternoon," I tell him.
He becomes instantly more focused, "What... what did you tell her?"
"That you were hurt and had to rest for a while. I didn't tell her anything gory, or detailed. Just the basics." I pause for a moment, considering my options, "She wanted to go see you, but I couldn't let her do that. Not so soon."
"Right," he nods, mumbling. Just like that, he's dazed and unfocused again. I keep looking at him, waiting to see if he'll do anything else.
"Does it hurt?" my voice comes out unnaturally quiet, it really is a dumb question.
He shrugs, "I didn't feel it at first, the pain came when I was just lying there, and then it got worse and worse. Then I woke up, and I haven't felt much since."
I nod along, not really understanding, because how can I really understand what he's going through?
"Sam," he breaks free of his trance somewhat, "Since we're here now, and there's more people. I've been thinking."
What the hell is he going on about?
"I figure, since this happened, and there's more people our age, if maybe you wanted to find someone better? Since there's more options now. I wouldn't mind really, I wouldn't. I just want you to be happy." he looks nervously at me.
This must be the meds talking, God, they must have him really drugged up.
"Don't be ridiculous. Carl, I'm not gonna leave you because you lost an eye." I try to be rational to him, "I didn't fall for you because you have pants and a pulse. I fell in love with you, because you're you. And I like that, I like you as a person and just because you got shot doesn't mean I'm gonna back out. Dear God, how vain would that be?" I shake my head at them, "I love you, sheriff." my tone softens. I can't say it enough, I'll never be able to say it enough.