We Come Running

Chapter Three ~ Reassurance
Carl's POV

How do you recognize
the dirty face of gold?

I awoke to a throbbing pain above my left eye and a coursing ache all throughout the rest of my head. Blood stained the white pillow case beneath my head where I'd been resting for who knows how long. My eyes took a short moment to adjust and focus to the harsh lighting that flooded around me.

"Carl?" A soft hand touched my shoulder and I looked over to see Tess, the pretty young nurse who was in training, standing next to the uncomfortable mattress I was settled on. Curly blonde hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall, complete with her large jeweled blue eyes. I had a small crush on her when she first came here about six months ago. She went to school with me for a couple of weeks prior to making the decision that she wanted to help out our community and become a nurse. "Carl, are you awake?"

It was still hard for me to see through the blurriness of post-sleep exhaustion but I could distinctly make out my dad sitting in a plastic chair with Judith on his lap. Next to him sat Michonne, leaning over but not getting very far with her large pregnancy belly.

"Yeah," My voice came out tired and weak as I turned over fully onto my side to face her. "Yeah, I'm awake,"

Tess smiled at me and set a plastic cup half full of water onto the table that resided next to the mattress. "Carl, do you remember anything from what happened?"

"Well, I'll have you know that I remember my own name so you don't need to keep saying it." I don't know where it came from, maybe from the built up stress or maybe it's just because that's who I am, but I was in a mood to argue.

"Carl," My dad snapped at me as a warning. He'd told me numerous times to respect the people who worked hard in the town. It was just hard for me to listen to him because I didn't like listening. To anyone. Especially him.

Tess looked slightly offended but didn't say anything; she only cast the infamous 'I'm sorry your son is a douche' look to my dad and Michonne. Everyone gave him that look. They thought they were being sly and hiding it from me, but I'd seen it enough times to know what it meant and when it was coming.

"Yeah, I remember," I sighed. She pushed a lock of my dark brown hair out of my face and smiled at me. It wasn't a sincere smile, though—it was a 'you're a douche but I can't say that in front of your parents' smile.

"Okay, Carl," She continued, stepping away from me. I took a frustrated breath. It was like they didn't even think I knew my own name. "Here's a glass of water on the nightstand. If you need anything else, just call for me or Bryce." Bryce was a middle aged man who acted as the main doctor. He was also Tess's mentor.

"When can we take him home?" My dad asked, setting Judith down on the floor with a quick glance at Michonne, who was still sitting stone-faced. She always seemed to do that; rarely did she ever show any emotions other than serious. She didn't talk much anymore, either, other than to my dad.

Tess turned around from where she had walked, only about ten feet away. "I'm sorry sir, that's not up to me. If you want, talk to Bryce. I'm not far enough in training to assess when the patient is fully recovered." With that, she pivoted around on her heel and continued back on her way out of the room and into the hallway.

"Dad, it's not bad, I'm fine. It's not that big of a—" I started, but he stood up from his chair with so much force that the chair almost fell backwards.

"Carl, what the hell were you doing outside the walls?" He didn't shout, but instead let his words shoot out in a menacing whisper. It was like he was ashamed of me and he didn't want anyone to know what I'd done. I took a minute, stared at him, and shook my head. He knew why. He acted like the victim. My father had a collection of inconspicuous 'looks' that only he and I understood. Right now, he was giving me the 'I raised you better than this and you should act more like me' look.

A soft knock on the opened door interrupted whatever threat was about to be thrown my way. I looked up to see Enid holding my backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

"Oh, sorry…" She took a step back, shying away from the occupied room. "I wasn't trying to…"

"Nope," My dad took hold of Judith's hand and Michonne's arm and stood up. "We were just leaving." He didn't even make eye contact with me as he left the room, which I was somewhat thankful for. That meant I had to prepare for a shit storm when I got home—great, just what I wanted.

"Hey," Enid greeted, walking over to the guest chairs sitting next to my mattress, still seeming a bit nervous. "Do you feel okay?"

I propped myself up on my elbow so I was almost at eye level with her. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?"

She set the paper bag on the edge of the mattress and slung my backpack over the shoulder to allow it to land on the chair next to the one she sat on. "Look in the bag,"

I cast a playfully suspicious glare at her as I retrieved the bag. It was light, almost as if the contents were nonexistent. The brown bag was folded and loosely rolled over at the top. Enid shifted uncomfortably in her chair, as if she was embarrassed by whatever was in the bag.

The first thing I saw was wood. A small sliver of wood; a piece of bark ripped clean from an oak tree, like the ones outside of the town walls. I drew the wood out of the bag prudently, careful not to break the delicate object. "What's this," My question came out more like a statement.

She smiled awkwardly and looked away when I studied the wooden object. At first it just looked like plain bark, dirtied and fragile. But a closer look revealed a small design, maybe distinct writing, carved into the brown exterior shell of the bark.

She finally got over her discomfiture and got out of her chair to sit next to me, examining the bark. "Remember when you gave me the knife? And I said I was gonna carve something?"

I nodded, turning the bark over slowly in my hands. It was supposed to be writing, I realized, but it was unfinished and nearly illegible. "Yeah, you were carving it when Daryl came," I looked up and winked at her. "And then I saved your ass."

Enid rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Saved my ass? I'll have you know, we're still in some deep shit." Despite the circumstances, I chuckled weakly.

"I never got to see what you were carving," I continued, running my thumb across the surface of the object.

"Do you have a marker?" She suddenly asked. It was unclear to me how this was in any way related to the discussion, but I still got up to grab my bag. ""Yeah,, somewhere in here…" I dug through it a bit until I discovered a thick black pen. It wasn't quite as good as a marker might've been, but it was a writing utensil nonetheless. "Well, there's this,"

She took it without a word and began tracing over the carvings. She was right; it was easier to see with the marker over it, so I'm glad she did. On the bark, she had carved 'Enid and Carl are still alive'. It was sort of like our catchphrase; we said it whenever something bad happened. Like the time we accidentally let a walker into the safe-zone. That was bad… But we got it before it did anything too harmful.

I smiled at her, taking the bark and examining it closer. It made me feel bad, since I'd jerked her away from the tree so quickly that she couldn't even finish what she was doing. In the end, it didn't even matter, since we got caught anyway. "But now it's not on the tree,"

She shrugged and I noticed a devious look on her face. "We'll get it the next time we go out there."

I chuckled and set the bark delicately onto the top of my open backpack. "How long have I been in here?" Nobody had even told me yet.

"Three days,"

"What? I was unconscious for that long? It wasn't even that bad of an injury,"

"No, you were in and out of consciousness. They had you so doped up, though; I'm not surprised you don't remember,"

Now, that I believed. It didn't even come as a surprise to me; the time Daryl got my jaw I was in here for almost a week. It happened to be the same week that Maggie had her baby… A week of endless screaming and crying; it was pure torture. "Anything exciting happen?"

Nothing exciting ever happened. Ever. Yet they expected us to just sit here inside the walls like everything was all fine and dandy? It was bad enough we had to go back to school, and I skipped out on that more often than not.

"Actually yes," Well, that sure came as a surprise. Even with the lack of common excitement in the town, Enid was still very unenthusiastic. Don't get me wrong, she was a happy person, she just wasn't easily excited. "The woman that put you in here? She's gone missing. They're out in the woods looking for her, but so far no signs,"

"Really? Do they know why she might have left?" She seemed more like the kind of person who would lock everyone in cages in a basement, burn the whole town down, kill us slowly, then run away. I guess not.

"Nope, once they got here in and calmed her down she asked to be left alone for a minute. Had to get her story straight," Enid pushed a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "Next thing they knew, she was gone."

It was interesting, just not much of my intrigue. I'd jump at the chance to hit her upside the head with something bigger and harder than a stick, but if she was already lost outside the walls then it was only a matter of time before she died, anyway. "Oh. Anything else?"

"I think there's a new girl, Daryl brought her back a little while after you got hit. I haven't seen her, though."

"You think she's got something to do with the other girl? The missing one?"

"Not sure. From what I heard, she's claiming she has no relation to the woman.

"From what you've heard…"

A guilty look flashed over her face, but it quickly morphed into triumph. "I did some eavesdropping,"

"Without me?" It was like our tradition to eavesdrop on every new member's interview. Casual citizens weren't allowed to see or hear the interview, only the council members and other people of high ranks were permitted. And hey, what can I say? We got curious. People said things to Deanna that they never said to us. We were the only other people who knew those things that they told Deanna.

"Sorry, I didn't want us to miss it. But that's all I heard."

"Oh," I acted hurt that she did it without me, but really I didn't care. It was actually kind of nice to be able to relax for a while. "Is that it?"

"Umm… Yeah, pretty much." That same strand of hair fell in front of her face and she pushed it back again. "When do you get out of here?"

"I dunno. They say I have to ask the doctor,"

"Then ask the doctor," She asserted, standing up and taking the empty paper bag with her. "I'll be at my house waiting for whenever you've been released from captivity and into the wild."

I chuckled. She had a nice sense of humor, though she used it selectively.

I dreaded when the time would come when I had to return home; I wasn't ready for my dad's anger yet. He'd start yelling, Judith would start crying, the neighbor's dogs would start barking, dad would get angrier and start yelling at the neighbors… Maybe he'd cool down bit if I just spent the night at Enid's.

Doctor Bryce reluctantly let me out, saying he'd take my word for it when I told him I felt better and sent me out with an ice pack and a bandage. I whipped through the town to Enid's house, seeing my dad several times on the street and narrowly dodging him.

An empty driveway hinted that Enid was home alone. She lived with the Erics, a new family that had moved in several months ago. They usually had four bicycles in the driveway, two for the parents, one for their nine year old son Reece, and one for Enid. The only one still remaining was Enid's rusty gray bike. She usually opted to stay home while her adopted family rode around the town looking for something interesting to do.

I knocked on the door, three knocks. No answer. I couldn't even hear her coming down the stairs like I usually could when she was there. So I knocked again, three knocks. Still no answer.

"Enid?" I called, hoping if she was in there she'd hear me or wake up if she was asleep. I waited a minute, but still nothing. No sound, no responses—the house seemed to be empty. The front door was locked. I circled around and tried the back gate, which was locked as well. But that was easy to climb. Actually, I could just jump it.

The backyard seemed normal, a few lawn chairs circling around a rarely used fire pit and a large tree with a work-in-progress treehouse nestled in the top. It was a project that Reece and his dad had been working on. They invited Enid to help out, but she turned down the offer without hesitation.

The stairs to the back porch creaked as I walked up them slowly. Their house cat walked up behind me and rubbed on my leg with a loud, hungry meow. "Beat it, fat ass," I snapped, gently kicking the fat tabby cat.

The porch door was unlocked, luckily; otherwise I might've had to pop the screen out. Everything seemed to be normal. All the blinds in the house were drawn shut, like always, but still no sound emitted from the house.

Like the porch door, the back door was unlocked, granting me a full access entryway to the tidy home. "Enid? Are you here?" I called again. Something faint sounded from upstairs, like something falling over.

I raced up the stairs, my worry growing more and more intense by the second. It was hard to decide which bedroom of the four to check. Since Enid was the only one in the house that I actually cared about, I wandered into her bedroom first.

The chipped door made a squeaking sound as I pushed it open. It swung open, slowly, revealing her room as normal. Some dirty laundry laying on the floor in various placed around the room, a partially made bed, a desk covered in dirty dishes and stray papers. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.

I was about to exit the room when I heard a soft bumping sound against the closet door. There was no way for me to know who—or what—it was, so I approached it slowly. The closer I grew to the closet the more clearer I heard a soft weeping sound; Enid. I'd never heard her cry before. Hell, she barely ever even laughed, let alone cry.

"Enid?" I whispered from right outside the closet door, not wanting to open it until I had her consent. She might not want me to see her crying. "Enid, it's Carl,"

She sniffed and tried to hide that she was crying. I could tell by the way her voice changed; it was deeper but more nasally. "Carl," She bumped against the closet door again. "Carl, I'm okay,"

"What happened? Can you come out?" I continue to whisper, although I'm not sure why.

She pushed open the door and I saw her sitting on the ground with her legs bent out. She had a blanket draped over her legs, but she showed no signs of being injured. I leaned down and took her into my arms, whispering to her as she buried her face in my neck. "Enid, what happened?"

She broke out into full on sobbing. I slid my backpack off of my shoulder and took her into a tighter embrace with both arms. My head was turned so my nose was in her hair. I closed my eyes, miserable to see her this upset. "Enid…" I whispered again, knowing that I had to pull the truth out of her. When I didn't receive a response I decided she needed a minute to calm down before she was ready to confess.

I picked her up and lifted to her onto her bed, laying her down gently and sitting next to her. I wasn't used to comforting people, and I proved to not be very good at it, but I stroked her hair and rubbed her back like my mom used to do to me when I was upset.

Enid continued to sob, choked breaths escaping her mouth between failed attempts at sentences. She grabbed my hand that I was using to stroke her hair and held it tight, drawing it in near her stomach and squeezing it so hard that it actually hurt. "You're hurting me," I finally fessed up after a minute or two. She released my hand and sat up, her sobs slowing down. Even as she stopped crying tears still streamed from her dark brown eyes.

"Sorry," She muttered, wiping her running nose. "I, umm…" She held back another sob.

"Calm down," I breathed to her, taking her hand into my own again.

"I saw something," She finally managed to choke out. "Something that…" The sobs started back up again. I felt bad for forcing it out of her, but I knew she had to talk about it at some point. Better sooner than later.

"What was it?" Her hand was weak in mine, unlike just a moment ago when she was squeezing it so hard that my circulation was almost cut off. "Talk to me, Enid…"

"Something bad," She began talking even through her sobs. It was hard to decipher what she was saying but I understood how upset she was and therefore it might be a while before she'd be able to talk right. "Jonathan, Reece, Kayla… I saw them… They were…" Jonathan and Kayla were her adopted parents, and Reece was their child—furthermost her adopted brother. She turned around and grabbed me again, pressing the side of her face against the side of mine as she cried. She didn't even seem ashamed anymore, now she was just desperate for help.

"Dead," I finished for her because I knew she couldn't say it on her own. "Were they dead?"

"Yeah," She sobbed. I felt her tears roll down onto my shoulder, leaving a temporary damp spot on my gray T-shirt. "They were dead, Carl."

"Okay," I comforted her. "Okay. I'll be right back," I released her from my embrace and began my way back down the light wooden stairs. The house seemed to empty, knowing that the family who lived here wouldn't be back.

I never liked them, to be honest. They were like one of the Stepford wives families. Stay home mom, working dad… Perfect. Too perfect. The kind of family that seemed to have no problems.

Then again, that's what everyone thought about Jesse and Pete.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around the house. Even their house was perfect during a zombie apocalypse. Makes me sick.

Their fridge was mostly empty with the exception of a few water bottles, a large plastic cup full of milk, and dairy drawers filled of fruits and vegetables. I grabbed a half filled water bottle from where it sat on a shelf in the door. Aside from that I also let the cat, Gracie, inside and grabbed a box of tissues. Gracie had taken a keen liking to Enid, but the relationship wasn't exactly mutual. But at this point I was willing to try anything to get my best friend to feel better.

What do you give a crying girl whose family just died? Chocolate? A hug? Space? I can't think of anyone who would know, and I sure as hell didn't know.

I retreated back up the stairs and back into Enid's room. I found her curled up under the covers sobbing. She lifted up the covers when she heard me coming and almost grimaced at the sight of the cat. "Ew, get that little shit out of here," Yep, even in crisis there's her infamous sense of humor.

"Thank god, the thing weighs like thirty pounds." I pointed out, setting the cat down outside the room and slamming the door.

She fell back onto the bed and I pulled a tissue from the plain white tissue box. She took it when I handed it to her and used it to wipe her eyes from tears and then her nose.

"I'm really sorry," I made another attempt at comforting her by picking her up and laying her head on my lap. "We'll find whoever did it, I promise."

Enid repositioned herself up and looked at me. "That's not why I'm upset,"

Despite our close friendship I grew suspicious of her. Why else would she be so upset, other than the demise of her new family. "Then... Why?"

She took a minute of looking at me, tears welling up in her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered, and right before she burst into another explosion of tears and sobs, she starting breathing heavily. "Because I killed them."

A.N. Sorry it took me a while to get this uploaded, it took me some time to write. Please keep reviewing! x