The Walking Dead: 8 months on the road- The Story of Carl
Chapter 7
Many weeks passed, and Carl continued to visit the town, and most importantly, visit Ashley. Carl had to limit himself to a maximum of 3 days a week visiting the town, as any more would result in Rick asking questions. So far he had been successful and no one in his camp has queried his whereabouts. With every day that passed, winter drew nearer to an end, although Carl knew it would be many weeks until the woods began to recover from the icy grip that the season had brought.
As the sun lightened the dark sky, Carl awoke, yawned and streched before shoving his stetson on his head, and crawling out of his bed. Stepping into the clearing the group called home, Carl saw Rick, Lori and Hershel deep in conversation on the far side of the hollow. Shit, Carl hissed under his breath. Today was the day he'd been planning on visiting the town, but with his parents stood with a clear view of the exit, Carl knew it would be stupid to even try. Spotting his son, Rick strided over to him, whilst Carl eyed Rick suspicously. What did his Dad want with him this early?
''Good to see you're awake, Carl,'' Rick began. ''I was wondering if you'd like to go on a supply run with me today? We're very low on supplies and it would be quicker if you helped. What'd you say?''.
Carl would have liked to tell Rick he was busy, but he knew he couldn't without giving away his true intentions. Feeling slightly angry, Carl realised Rick had deliberately asked him probably so he could keep an eye on him. He had no option.
''I'll come,'' Carl muttered grumpily.
''Okay then,'' Rick nodded, ''let's go then''.
''Now?'' Carl asked, ''but I haven't eaten yet''.
''No one has,'' Rick answered bluntly. ''We're out of food. You can eat when the group eats''.
''Fine then,'' hissed Carl as he stalked towards the entrance of camp. ''Let's go then''.
Sighing, Rick collected a rucksack, and followed his son into the gloomy forest.
''I wonder where Carl is,'' David pondered as he stood in the middle of his camp, with Ashley, Mark and James.
''He probably can't come today,'' Ashley answered confidently. ''I'm sure he'll be here tomorrow''.
''Hmm, maybe,'' wondered David.
''Or he's telling his people where we are and planning to attack,'' growled Mark aggressively.
''Carl wouldn't do that,'' gasped Ashley.
''Like you know him,'' hissed Mark sarcastically.
''I do actually,'' retorted Ashley.
David rolled his eyes. He had seen the growing relationship between Carl and Ashley. It didn't bother him, but when Carl became expendable, Ashley's reaction could be a whole different problem altogether. For now Carl was useful, and it didn't affect David what relationship, Carl had with Ashley. But the second his usefulness ran out, well... Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, David turned his attention to the argument between Ashley and Mark which was still going strong.
As Mark opened his mouth to respond to Ashley's retort, David decided to end it.
''Shut up, both of you,'' he bellowed.
Three sets of eyes turned to him.
''Right, Mark go and make yourself useful. Ashley likewise. But I don't want the two of you arguing again, okay?''
Waiting until both had muttered an agreement, David turned to James, and beckoned for him to follow. When both men had reached a secluded corner of camp, David began.
''Listen, James. I'm sorry about how things are between us. You've been giving me the cold shoulder for sometime now. You and Mark are my deputies. I need your support. If we're not even talking, well how can we protect our camp? How can we protect the group? So, what'd you say? Can we get things back to how they were?''.
For a moment things were silent. Then James responded.
''No''.
''What'd you mean, no?'' exploded David.
''How can we get things back?,'' hissed James. ''After you agreed to let Mark murder Carl? I looked up to you. Thought you were a great leader. But now... How can I follow you? How can I trust you? And how can I respect you?''
''It's only if he betrays us,'' said David, almost exhaustedly. ''I only said it to shut Mark up''.
''No, David. You're using Carl. As soon as he stops being useful, you murder him. Or as you put it 'dispose' of him''.
''Fine then, I admit. He's useful. But this is the end of the whole damn world. You don't survive by being nice. You survive by being ruthless and getting the job down. All these people are gonna survive because of me. Carl ain't in our group, so why the hell should I care if he lives or dies? Survival of the fittest''.
''You're evil,'' hissed James. ''You're doing this to keep Mark happy and because Carl is only useful to you in one way: collecting supplies. Once that's done, you stab him in the back''.
''Now you're getting it,'' smiled David wickedly.
''Yeah, well get this David. I'm gonna protect Carl. I'm gonna keep him alive. And as for being your deputy...''. James turned and spat on the floor. ''….I resign''.
Turning his back on David, James walked back into the centre of camp.
Furious, David followed him until he found Mark, alone behind one of the RV's on the edge of camp.
''We have a problem,'' growled David.
''I'm listening,'' said Mark, a vicious glint in his eye.
''It's James. I think his usefulness has run it's course...''
The rising sun cast stripes of light into the gloomy forest, slowly brightining the decaying tree trunks. Carl stalked moodily through the undergrowth, completely unaware of his surroundings. It was so unfair. He hadn't seen Ashley for days. Why did Rick have to interfear? He just wanted to be left alone. Looking back, he had seen Rick talking to his Mom and Hershel. Carl knew all three were worried about him. This was probably a team effort to make sure he was okay. He was fine, why did no one get that? He was brought back to senses by movement in front of him. Stopping in his tracks, Carl saw a walker heading aimlessly towards him. Unholstering his gun, Carl shot it straight through the head and watched it drop to the ground- dead. Turning his saw Rick had caught up with him, and was eyeing the dead walker cautiously.
''See,'' Carl gloated triumphantly. ''I can look after myself. I don't need you, Mom and Hershel watching me all the time.''
''I know you can, Carl,'' nodded Rick. ''But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be worried. This is a dangerous world now.''
''I know that,'' acknowledged Carl, ''I've lived in this world for as long as you. So why can't you accept I can look after myself?''
Rick was silent for a minute before uttering a word, Carl never expected his father to say ever again.
''Shane''
''Wha...what?'' asked Carl.
''Shane...Dale...Andrea...Sophia...''
It took Carl a moment to realise that Rick was reciting the names of their dead group members.
''Yeah. They're dead,'' said Carl bluntly. ''What about them?''
''They're dead,'' agreed Rick. ''And you're not. I need to protect you, Carl. We lost the farm. We don't have a place of safety. Already the odds aren't in our favour. But wandering off... that's just asking to die. We've all noticed, Carl. You keep disappearing. As long as you're safe, I don't care where you're going. But the question is: are you safe?''
What should he say? Rick knew. What if Rick followed him? Hershel had asked him something similar and he had created some lie about crying over the recent deaths. Hershel had barely believed it, so there was no chance Rick would. He couldn't tell Rick the truth, could he?
''I found this town,'' began Carl. ''It's really cool. There's no walkers and it sort of comforts me. There's no supplies there or anything but just seeing how things used to be... it helps me. I'm safe there. I promise.''
''So, you just go there and sit? Nothing else?'' questioned Rick.
''I just sit, I swear,'' Carl answered nervously.
''And you don't see anyone? No one alive?''
''Nope. No one. Just me,'' lied Carl.
Rick narrowed his eyes suspicously whilst Carl held his gaze, praying that Rick would buy his story. He had told the truth. Sort of. He had lied about there being no supplies and that he didn't see anyone. But he hoped that Rick would buy the half-truth he'd offered.
''Okay,'' said Rick finally. ''I believe you. You need somewhere to go- to get away from it all. I understand. Thank you, Carl for being honest.''
Rick had believed it! He was safe. Carl felt the knot in his stomach loosen and the breath he had been holding, release. That was until Rick spoke again.
''You can take me to this town at some point. Just so I can check it out. Once I've seen it, then I'll be happier letting you go.''
This couldn't be happening. If Rick entered the town, there was a high chance he'd run into David. Or Mark. Or even worse, Ashley. He'd be forced to tell Rick the truth and then he'd probably never see Ashley again.
''Is that ok, Carl?'' queried Rick.
''Tha...that's fine,'' stuttered Carl.
''Good,'' said Rick. ''We'll go when I'm next free. Should be in two or three days. I'll tell you when. Now, let's go get some food.''
''Okay,'' said Carl, letting Rick move past him and head deeper into the forest. He couldn't let Rick go into town. He couldn't. There was another option though. He could return to David's camp before Rick went into town and warn them to stay clear of town for a few days. It might work. It had to work. Deciding that was what he must do, Carl took a deep breath and followed his Dad into the heart of the forest.
Many miles away, in the centre of Atlanta, a group of walkers began walking. The food in the city had run out, and the movement of a stray dog had resulted in an army of walkers moving forwards. The dog disappeared but the walkers kept walking. In the far distance a town could be seen. And although it was many days, if not weeks, away, a walker mass was converging. Very soon, death would arrive in the town...
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