Chapter 13

The pale golden sun dripped with light as the fog encircling the earth blanketed it out, like a mother bidding her child goodnight and turning out the light. The chill of winter were becoming rarer and rarer as the days became lighter but, as if to emphasise the unpredictability of the undead world, occasionally the sun would vanish and a cold breeze would emerge triumphantly. With the frost now a distant memory, plants, greenery were beginning to recover. Carl was beginning to recover.

The dull pain of loss was still present in his chest, but with each passing day it numbed slightly. Now, he was beginning to get on with his life- if you could call fighting the undead a life- and the pain of Ashley's demise was now bearable. It wouldn't do to dwell on pain in the end of the world. Pain meant anger. Anger meant stupidity. Stupidity meant death. Or worse still- becoming one of the hordes of the undead prowling the husks of the earth. It was fair to say Carl had decided he wanted to live. Maybe someone else had helped slightly...

''Life pisses me off,'' growled Carl as he stood in the middle of the woods, his temper boiling. ''All mom ever does is tell me what to do. Yeah, we get it; you're pregnant but you don't have to include the rest of the universe in it. Like, seriously. Can't she even walk to get her own drink? Have I got 'servant' written on me?''

Beth blinked at the enraged Carl. Over the past few weeks Beth and Carl had gone on walks together. It wasn't intentional; in fact it only began by accident, when they both found they needed space from the group and bumped into each other in the woods. Carl had let his frustrations spill and Beth had offered consoling advice. Ever since then they'd made it their business to bump into each other and soon the 'advice walks' as Carl called them, had begun. Carl found Beth's sweet, welcoming gaze comforted him and he found himself telling her everything. Well, almost everything…

When Carl had calmed down, he took a seat next to Beth on a hollowed out log they'd found. It made for comfortable sitting thus they'd made it theirs. Somehow, it you could forget everything that had happened, they could be sat watching TV at home. Big if.

''Don't let it get to you,'' murmured Beth. ''Your mom is pregnant; she's tired and grumpy, a lot like you,'' she finished with a wink.

''I know,'' breathed Carl, ''but still. I don't like being a slave.''

''You think this is bad?'' questioned Beth. ''Wait until your brother or sister is born. You'll be running around all day to look after them. Enjoy this whilst it lasts.''

''If you say so,'' smiled Carl, already imagining his sibling.

''I do,'' nodded Beth. ''Are you okay now?''

Carl hesitated. Could he say what he wanted to say?

''Carl?'' queried Beth softly.

Carl closed his eyes and nodded to himself. He could trust Beth.

''I…I don't really know how to say it. It's just that…mom and Shane were close when dad was missing and I…I mean I just wondered…is my dad the baby's father?''

Beth was silent for a moment. That was new. Usually she'd be straight on it, giving advice and reassuring Carl immediately. But she wasn't this time. That bothered him.

Finally she spoke. ''It doesn't matter.''

Carl blinked in disbelief. '' 'It doesn't matter?' '' he repeated.

Beth nodded. ''It doesn't. I don't know who the father is. You don't. Heck, your mom might not herself. All that matters is now. Rick's there for that baby. He's going to look after it. No matter what. It's his, Carl. Don't doubt that.''

That reassured Carl briefly but the question kept repeating itself over and over again. Is Rick the father? Whatever Carl did, he couldn't escape the question.

Years later…

The question was burning in Carl's head now. Worse than ever. He was filled with anger. Judith was dead and it was Rick's fault. Beth had got it wrong. Rick couldn't look after her. But maybe Shane could have if he was still here. If Rick hadn't killed him…

His thoughts were interrupted by Rick pushing a couch against the door.

''I tied the door shut,'' lectured Carl.

''We don't need to take any chances,'' retorted Rick.

''You don't think it'll hold?''

Rick tried to calm him. ''Carl.''

''It's a strong knot. Clove hitch. Shane taught me. Remember him?''

Carl watched triumphantly as Rick's eyes darkened. That should serve him right for doubting him.

''Yeah, I remember him. I remember him every day. Do you have something you want to say to me?''

The question nearly forced itself from Carl's lips but he refrained. What was the point? Judith was dead and he was alone. Him and Rick. Alone at the end of the world…

Years ago…

As Carl and Beth walked back to camp side-by-side, a figure watched them from a tree. The figure was dangerous. It was filled with anger and thirsty for revenge. Following the farm, Carl had thought the dead were the most dangerous threat. How wrong could one person be?

''I've called you all here for a meeting,'' began Hershel.

Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Hershel were sat around the camp fire at the clearing. Decisions were needed and it was decided these 5 had the answers. The truth was none of them did but in a dangerous situation no one was going to admit that. Somehow clinging onto a shred of normality by talking out the future was the only thing separating the group from the undead.

The undead could walk. So could the living.

The undead could kill. So could the living.

In fact, the only thing the undead couldn't do is talk. Therefore, talking is key.

Rick sat silently, regarding Hershel with an almost exasperated look. Only Hershel could convince Rick that is was wise to talk things over following his 'this isn't a democracy' speech.

Ignoring Rick's silence, Hershel persevered. ''We need to decide whether our future lies here in the hollow or elsewhere. Can we decide this? I'd rather sooner than later.''

''We need someplace safe for that baby,'' murmured Daryl.

Maggie nodded. ''Is that place here?''

''Not many walkers,'' pointed out Daryl. ''Food, shelter. But it just don't sit right with me.''

''I know what you mean,'' nodded Glenn. ''We need somewhere safe, somewhere that feels like how things used to be.''

''Things aren't what they used to be,'' growled Rick suddenly, breaking his silence. ''We can't get society back to what it used to be. You should know that by now.''

''I do,'' retorted Glenn. ''I said 'feel' not be like things used to be. Anyway, it's your kid, shouldn't you want somewhere like that?''

''I do,'' agreed Rick. ''But leaving somewhere safe for the unknown is a risk.''

''And we're here to asses if that's a risk worth taking,'' interjected Hershel.

''I say we stay here until we receive a sign,'' suggested Maggie.

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

''Not like from God or anything.'' She flashed an apologetic look at Hershel. ''But a sign that this area is dangerous or there's something better out there. Either way.''

Hershel nodded. ''I can agree to that.''

The rest of the group nodded.

''Then it's settled.''

Glenn and Maggie stood up in unison and headed towards the camp entrance. Daryl followed suit leaving just Hershel and Rick. Hershel looked at Rick with a concerned expression before standing up, placing his hand on Rick's shoulder and leaving.

Rick didn't notice. He stayed sat, staring into the dying embers with sorrow, anger, but most of all, fear.

A/N: Sorry for not updating in agessss. I've been doing my final exams but I'm now done so the story should be completed in the next month. Only 2-3 chapters left. So please review because it's nearly over….