The air was fresh, and that was one of the best things she could say about the place. After being on the road and not smelling much besides rot and decay, it was nice to have a change. Carol sat at the end of the dock, having looked carefully into the water for a long time, and dangled her feet just above the surface. She hadn't wanted to take her shoes off in case they needed to leave quickly, but it was still nice.
Carl was laying on the dock next to her, stretched out on his stomach and staring over the edge at the little fish that swam beneath. He wiggled his fingers in the water occasionally, sending the little minnows scurrying for cover. He laughed a little and looked up at her. "I don't remember a lot from when I was a little kid, but I remember that we went camping sometimes. My mom hated fishing, but my dad and I would catch a bunch of fish and then we'd fry it for dinner. Like what Amy and Andrea did back at the quarry."
He turned, looking down into the water again. "We should do that for dinner tonight, if we could catch anything."
Carol glanced out across the water, to where Glenn and Rick were standing on the beach. They had rigged a long pole with netting on it into a fish trap. Glenn claimed that it was something he, Tara, and Rosita had done before they had given up on D.C. the first time. She gestured broadly toward the men, "Looks like someone else had the same idea."
She looked back down at Carl, watching as he looked across the beach. It was hard to reconcile this young man, who was taking on responsibilities on his own, with the boy she had met on a highway near Atlanta so long ago. "You've grown up so much since we met. Your mom would be proud of you, Carl, I know she would."
He looked up at her, tilting his head slightly, and she could tell that he was pleased with the comment but a little embarrassed too. "I'm just doing what we all have to do to survive together."