Reviews:

BabySlothXYaoi- I love writing Ty, he's just so pure and kind. Karen was my favourite to write, now Tyreese is. There's something about Karen and Ty getting high together that just brought me all the joy. Maybe one day I'll write a scene of it, make it part of a dream sequence or have Ty describe it, I want to write it so bad. The reason I write less for people like Rick and Daryl is that their characters are already so well defined... Writing for characters like Tyreese or Karen or Sasha is like filling in a colouring book, the show gives them an interesting exterior, then I get to fill in the lines with whatever story and flair that I like. I won't spoil anything obviously, but I promise I will always write the story that I think will make Rhys more interesting, whether that is following the storyline of the show, or whether it means that I save people and keep them in the story, I will always make it about Rhys' (and Carl's) character. Glad you like the bracelets, and jeez, I haven't thought about loom bands in a long time, those were amazing! Ahh, thank you for all the kind words!

Guest- I'm very glad you think so! It's always nice to hear that people are enjoying where they're at. :)


Full title: Chapter 34- What Happened and What's Going On: Walker Kryptonite.


There's a sign on the road ahead-

Hilda and Johnny's Fun Fair and Circus!

Two Miles Ahead.

This Way To The Fun!


Rick radio's us from the white van ahead, telling us we're stopping at the funfair.

None of us expects to find any fun there, but Tara seems excited.

"Dude, what if there's cotton candy?!"


Abraham pulls our minivan up behind the white van outside the funfair entrance. A rattling noise is worryingly loud below our feet, which we've all been ignoring for the past twenty minutes.

Everyone is out of the van, waiting for us.

The gates to the funfair are decorated to look like a clown's face, and the word 'Welcome!' is written above it in bold red paint that hurts my eyes to look at. Thanks to the weather, the welcome sign has gone the same way that most signs have now, the painted letters reading- 'Wel_om_!'

"Sweet," Tara exclaims as she hops out of the van. "I've always wanted to visit Welom!"

Tara's fun falls short when Eugene tells her that the gates are locked, and the place sounds like it's overrun by the dead.

"The Shirewilt Estate is ten miles up, so we're stopping here." Rick gets everyone's attention with his authoritative voice. "Just in case something goes wrong, I'm going to take Michonne and Glenn to scout this place out."

"What would go wrong?" Noah asks him, sounding offended that Rick would question his home.

Rick repeats himself. "Just in case."

"I'm coming with you," Noah tells him.

"It'll be better if-"

"It's my home. Please."

Rick sighs and nods, giving in.

"I'll come too," Tyreese steps up. "I can drive."

Rick lets out another long sigh before he nods again.

Everyone is about to get to work setting up a perimeter.

"Me too."

Now everyone's looking at me. Rosita smirks at me while Sasha gives me a strange scowl. Carl just stares, his face indecipherable. I look between them all before looking back to Rick, determination on my face as I repeat, "Me too."

"You sure?" Rick ask.

"I am."

Rick gives out a very long breath, and I worry he might deflate from all these demands.

"Please?" I know I sound desperate.

Rick glances at Michonne, who just shrugs. "I'm fine with it," she tells him.

Rick presses his thumb into his temple as if trying to suppress a persistent headache.

He nods one last time, "We're leaving in a few minutes."


Everyone starts to set up a defence around the funfair entrance, Sasha climbing a ticket booth with her sniper rifle.

I find Carl sitting on the step of the van like his father had back in the parking lot.

I lean against the van's door, "Hey, listen-"

"I'm not mad," Carl cuts me off calmly.

"You're not?"

"Nope." He fishes through a bag with his free arm, Judith sitting in his other, impatiently clapping her hands.

Why?" I ask.

"Because I know why you need to go."

I'm confused now. "You do?"

"Yeah, you're still scared to stop moving," Carl tells me.

I just drag my foot along the floor in the shape of a semi-circle, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"It's fine, I understand, really I do... Just come back," Carl tells me.

"Hopefully, this will work out, and you'll come to us." I smile.

Carl seems to appreciate this optimism.

He finally finds what he was looking for in the deep bag, Gwendolyn the blue giraffe in his hand when it emerges, he hands it to Judith and stands up. I hug him tight, careful not to squish Judith as she laughs between us and blows raspberries.

Carl doesn't let go, even when I do. Instead, whispering in my ear, "You can't keep running forever. Eventually, we have to stop."

I pull away. "I know."

"See you soon, man."

"You will," I turn to leave when Rick calls to me, only to be stopped by Carl's voice.

"You're forgetting something," Carl throws my poncho to me from the back of the van.

"Thanks," I nod, putting it on.


The car keeps bouncing between potholes as we draw closer.

Rick flicks the walkie-talkie on with a click.

"Hey, Carol," he says into the staticky sounding device.

"I'm here," Carol's voice crackles out of it in response.

"We're halfway there. Just wanted to check the range."

"Everybody is holding tight. We've made it five hundred miles. Maybe this can be the easy part."

"Gotta think we're due. Give us 20 minutes to check in."

"We don't hear from you... we'll come looking."

"Copy that."

Static humming plays through the speaker until Rick switches the walkie off and clips it onto his belt. The same belt that is starting to look like something from one of Carl's comics, only instead of a grappling gun and a little green rock, Rick has a hand cannon and his red-handled machete, like some kind of walker kryptonite.

Michonne is sat to my right, watching the road ahead with her head against the grimy window. Rick, on my left, is asking Noah how much further. I try not to annoy either of them, staying very still on the claustrophobic middle seat. I get a tap on my shoulder, so I crane my neck round to face Glenn, who is sitting in the very back of the minivan. He asks me to hand him a case of CDs sitting on the dashboard. I lean forward and grab them, poking my head past the front seats where Noah and Tyreese are sitting, Tyreese driving while Noah points the way. I hand Glenn the CDs.

"Mind if I use the radio?" I ask Rick, bored of trying not to bother anyone.

Not seeing any harm coming from it, Rick hands the walkie-talkie to me, telling me not to give any specifics over the open channel.

I switch it on, static plays until I hold down the talk button. "Hello..." I hesitate, "over." I'm hoping with everything I have that Carol doesn't pick up the other end... and now I'm thinking this way a bad idea.

It takes a moment for the response to come through. "Rhys?" It's Tara that answers.

"Yeah... me," I say awkwardly until I realise no one in the car is really listening. Everyone too preoccupied. "Find any candy floss?... over."

Static.

"You mean cotton candy." Tara chuckles, the crackling of the radio making it sound strange and distorted.

"Sure," I shake my head. Hoping she can sense my disapproval. "Over."

"We haven't, no," she sounds disappointed, "but if this estate works out, we can come back and get it someday... also you don't have to keep saying over."

"Yeah, maybe even-"

Tara swears down the talkie, cutting me off and telling me that Rosita's calling her over. There's a rough shambling noise playing over the speaker, which I can only assume is the sound of the talkie changing hands, until... "Hello?" the unmistakable sound of Eugene's monotone comes through the receiver.

"Hi Eugene," I respond, amused by his voice.

"I am well aware that this is Rhys... but I still stand firm to my suggestion of call signs... code names as it is."

I laugh at this without holding down the talk button. Michonne gives me an ever so slightly amused side-eye.

"Okay," I respond to Eugene, "I'll be... Poncho."

Michonne turns her head this time, shaking her head, "Not very creative..."

"Because you wear a Poncho," Eugene radios. "Short, memorable, and to the point. I approve." I raise my eyebrows at Michonne and try to look smug. "I'll be Tater Bug," Eugene adds, not offering any explanation.

"Okay well, could you put Carl on, Tater Bug?"

"That's a copy, Poncho."

The sound of the walkie changing hands happens again.

"Rhys?" Carl comes through the speaker.

"That's poncho, to you, Stetson," I smirk, hoping he can somehow hear it.

"Poncho?"

"That's my call sign..."

"Call sign, huh?"

"Yup."

We fall silent for a moment, radio static between us. I imagine Carl standing with the radio, looking as awkward as I probably do.

"So, I was thinking about what you told me," I finally tell the radio, "about running."

"Yeah?"

"And stopping."

"Okay."

"I just wanted to say that I do hope this works out. I know I said it at the school, but I don't think you believed me."

"I did."

"Okay then," I let go of the button to take a deep breath. "I don't think I believed me."

"How about now?"

"I'm trying."

The static plays again, neither of us speaking.

After a while, Carl breaks the radio silence. "Stay safe."

"You too."

Rick takes the walkie back when I hand it to him, clipping it back onto his utility belt. I lean back, staring at the road.

"I've been wanting to tell you something," Noah tells Tyreese softly in the front seats. None of the rest of us wants to eavesdrop, but it's a small minivan.

"What's that?" Tyreese asks, keeping his eyes on the empty road.

"The trade... It was the right play."

I can feel the mood drop.

Tyreese tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

Sasha told me about the plan at Grady during one of our shooting lessons. Rick wanted to kill people, and Ty wanted to make an even trade. They went with Ty's idea. No one blames Tyreese for Beth dying. It just happened.

"It went the way it had to," Tyreese says as if reading my mind and stealing the thoughts inside. "The way it was always going to."

"I've never wanted to kill anyone before," Noah tells him.

Sasha also told me how Daryl shot the lady in charge, Dawn. She shot Beth, so Daryl shot her. It went the way it had to.

"I've wanted that." Tyreese glances at me in the rearview mirror as he talks to Noah. "But it just made it so I didn't see anything except what I wanted. I wasn't facing it."

Facing it? What Carol did to Karen, how do you face that? He wants me to face that... or face her?

Once again, my thoughts are put into words by someone else.

"Facing what?" Noah asks him.

"What happened... What's going on," Tyreese says, his eyes on the road. "My dad always told Sasha and me that it was our duty as citizens of the world to keep up with the news. When I was little, and I was in his car, there were always those stories on the radio. Something happens a thousand miles away or down the block. Some kind of horror I couldn't even wrap my head around." Everyone's listening to Tyreese closely, every word. "He didn't change the channel. He didn't turn it off. He just kept listening... to face it... Keeping your eyes open. My dad always called that, paying the high cost of living."

Tyreese glances over his shoulder at me, snapping his eyes back to the road when he gets my attention.

"I know you're trying," Tyreese says aloud. Noah nods, not knowing that what Tyreese says now, he says to me. "I've said it before, but, forgiveness, that's facing it."

Everyone else just tries to look like they can't hear the conversation, not wanting to think about that scary word... before. I just sink into the middle seat, rubbing my wrist anxiously, Carl and Karen's bracelets knocking against each other.

Noah picks the conversation up from the floor before the car leaves it behind on the side of the road. "I lost my dad in Atlanta. I think he would have liked yours."

Ty smiles at him, nodding in agreement.

Noah twists in his seat to look back at me. "Your old man still around?"

I shrug the best I can while squashed between a hand cannon and a katana.

"Last I heard, he was in DC. Could be dead, though." I say matter of factly.

Michonne brings her head back to the car, staring at me. "That why you wanted to go with Abraham?" She asks me. She sounds annoyed like I should have said something.

"No," I answer honestly.

Rick looks at me too but doesn't say a word, squinting at me before looking away. I just keep looking straight. Feeling awkward between the questioning looks.

"Still got a Mom." Noah once again saves the conversation. "And a couple of twin brothers... I hope."

He looks back at me again, asking with his eyes the second time around.

I answer. "My Mum stayed in England. I hope I still have one too."

Noah nods at my answer. Twidling his thumbs in his lap.

Tyreese looks at us both, "I hope so too."

"Two more miles," Noah tells Rick. Bringing him out of a cold stare that he'd been giving the radio.

"All right," Rick taps Ty's shoulder. "Let's pull into the woods. We'll go on foot. Stay off the road."

Noah narrows his eyes, frustrated. "We don't need to."

Rick nods, looking like he might ignore Noah for a moment. He finally lets out the words, "Just in case."

I hear the sound of shattering plastic as Glenn snaps one of the CDs behind me.


We leave the minivan hidden in the tree line, disguised beside a car accident that happened long ago, Rick hoping that at a glance, our vehicle will look like part of the wreck.

Not far from the wreckage, as we begin to trek through the woods, I notice a body that lies in the undergrowth, just bones now, with grass growing through the rib cage, a withered daisy sprouting in an eye socket. I look elsewhere and speak to Tyreese as we walk at the back of the group, out of earshot from the others.

"I am trying to face it," I tell him gently, thinking back to what he said in the car. My teeth grit slightly, "But how can I not hate her? How could I forgive her?"

Tyreese points to the silver bracelet on my wrist. "Would she want you to hate Carol?"

This irritates me since we both know the answer. "No," I grumble.

"Then why hate her, If it's not for Karen?" Tyreese, ask me calmly.

My grinding teeth make my voice harsh. "I keep trying to think about Karen," I tell him, "I try to see her smile or remember the smell of that perfume she liked... but I just can't. Sometimes, when Carl falls asleep, I just lie awake for hours, trying with everything I have to remember any of it. But I don't. All I can remember is how Carol made her look. I see her face missing, and I smell that smoke."

Tyreese looks at me, his deep eyes so sad.

"I can still see her," he tells me, watching my face closely. Then Ty goes very quiet, something he doesn't often do.

Between the trees ahead, I can see wires running between trunks and wrapped around branches, creating a web on steel. Each cord looks sharp. Michonne spots it too.

"Your people do this?" She turns to Noah as we step closer.

"Wanted to," Noah tells her with a smile on his face. "They must have."

With no dangers in our sight, we navigate through the entanglement of wires. While I duck under the last one, I'm careful not to let my satchel catch, but instead, my poncho snags on one, pulling against it. Noah helps me untangle myself, the wire bouncing up and catching his face. A small amount of blood trickles from a fresh cut on his forehead.

"Shit, sorry." I reach into my bag, searching for some kind of first aid, getting no such luck.

"It's okay," Noah winces, holding his palm to the cut.

"Don't touch it," Glenn warns him. "It'll get infected."

"Don't worry," Noah says as he wipes away some blood that has seeped onto his eyelid. "I'll patch it up when we get there."


A/N

Just out of curiosity, are people enjoying the length of the longer chapters like this one, or the slightly shorter chapters, like the previous two?

Reviews and Feedback are always welcome!

:)