There is no cure (Carl Grimes)

Chapter 8

The days are shorter, and the nights seem to be longer. I got my old room back with Carl. The prison has changed, and there are more people here now. I didn't have a choice too; I had to stay in the same cell as Carl. Daryl made me go around, and meet everyone. There was obviously Daryl, Glenn, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Glenn's girlfriend; Maggie, her sister Beth, her father Hershel, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, Patrick, Lizzie, Mika, other kids, and other people that weren't with them. The outside was different. They had crops, they had people who worked the fences, guarded the towers, and took care of the animals. Rick got this place in shape. I got to give it to Officer Friendly.

It's almost midnight. The crickets chirp in the silence. The bunk above me dips a little. Carl's breaths are light, but he is not asleep. When he sleeps he snores, and he tosses and turns a few hours after he has slept. It has been a week since Daryl told me about Merle. Isn't it weird how people can be here one moment, then not. I mean he was just here. When I passed out, he was here; when I wake up he isn't. I just hate not knowing. I hate that the governor did this too him. And to think Merle trusted that one eyed shit faced bitch. I shake the thought away, and stare up at the bunk. I wish I could see the twinkling stars. I slowly, and quietly start to get out of bed. Carl is under his blanket with his flashlight. I tip-toe to the door, and run outside. The cool air hits my face, but it feels nice. I lay down in the grass, and stare up at the moon that is right above me.

"Merle why did you leave? Why didn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe, it was better off this way. I didn't even want to say goodbye anyways." I scoff.

I stare at the sky a little longer, longing for it's freedom. I just want to be in the sky far away from this. I want to be able to throw my wings into the sky, and soar. I want to be a star. I want to be able to come out at night, and guide you threw the night with my little light. I want to be a beautiful twinkling star, like Merle. He is gone, and now he is going to guide me threw this world. I know he is. Hard footsteps press against the floor, and I know someone is coming to get me, but I don't suspect it to be him. The bright blue eyed boy I haven't talked to in weeks. Shockingly, he lays beside me, and stares up into the stars. The silence isn't awkward, nor is it comfortable. The stars sit between us, as I try to look further into the sky. What is beyond the stars? Darkness; nothing.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" I look at Carl, as he asks me.

"Are you askin' for my opinion Grimes?" I ask with a small smile tugging at my lips, and he nods. I think about it for a while, before speaking.

"There is no end to our misery. But there is hope that one day some moron will kill em' all, right? Or that one day a genius will make a cure? We are all infected, and the walkers are dead. You can't fix dead. I mean normal isn't what life will ever go back to quickly. But I know that killin' the dead, and finding a damn cure for this is inevitable. Even if we survive; we are still goin' to have to live with ourselves." It is quiet for a while, but he finally speaks.

"You know, Mary. You're right, ending this will be inevitable; there will be no way that we walk out of this world before finding something to fix it." He surprisingly agrees with me.

"I guess I have been readin' to many books. You know what, I think this is the first time we talked without fightin'." I say, and he agrees, again.

We talked for hours, and didn't get into one fight. We disagreed about certain discussions, but we handled it maturely. The sun was starting to come up, and that was our cue to leave. We walk inside, and all we hear are screams. We look at each other, and run in with our guns raised. There are walkers everywhere roaming around the building. One by one, I shoot them down with the help of Carl, and everyone else waking up alarmed. I can see the little kids running around afraid.

"Carl you got my back?" He nods, and I run to grab the little boys, and girls that are screaming for their lives.

"Lock them inside a cell." Rick hands me the keys as I carry two small children. I close the cell door behind me, and check them for any bites, or scratches; they were fine. I lock them in, and run back out.

"Judith." He whispers.

"She's with Beth." I assure him, and run around shooting, and stabbing walkers. I feel a stinging pain in my leg. An arrow is in my thigh, and I let out a short gasp of pain. I look to see Daryl with his crossbow. I look around, and see the walker he missed beside me. Before I know it I am on the ground wrestling with the dead corpse. It's leg pushes the arrow deeper into my flesh, and I scream in agony. Blood is all over my chest, as the walkers face falls on me. I am being picked up, and the walker is being dragged out. I hold onto the cell door for balance. The excruciating pain in my thigh is agonizing. When I try to walk on it I nearly stumble back to the ground. Carl catches me, and helps me into a cell.

"Unlock the kids. They're in the last cell down here. Get Hershel just make sure he checks me last." I instruct Carl,

"Last?!" He looks at me crazy.

"I just got shot. I am fine." He nods, and runs out holding onto his sheriff's hat. I look at my thigh. The blood is seeping through my jeans leaving a vibrant red stain on my light jeans. I search for my knife, and cut the material above the arrow, and take it off. I slowly start to take out the arrow. I can feel all the meat in my thigh scream as I take it out. The pain in unbearable, and the bleeding wont stop. I let out a muffled scream, as I take it out. I press the cut off jean material onto my wound. The arrow has blood, and little bits of flesh on it. That's my arrow now. God, why am I always getting shot?!

I look around frantically. There was a full water bottle on the table. I cut off my sleeves of my flannel shirt, and bite down on it. Slowly, I take the bottle and pour water into the hole in my thigh! The water slowly goes deep into the hole leaving me groaning. I hear the loud steps of Hershel's leg, and I am relieved. He walks in, and he is lying down his medical belongings.

"I took it out, added pressure, and poured water on it." I grunted adding more pressure onto the wound.

"All by yourself?" He looks at me with his eyes wide open nearly popping out of his skull.

"I'm a Dixon. Merle cut off his own arm." I groan, as he adds more of the warm water. Carl runs into the room with Daryl.

"You okay?" He asks, and I nod slowly, as I bite down on the clothing, hard.

The bleeding eventually stops, and the wound is treated. Next was sewing it up. The needle, the thread, the healing. I hated it. Hershel warns me, as the needle pierces in, and out of my skin. I scrunch my nose each time I feel the metal. Daryl stays by me the whole time making sure everything is okay. I just hope if I pass out I will wake up, and be able to see my brother again.

"All done. You have to stay off that leg of yours." Hershel sends his orders.

"Can I get your crutches?" I bit my lip hopefully, and he nods. In no time Carl is down with them. Daryl helps me to my feet, as I try not to fall on my face. I make my way towards the dining area, and back, and fourth for a while till I got used to it.

"Shot twice, and she lives." Glenn's voice appears behind me. I turn towards him.

"You sound shocked." I pretend to feel hurt, but I ain't. I feel something on my head. It is Carl's sheriff's hat.

"Welcome to the I've been shot group." He laughs flipping his hair to the side, and combing it.

"No offense, but I never wanted to join." I giggle.

"None of us did." He says chuckling. Carl's blue eyes are clearer to see now that the hat isn't hovering over his eyes, and the way his hair is slid to the side you can see his face. I adjust the hat, and hold onto the crutches. Daryl looks at Glenn, and they walk away. Weird. I take the hat off, and place it on his head.

"I don't think the whole sheriff thing is my look, Grimes." I place it on his head lightly, and he adjusts it.