There is no cure (Carl Grimes)

Chapter 13

I wake up later than usual. It must at least be noon when I awake. Someone did the laundry, because there are my dirty clothes nicely folded on my mattress. I grab them, and decide to wash up in the showers. I run over to the showers slowly getting out of my dirty clothing. The cool water sprinkles down my body as I rinse the dirt off. I turn the water off too soon, and I throw on the leggings, and the red and black plaid shirt I wear all the time, and my boots. I strap my weapons on, and head outside. My hair is still soaking wet dripping water as I walk out of the building. I put my hair in a braid, and throw it to the side. I see Carl walking back into the building. I walk behind him, and tackle him to the floor. I am pinning him to the floor, as a gun is raised to my head. His face flashes with worry, but he throws the gun down, and smiles. I pin his shoulders down, as his legs kick to get up.

"One. Two." He easily flips me over, as I squirm under him.

"One. Two." I grab his collar, and kiss him. I throw him under me so I am on top, as our lips meet again. I pull away, and start to count.

"One. Two. Three." He looks at me devilishly.

"Cheater." He grumbles.

"I win." I help him up, and stare at his new clothing. He is wearing a blue, and black plaid button up shirt, with dark jeans, and his sheriff's hat.

"Nice shirt." I laugh.

"Blue is better than red." He sticks his tongue out at me.

"Red is better on me." I shrug. He places his arms around my waist slowly bringing me in. I wrap my arms around his neck. I slowly lean in to kiss him, but I hear gasps, and light panicking. We pull away, and see it. The massive tank pointing right at us, and the people with guns. A man with an eye patch comes out. Even with out the eye patch I know who that is. The man who killed my brother. The Governor.

We run up to the gates along with everyone else listening to Rick, and the Governor talk. Hershel is being dragged out, along with Michonne. This isn't good. I grab Carl's hand. Things go by dreadfully slow. Daryl is handing everyone guns, and I am ready to shoot at any moment.

"I can end this right now." Carl says squinting into his scope.

"No, wait." I tell him. Everything is in slow motion. He is talking to Rick, but only one word is mumbled out before we go to war. Hershel's head flies off, and Michonne runs off. A gasp escaped my lips. Maggie, and Beth are screaming, and crying while shooting. Everyone is shooting. Carl pushed me out of the way, and behind a wall.

"There is no way you are getting shot again." Carl says.

"Go get the children, and put them on the bus." Carl demands.

"What?! No. I am not leaving you." I shake my head.

"Stop being so stubborn for once." He says harshly.

"Please." He adds begging. I kiss him, and run off.

Screaming, and crying children are in the prison scared. I drag them with me to the buses. No one gets hurt, but then I see the tank take down the gates as it fire into the building. I grab the gun Daryl gave me, and shot the people siding with the Governor. The walkers roamed into the prison now that the gates were down. People are scattered around, and all I see are dead rotting faces. The buses are gone, and I am lost. Carl. Daryl. Rick. Beth. Maggie. Glenn. Anyone. I'm alone again. Run Mary. We need to run, and catch up with someone. So I do. I run again. I run from the walkers, the fire, and the Governor. I always end up alone running. Me, the weapons, the walkers, and nature.

"Hurry up Mary! Get your ass movin'." I whisper- shout to myself. I hurry before the walkers start coming, and leave the prison.

Tears are falling from my face when I start to walk. I left Daryl again. I left Carl. I look at the scattered leaves, and see foot prints. They were here. They are straight. They were definitely not walkers. I run following them trying to keep up, but I doubt I will find them. I follow the trail of scattered leaves, and faint foot steps. Night is approaching, and I am out here with no water, or food. I climb up a decent tree, and stay quiet. I don't let sleep creep in, because I know the nightmares will appear, and I don't have Carl.

"Kiss me." The words he begged. Our first kiss laying down on the same bed close together. The way his chest fell, and rose heavily, as he begged for the taste of my lips. The feel for my lips, but secretly I longed for his. The taste of his sweet lips, and the feel of his soft lips. It was only seconds, but it felt like it was eternity. The electricity feeling at his touch. The warm feeling in my stomach every time he smiled, or laughed.

The brightness of the sun hurts my eyes, but I climb down, and start to run. The tracks are gone thanks to the walkers. I try to go straight following the same direction. White smoke fills the air, as the fire dies out. Someone was here! I follow their faint tracks, and start to wonder around the woods. This is hopeless if I keep resting at night, while they keep running around all day. I will need to look at night. I continue to walk trying to figure the whose tracks they are.

The days go by, and I have given up hope. Although, I still try to follow the faint tracks. I wound up in a cabin filled with food, and soda. It is a little creepy to know that the person here tried to fix walkers, and had a coffin for them. I shake off the thought, and dig into the cabinets for food. I grab a two liter soda bottle from the tree, and a jar of peanut butter. I gulp down the soda, and chew on the peanut butter. Its creamy moisture melts in my melt, and drowns in coke. I look outside, and the sun is still up and shinning.

"Sleep well?" Rick's mocking voice plays in my head.

"Well you are his age. I did expect you two to develop feelings eventually." Rick was okay with us being together. Even if we weren't really together. Well we can't anymore. I just hope he made it out alive.

"How are ya?" I begin to talk to the big guy again.

"Please tell me you got some kind of plan." I sigh. The silence is already ringing in my ears. It is a dreadful loneliness silence that I can not take for another two years. I let out a frustrated sigh as I kick the cabinet.

"Put your weapons down." A familiar accent demands. I turn to face him, and I can not believe my eyes. The one and only Daryl Dixon.