The Boy in the Sheriff Hat (Book 1)

Chapter 13 - Dad?

It was foreign, alien even, to both walk among the dead and feign calmness with every step. You either fought against, ran or hid from walkers, that's just how it was and it had become the most natural human instinct in the world. And now here I was trying to slow the beat of my heart lest they hear it, wipe the sweat from my brow lest they smell it. It felt wrong and unnatural... but I didn't stop; Carl's house was not too far but walking at the pace I must, it took a while to get there.

I eventually caught site of that familiar yellow door, even in darkness it seemed fluorescent. I neared the porch, carefully weaving through the walkers on the front lawn, and climbed the steps quietly. The heals of my boots clipped the wood as I went; even to my ears it was an alerting sound.

There came a sniffing sound behind me, and I froze.

I turned around to see a gruesome rotting face staring up at me. I had my dagger readied underneath my sheet. If I had to use it, I would... but it wouldn't have done much good if another walker heard my killing this one. It would become a vicious circle until I'd inevitably lose. The zombie had stopped sniffing the air but still stared at me. Half of its face looked as if it had been chewed off and one of its eyes hung limply in its socked.

After a few moments, it lost interest and carried on walking. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I realised I shouldn't – no noise nor sign of life lest they notice me.

I crept over towards the yellow door, taking care not to let the heels of my boots touch the wood beneath me. I peered through the window next to the door and squinted into the dark interior of Carl's house.

It looked empty...

I turned the handle of the door and it swung open, the hinges creaking slightly. I cringed and looked around. Several walkers that had been milling about the front lawn were now on their way towards me. My chest tightened and I slipped inside, carefully closing the door behind me.

I was engulfed by total darkness, but it was quiet and smelt only of wood; there were no walkers in here.

As my eyes adjusted to the loss of moonlight, I could see things – things that made it look as if outside was just a nightmare. Everything was tidy, just how it had been when Carl and I had sat back to back on floor in front of me now. The kitchen even had a plate of cold cookies on the counter.

I ventured upstairs and checked all the rooms but there was nothing... not even Judith in her crib. Carl's room was empty, several comics still strewn across his bed. I looked on his nightstand and the note I'd left him was gone... I wondered, fleetingly if he'd read it and what he'd done with it...

I made my way back downstairs, unsure of where to look next... It was like trying to search for a needle in a haystack and what was I looking for exactly? Carl? His body? His walking corpse? The thought sickened me.

The few walkers that had been attracted by the creaking door hinges now clawed slothfully at its frame. I slipped out the back door to bypass them. There was less walkers on this side of the houses.

I looked over at Ron's house. The back door to the garage was completely knocked down, its splinters littering the inside. I didn't want to investigate but my feet seemed to carry me there anyway.

I braced myself for what I may find – Ron's half eaten remains, his reanimated little brother, perhaps? Or maybe their mother, Jessie, feasting on them both...

My jaw trembled a little as I stepped inside. A few walkers wandered listlessly about; I remained silent as I scanned the area. It was apparent there had been a struggle here. There was a shovel and several other tools strewn across the floor and a fallen unit of shelving too. But none of that was important, was it? Because what lay in the centre of it all was something that belonged to Carl – a brown and beaten sheriff's hat with golden rope sat amongst the chaos in the room. I plucked it off the floor and examined it. There was no blood, nothing to indicate he hadn't just dropped it... but nothing to indicate he was still alive either. I took a wavering breath and continued on through the house, still clutching Carl's hat underneath my sheet.