Who We Are | TWD

.050

Ron stalks out of the room. As soon as he's gone, I walk to the door and close it harshly. "What the hell happened?" I ask Carl in a low voice, walking back towards him. "And don't lie to me."

"What do you want me to say? Ron tried to kill me?"

"What?" I ask incredulously, holding his wrists in my hands. His blue eyes make him seem as though he's unfazed by the whole matter, but I am currently struggling for air. "Carl, you have to tell your dad. Now. Ron is insane!"

"No. I'm not telling my dad."

"Then I will," I respond, about to walk off and deal with the situation myself. I'm not letting anyone hurt Carl, especially Ron, the same person that has every intention to.

Carl grabs my arm, pulling me back, so I can't leave. "You're not telling him, either." I stare up at him, angry and worried, not sure which emotions are causing me to do what needs to be done. "After this is over, we're gonna have to live with him. He's going to be with us and his anger isn't going to go away."

"No, it won't. It won't go away until he kills you!"

"Emmie, just listen," Carl says, trying to remain calm. "If we tell my dad, then my dad will tell Jessie. Jessie will tell Ron so she can try and fix it all, and then he'll hate me even more. Got it? Now isn't the time." I let my shoulders droop, exhaling my fear.

"Okay, fine."

"I have his gun. He can't hurt anyone."

"What'd he say to you in there."

"He thinks Enid's dead. He thinks we're all going to die. He locked us in garage." My heart aches, realizing that if we wouldn't have heard anything when we did, Carl, or even Ron, for that matter, could very well be dead right now. Carl pulls me in, holding his arms around my shoulders. "Listen, Em. He can't hurt anyone. We're gonna be okay."

I nod, leaning my head against his chest and closing my eyes, wishing that the world could just stay quiet for one more minute, but the sound of the walkers bursts into my ears again and my eyes snap open. "I have to go get Judith. She's with Sam," I say, almost having forgotten about him.

"Is he okay?"

"Hard to tell. I think? I hope?" I shake my head. "I'll let you know." I hurry back out the door and up the stairs, passing the people who have gathered in the living room. It's not until I get to the landing that I realize I hear her crying and am immediately nervous. I hear boots clicking up the stairs and turn to see Rick following behind me. "I left Jude with Sam," I explain.

"Michonne said she laid her down. She was hoping she'd be tired." I look back down the hall where the subtle harmony of music plays from Sam's room. It's the same music that he had been repeatedly told to turn off.

"I should tell Sam to turn off the music. I know that-"

"He's in his room?" I nod. "Let him be." Rick points a finger to the guest room where the blood stained bedding lays dismally on the mattress. Deanna is nowhere to be found.

"Rick . . ."

"It's okay. It's just her." Even with his dismissive comments, I can still hear his breathing picking up, just as mine is. He starts down the hall, me following behind as I pull out my knife, my knuckles popping from my skin as I grip the weapon in my hand. As we near closer to the end of the hallway, I see the door is parted. It's the room Judith is in. I silence the pulsing in my ears just long enough to hear that the cries have stopped. The doorway is smeared with just a few fingerprints of red. These clues combined are enough to tell me to raise my knife.