• Carl's POV:
No one spoke as we worked, whether it was sawing away at the wood beams or bending belt hoops, everyone was busy with their own makeshift weapons. Dad once again instructed Rain and I to stay in the corner, so there we stayed, haven both not yet even seen our new company.
Rain used her belt and an old metal scrap to construct what she called, "wolverine claws," and as she progressed, I easily saw the resemblance.
Building mine was a bit of a challenge, and as the minutes past, I grew more and more anxious, sweat pouring down my face. Getting aggravated at the leather bind I was working with, my hands began to shake furiously while handling the weapon, tears swelling in my eyes. Finally, my stress won, resulting in me dropping it on the floor.
Obviously everyone had heard the clinking of falling aluminum from my corner, yet Rain was the only one to react. She crouched down to meet me at the cold floor, her body language calm and caring. Steadily cupping her hand over my shaking fingers and removing the materials from my grasp.
Rain then gives me a small kiss on the cheek, "Rest for a bit, I'm done so I'll get finish it," Her voice is soft and assuring as she ushers me to the wall, where collapse against the hard steel, clutching my knees.
I was asleep for a few minutes when they dropped in the gas, sending everybody into a panic. Quickly bolting up, my corner of the boxcar is abandoned as everyone's in the center, tugging people in and out of the door. It was a madhouse, Maggie, closest to the first can, collapsed, unconscious, others following, the thud of bodies slamming against the steel floor.
Trying desperately to escape the nearing fog, I dart back to the corner, still unaware of who was missing, my mind all over the place once the gas started to kick in. I was out and on the ground in less than ten seconds.
• Rain's POV:
The gas knocked you out first, the doors opening just as your eyesight began to dissolve away. At the time, you weren't aware of anything else going on in the chaos, who you were with, or where you even where.
But waking up, your entire body aching, the residue of gas still lingering on your clothes, stinging your skin, you find yourself to have been relocated to another boxcar. From the darkness, you can still make out others in the car, a murmuring of whispers arising from the opposite end.
Sitting up trying to stretch your stiff legs, they notice your awakening and walk over, "Holy shit, you're alright," Daryl's familiar voice calms you.
He places his hand on your shoulder, an appreciated gesture, as one of the others also speak, "You're not alone Rain, me-Rick, Bob, and Glenn are here too."
"Wha-what the hell's going on?"
"The termites, they attacked the boxcar" it was Glenn's turn to talk, "I was the last person to be taken out of the train, right after you. They threw in some kind of gas and a bunch of men came in, I tried to stop them from taking you but they ended up getting me too."
Rubbing the new bump which throbbed violently on your forehead, your voice squeaks, "So, what's gonna happen..."
Clearly pissed off, Daryl turns on his heel, and with fidgety hands, paces across the boxcar. After clearing his throat and stroking the back of his neck, Rick speaks, "We have no idea."
"All we goddamn know is that: these termites are gonna be sorry for locking me the fuck in here!" Daryl screams the last part, finishing off his threat with repeatedly kicking and punching the closest steel wall. Yet he is quickly held up by Glenn, who during Daryl's little fit, rushed over and held him back.
