When The World Caves In |C.G.

fourteen

2 months on the road

It's the dead of winter, and we've been on the road for a couple months now. So many days have gone by since the end of the world, it's hard to keep track. 

We're all cold and hungry and tired. Each day is the same thing over and over again. Drive for miles and miles in search of something, but turn up empty. Scavenge isolated houses just off the road for a few canned good. 

I don't know the last time I washed my face, my skin is caked in walker blood and dirt. My lips are cracked and bloodied. Water has become a luxury simply for drinking and cooking. 

Sometimes Daddy and I go hunting and find some squirrel or rabbit, but game is becoming far and few between. Even the squirrels are going hungry. I swear each one we catch is smaller than the last. 

Carl and I are acting as look out for the adults right now, we're both carrying handguns now. Both equipped with a silencer so the sounds don't draw trouble towards us. They're standing round looking at a map. 

My knuckles are red, and cracked; the dry air making them split from the lack of moisture. Today is so cold I think the tip of my nose might fall off. 

"Your face is red Roo." Carl tells me and I give him a small smile as he shrugs out of his jacket. "Take this." 

"So is yours cowboy." I remind him and he hits his shoulder against mine, slinging his jacket around my shoulders. He doesn't pull away though, he keeps his shoulder touching mine, and I welcome the warmth that Carl's giving me. We've stuck together a lot recently. As thick as thieves. It's nice to have him in the midst of the chaos, to know someone else is losing their childhood the same way I am.

I look over at Lori who is leaning against a car, rubbing her belly. She's starting to get bigger in the belly. I ain't saying she's getting fat or nothing, but that baby has made her stomach blow up like a big ol' balloon. I hope we find somewhere safe soon. The road is no place for a baby. I think about the future this baby might have if we don't find anywhere soon and grow sad at the thought.

A whistle rings out and I see Daddy is the source. He's nodding towards me and Rick walks over, taking my place on watch. 

"Going hunting," He tells me. "You coming?" 

"Yeah," I tell him, grabbing my crossbow in favor of the handgun. I tuck the handgun into my waist and let him lead the way. 

We trek further into the woods, looking for signs of any kind of game. There is nothing though. There hasn't been anything the past couple days. My stomach growls in defeat and I kick a tuft of grass on the ground. 

I hate this. I hate how tired I feel, how hungry I am. I hate the cold. Everything sucks. 

"We'll be alright." Daddy says breaking me out of my train of thought. 

"I didn't say nothing." I tell him and he shrugs. 

"I can feel you thinking from over here." Daddy says before adding sassily; "You thinking is scaring off the game." 

"Yeah, that's what's scaring it off." I say, rolling my eyes and he gives me a playful shove towards a tree. I trip over the root and he snorts loudly. 

"Nice one klutz." He says and I shove him back. My shove doesn't make much of a difference in his stride. He's a lot stronger than me. 

"What are we even doing out here?" I wonder aloud, looking at my surroundings. 

When I was younger I always loved going out in the woods in the winter. The way the trees smell, the feel of the brisk air nipping my nose always felt like a reminder of home, of freedom. Back then, we'd end a day of hunting by making our way back to our cabin and Daddy would pour half a packet of hot chocolate for me and some stale marshmallows we'd find in the back of the cabinets. It was always the best treat, hidden away from Merle cause he'd surely cause an argument over it.