When The World Caves In |C.G.

forty one

The longer we walk, the more I realize I'm in shock. Just this morning, Beth was brushing my hair and we were joking about Judith's blow out. Now, my family is stranded and some of them are dead. What if that was the last time I saw my dad? Carl stopped me from following him and I'm angry. That wasn't his choice to make for me. We could've helped Daddy back at the prison, we could've been together, the four of us. Now, I don't even know if he's alive.

We haven't stopped walking since we left the prison. Rick's entire face is swollen, and there's still a bullet wound in his leg. I think the only thing keeping him going is pure adrenaline. That, and the fact that Carl is walking far ahead of us.

I keep looking behind us, thinking that at any given moment Daddy will pop out of the woods with some squirrel. Like he's just on a hunting trip. He doesn't though and my throats tightens as I look forward once more. 

"Carl, slow down." Rick pleads for a moment before yelling at his son. "Carl stop!" 

Carl stops in his tracks, but he doesn't turn to look at either of us as Rick continues speaking. 

"We need to stay together." His words are slurred. Quite honestly, he looks like he was run over by a horse. "We've got to find a place with food and supplies. Hey, we're gonna be-"

Rick doesn't finish his sentence. I know he wanted to say 'okay', but that would be a lie. Instead, he just looks between Carl and I then wheezes as Carl takes off. Being okay is a lie now. Rick's injuries could be life threatening and we can do nothing about that. For christ sake he has a bullet wound in his leg. There's nothing we can do about any of this.

After another mile or so of walking, we stumble across an old bar. It was probably a dive bar back in the day. My heart clinches at the sight of the toppled over motorcycles in front of it. Making my way over to the only one still standing, I run my hands over the leather seat. It reminds me of Daddy and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying. 

Rick opens the door to the place while Carl and I keep our weapons trained inside. 

"Wait outside, okay?" He says. "Keep watch." 

"No you keep watch." Carl snaps at his father. I've never seen this side of him before. "I'm not going to let you go in there alone." 

"Rick, you can barely stand." I tell him, in a much gentler tone than Carl did.  "We'll help, we've done this before."

"You should just let us do it ourselves." Carl says, raising his gun once more. After a moment of reluctance, Rick opens the door allowing us to go inside. 

+

There wasn't much left at that old bar except some hot sauce, pork rinds, and pickles much to my delight. Carl handed me the jar when Rick wasn't looking. I took it without saying anything, stuffing it inside an old grocery sack. Feeling his gaze on my back, I leave the old bar not caring if Rick and Carl follow. 

They got into an argument over a bullet. Carl is pissed off. Rick is pissed off. I'm pissed off. The tension hangs over us like a cloud. We lost everything. Everything. All that's left is the clothes on our backs. Mr. Tubbins is gone too, and that hurts like a bitch. 

"Hey." Rick calls once we stumble across an abandoned house. I stop in my tracks and turn around silently. Carl looks me up and down and I turn away. I'm still pissed. "That ones as good as any." 

We burst through the door, clearing out the rooms one by one. Carl goes off on his own, much to Rick's disapproval. 

"I got it." Carl hisses as his father calls his name. "All the doors down here are open."