Junebug • TWD

40. One Hell of a Surprise.

When I woke up this morning, I was in my bed, and Dad was on top of the blankets next to me, still sleeping. Seeing him there reminded me of how I acted last night. Like a dramatic, pathetic little baby. But I was just being dramatic because it was a very, very bad day. I'm better now. I don't even feel sad. I just feel blank.

Dad slept in way later than I did, which means he must have stayed up really late last night, because, usually, he's the one to wake me up. Not today. Today I woke up on my own, and he didn't wake up for another two hours. Or at least I'm guessing it's been two hours. Dale's watch ain't tickin' no more, so I can't be sure.

Anyway, we're all up now, and we're sitting around mopin' in the cell block. Dad's sitting on the stairs and Carl's sitting right next to me. He ain't even touching his oatmeal. He's just kinda staring at it. When I don't wanna eat, I at least pretend by pushing my food around with my spoon, but he ain't even doing that. He's just sorta sitting there.

Hershel is sitting to the right of me. He's eating his food, and so are Glenn and Maggie, who are sitting across from Hershel. Beth's not eating hers right now because she's too busy feeding the baby, which still ain't got a name.

If I could give the baby a name, I'd probably name it something like Bowie or Elodie, or maybe Eleanor or Gwen or something. Those were kids from my school. They were in the grades below me, though, so I never really got to talk to 'em that much. When I did, though, they were a lot nicer than the kids in my own grade, so that's why I like them, and that's why I would name a baby after them. I can't think of any other names. Not ones that don't make me sad, anyway.

Looking at her now, I don't know if any of those names fit this particular baby, though. I'm not sure.

"Everybody okay?"

Everyone's heads shoot up in the direction of the voice. Because it's Rick's voice, and we ain't seen him at all since he found out about Lori. He's over by the door, and he's got blood on his face. It makes me feel like my head's going to get messed up again, but I try my hardest not to let it.

"Yeah, we are," Maggie replies somewhat hesitantly.

Rick comes walking further into the room, closer to me and Carl, so I keep my head down and my eyes focused on the spoon in my hand. I mush around my oatmeal to keep myself occupied.

"What about you?" Hershel asks Rick.

"I cleared out the boiler block," Rick answers. But that's not really what Hershel asked him. I think he's not giving a straight answer because he knows that we already know that he's not okay. He's messed up in his head right now, just like I was yesterday. But I'm better now.

"How many were there?" Dad asks from his spot on the stairs.

"I don't know. A dozen, two dozen," Rick answers with a shrug. He slides over Carl's back and Carl stares intensely into his oatmeal. "I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl."

That's stupid, in my opinion. Obviously, Carl ain't fine. His momma's gone and his daddy's leaving him all alone with all that new achy hole in his heart. I know what that feels like. And it really, really hurts. Carl needs Rick and Rick's too busy going on a walker-killing rampage to care.

Glenn shoots up out of his seat. "Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to," he says.

"No, I do," Rick insists, his face twisting up like he's just eaten something sour. He walks off toward my dad by the stairs. "Everyone have a gun and a knife?" he asks my dad.

"Yeah. Almost everyone," Dad says, glancing at me. It's because I don't currently have a gun or a knife. He's probably about to fix that, though, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it. "We're running low on ammo, though," Dad goes on.