𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄! ᶜ ᵍʳⁱᵐᵉˢ

008. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥

The woods were dimly light with the remaining sunlight left of the afternoon. The crickets and other insects of the forest took my confession as an invitation to begin their songs of the night. The solemnity in Carl's eyes matches the heavy atmosphere created by the unexpected words that hung from my lips.

"After everything... sometimes I wonder if I was... stupid. For believing. For still holding out hope," Carl murmurs softly, cautiously meeting my eyes. His voice is tinged with a painful emotional exhaustion. "Why did you tell me that?"

I dig the axe toe into the ground, searching for an answer. "I- I don't know," I confess, an uncomfortable guilt dripping over my body like a thick syrup. "We should get back." A mist of confusion clouds Carl's face- it disappears as soon as it arrived, leaving a wake of displeasure in its place. "Let's go," he says stoutly, turning on his heel.

I spin the axe up, gripping the cool wooden handle. I take one last glance at the deceased walker, an uncomfortable feeling sinking in my stomach like a heavy rock in a lake.

Turning, I trail behind Carl from some feet away. He walks quickly, almost eager to get back to the confinement of the four walls. I keep a steady pace, dreading the inside of the religious sanctuary, but thankful for the chance to rest. As much as I'm hesitant to place my life in these strangers' hands, I'm almost relieved I have someone else to watch over me.

Carl stops at the edge of the church, running his fingertips over the cursed words carved into the wood. I take a spot beside him, studying the deep scratches. "You seen this?" he asks, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. I open my mouth to respond, but flinch at the sound of heavy footsteps crunching against the leaf-covered forest floor. I raise my axe, preparing to fight the new member of the party.

"Woah," Rick surrenders, his hands raised in defense. His eyes trail from my raised axe to his son behind me. "Carl, there you are. Where the hell have you two been?" Rick asks angrily, reaching to grab Carl's arm. "Dad, look," Carl interrupts his father's attempt at reprimanding, pointing at the words etched into the outer wall. "I don't know what happened but whatever it is, we can handle it." Carl runs his fingers over the damaged paint. "Doesn't mean Gabriel is a bad guy for sure, but it means something."

Rick places his hand on the back of Carl's neck, pulling his son close. "C'mon."

We round the church, but I stop near the window. "Rick," I call, pointing at the scratches around the window. "What is it?" he asks, squinting at the small marks. "Those scratches," I point out. "Like knives or something."

Rick's fingers trail over them, just as Carl's had just seconds ago. "Someone was trying to get in." He nods his head once before looking down at his boots. "Let's get inside."

I follow the Grimes' into the church. The building is much more alive now- everyone is in a cheerful mood, talking and laughing. "I'm assuming the run went well?" Carl asks, looking up at his father. Rick held a humble smile on his face. "Yeah. We got lots of food. Gonna have a feast tonight."

Gabriel appears almost out of thin air. "Ms. Elody...?," he asks, crossing his hands together. "Birchman," I answer, a little uncomfortable with the formality. I glance at Carl- he's already looking back at me, a cross between bewilderment and amusement on his dirt streaked face. "Yes... Mr, Gabriel?" I answer, pressing my lips together to keep a giggle from erupting into the suddenly awkward atmosphere. "I'd like for us to have that chat now, if you aren't too busy," he requests, looking to Rick and Carl. Rick waves us off, giving a thin-lipped smile to me. Carl puts his hands up, "Have fun."

"Good," Gabriel thanks, looking back to me. I furrow my brows at his permission seeking from the father and son duo. "Ms. Birchman, if you may, follow me to my office." He turns around, walking down the aisle.