The End Of My World

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

It wasn't long before the sun rose above the horizon with its heat scorching the backs of our necks, and sweat beating down our bodies as we trudged through the underbrush.

My mind was a whirl. I remember the story Rick told about their trip to the CDC in Washington.

It wasn't much of a story. Well, who was I kidding? It was bad ass. ..

Flashback

Rick Grimes walked ahead of the group, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Atlanta was a graveyard, the streets littered with burned-out cars and the remains of a city that once thrived. The air was heavy with the stench of decay. Rick's thoughts were consumed by the memory of their camp, now overrun by walkers. They had lost so much – Amy, Jim, and too many others. His son Carl walked just behind him, holding onto Lori's hand. Rick glanced back at them, determination hardening his resolve.

Shane fell into step beside him. "You sure this is the right call, Rick?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt. "The CDC – if it was gonna help, don't you think we'd have heard somethin' by now?"

Rick didn't break stride. "It's the best chance we've got," he replied. "There's got to be something there. If we don't try, then what are we doing?"

Shane looked ahead, squinting at the CDC building coming into view. It was a towering structure, imposing and lifeless. He sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, man. I hope you're right."

As the group approached the CDC, they saw the building's thick, reinforced doors, sealed tight. Rick quickened his pace, feeling a surge of hope. He reached the doors and began pounding on them, his fists echoing in the stillness. "Hello?" he shouted. "Is there anybody in there?"

The others gathered around, their expressions ranging from cautious optimism to outright fear. Lori held Carl close, her eyes darting around, expecting trouble at any moment. Glenn looked up at the building, his face a mix of hope and skepticism.

For a long, agonizing moment, there was no response. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the empty parking lot. Just as despair began to creep in, there was a loud, metallic creak. The doors started to open, slowly revealing a lone figure standing in the dim light of the building's interior.

Rick stepped forward, shielding his eyes from the sudden glare. "We're not infected!" he called out. "We need help."

The figure stepped into the light. It was a man, disheveled and weary, dressed in a lab coat. He hesitated, looking them over, before finally speaking. "If you're infected, this is the last place you want to be," he said flatly. "Come inside, and let's get this over with."

The heavy doors sealed shut behind them, and the group was led through a series of decontamination chambers. The sterile environment was a jarring contrast to the chaos outside. Rick looked around, his senses on high alert, but there was no immediate threat – just the hum of machinery and the scent of antiseptic.

Their host, Dr. Edwin Jenner, was a man worn down by loss and isolation. He guided them into a large, well-equipped living area, where the survivors marveled at the comforts they had long since abandoned. Warm showers, clean clothes, and food that wasn't scavenged from a grocery store shelf – it was almost too much to take in.

As they sat down to eat, Rick watched Jenner carefully. The scientist seemed distant, distracted, as if he were already half-gone. "What's the situation here?" Rick asked, trying to keep his voice calm. "You have a cure, or at least something we can use to fight this thing?"

Jenner sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to find the right words. "There is no cure," he said finally. "We've been trying, but... the CDC is finished. I'm the last one left." His eyes were hollow, as if the words had been rehearsed too many times.