The Road Ahead of Us - TWD Season 2

NICOLETTE

They didn't need that, not so soon.

The plan was perfect; Randall would have survived. Why would he risk everything right now? If they found him, they would kill him. Shane would do it without blinking an eye; he seemed eager to get rid of the guy, and now no one would oppose him.

"It's getting late," Sarah said, folding her hands as she paced the dimly lit room. The sun had disappeared, leaving the sky a deep, unsettling darkness. The familiar view had turned gloomy and creepy, haunted by memories of what had happened just the night before.

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," Patricia reassured her, moving closer and rubbing Sarah's arm in a comforting gesture.

"Maybe we should go find them," Carl suggested, his brow furrowed with concern. But Lori shook her head firmly.

"No, we're not moving," she insisted, pointing towards the stairs. "Go to Maggie's room."

"Mom, they might need our help!" Carl protested, desperation creeping into his voice. But Lori was resolute, her eyes steely.

"Go, Carl! Now!" she exclaimed, her tone leaving no room for argument. Nicki watched as Carl's lip tightened, a mix of frustration and fear flashing across his face before he trudged upstairs, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders.

Outside, the night deepened, the air thick with tension, as the house fell silent, each creak and whisper amplifying their growing dread.

"It's dark," Sarah said nervously, her voice trembling. "Daryl never follows traces in the dark; he said that!" Nicki stood up, glancing at Andrea, who moved closer to her sister, trying to convince her that they were safe. But deep down, everyone felt the tension. Nicki looked up the stairs again, took a deep breath, and made her way up. She glanced around the dim hallway before heading toward Maggie's room. When she opened the door, she found Carl by the window, poised to climb out.

"You're nothing if not predictable," Nicki said, closing the door quietly behind her.

Carl scoffed, glancing back at her. "What? Are you gonna tell my mom?"

Nicki crossed her arms defiantly. "That her son is playing Spider-Man to sneak out of the window? I'm sure she'd love that." She tilted her head, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"What do you want?" he asked, exhaling sharply.

Nicki shrugged. "Preventing you from breaking your neck seems like a good start."

Carl shook his head, determination etched on his face. "I have to help my dad," he insisted. Nicki studied him closely; he had always been the kind of person who wanted to help the group, but there was something different about him tonight.

"What if he'd rather have you here?" she asked, watching his reaction. He seemed more nervous, jumpy, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

"If I'm here and he dies," Carl said finally, his voice heavy with emotion, "I would never forgive myself."

Even Rick would never forgive himself if his son died trying to save him.

Nicki moved closer to Carl. "And what's the plan?" she asked. "Throw rocks at Randall?"

"I don't know yet," Carl replied, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"That doesn't sound like a good plan," she said, frowning as she kept her eyes on him.

"You don't get it," he said, shaking his head. "I have to."

She observed him silently for a moment, his eyes cast down, hidden beneath the brim of his hat, as if he didn't want her to see his pain.

"Why?" Nicki finally asked. Carl took a deep breath, his shoulders tense.