of monsters and men - carl grimes

V

-

v.

two headed boy
"catching signals that sound in the dark"

-

The quiet doesn't last. It never does.

Maggie collapses in her dining room. Apparently something is wrong with her, her baby.

There's blood on her jeans. Too much of it.

She's barely conscious, eyes fluttering open and closed, but she's holding her stomach like she's trying to keep it all together. But we all know it's bad. Real bad.

Hilltop has a doctor. We don't.

The decision's made, no argument, but the journey's going to be hell. The Saviors have been crawling all over the roads, setting up more patrols, taking out anyone they think might be against them. They're tightening the noose. Going out there now, with Maggie like this—it's a death sentence.

But we don't have a choice.

I head straight for the armory. My chest feels tight, like everything inside me is coiled up and waiting to snap. The others are worried, talking about the danger, about how we're going to make it without getting ourselves killed.

But me? I feel something different. There's a part of me that hopes we run into them. The Saviors. Negan's people. I want them to try. I want them to get in our way.

I start pulling guns from the racks, checking ammo, making sure everything's loaded and ready. My hands move faster the more I think about it.

I hate them.

I want to fight. I need to fight.

I toss a few extra magazines into my pack, strapping a knife to my belt. I imagine what it'll be like if we cross them. A sick part of me wants to see the fear in their eyes when they realize we're not running, how dangerous we all are.

I'm loading a shotgun when I hear footsteps behind me. I don't have to turn to know it's her. Enid's always had this quiet way of moving, like she's trying to take up as little space as possible, but I can still feel her presence, always do.

She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there. I can hear her breathing. I'm not in the mood for whatever this is, whatever she thinks she's going to say to me. I slide another shell into the chamber, the click filling the silence between us.

"I'm going."

I stop, my hand frozen over the box of ammo. I don't turn around.

"No, you're not." I say, flat.

"I am." She says, her voice firm, but there's this undercurrent of something else—fear, maybe. "Maggie needs all the help she can get. You know that."

"Yeah. Which is why you're staying here." I sling the duffel over my shoulder. "The Saviors are out there, and when they find us—"

Her eyes flash, cutting me off. "When they find us? Is that what you're hoping for?"

I open my mouth to argue, but the words get stuck somewhere in my throat.

Her gaze narrows, her voice dropping. "You want them to come, don't you?"

"That's not—" I start, but she steps closer, cutting the distance between us. Stands right before me. With those big eyes the color of soft sage, her eyebrows pull together over them.

"Don't lie to me, Carl."

I'm breathing hard, trying to reign myself in. I don't want to say the thing I'm really thinking. But Enid's sharp, too sharp for her own good.