The Governor's Daughter {Carl Grimes/The Walking Dead}

Chapter Eleven

I wake the next morning to Carl shuffling around the house, looking at all the rooms again. His rant is stuck in my head. Last night, he started shouting at Rick about how he couldn't protect anyone and how he didn't need him. I doubt it. I like Carl, a lot, but he's being an ass and he's doing things I know he's going to regret later.

Damn, I sound like Christina.

I randomly stand and follow Carl up the stairs. "What are you doing?"

"Double checking the house," he says calmly. Calmly. "Where's Christina?"

"Still sleeping," I answer quietly.

I follow him into the doorway of this one room. It looked like an adult's room, with dull colors and a nightstand. That's basically it. Nothing else there. We leave, heading to the door next to it.

Carl forces the door open. Four rotting hands break through the wood and grab at us. He yelps in surprise and tries to stab the thing's arm, but he's missing. I try to bash it with my gun, but it's no use. He opens the door all the way and tries again, but again, it doesn't get him anywhere.

One of the walkers falls onto him, and he kicks it back. Full force kick. I wrestle with the other, throwing it repeatedly into the door. Carl aims and shoots. It scrapes across the side of it's head, doesn't kill it. While they're both fazed, we stumble to our feet and run like hell to the next room.

The one walker grabs Carl's ankle and knocks him to the floor. I've run to a closet, and already halfway shut the door. But I can't leave him out there. While he desperately tries to free himself from the walker's grasp, I try to force the closet door open, but it remains stuck. Stuck?! How could it be stuck?!

The other walker grabs my arm and places itself in the closet doorway. I wrench my arm away and bash the thing harder than I've ever bashed anything in my life. It won't go down. I was trying to conserve bullets, but now it's a matter of life and death.

I pull the trigger on the walker and watch it crumple to the floor before trying again to open the closet door. I'm desperate at this point. Carl kicks the walker in the face. He doesn't have any other choice. He lost his gun and knife back in the other room.

Then I see a familiar face in the doorway to the room. Christina!

"Chris!" I shriek. "Christina, help him!"

I try with all my might to force the closet door open, but it won't budge. I have to get to Carl somehow. The walker has a tight grip on his ankle. I try to tune out Carl's agonizing yelps and yell for Christina to help him again.

She just stands there! Why isn't she doing anything?!

"Christina, please!" I call hopelessly.

Instead of entering, she shuts the door. Shutting us in.

Carl's shoe comes off and he leaps away from the walker, jumping to his feet.

"Carl, get out of here!" I shriek.

I was expecting him to say something about how the walker will get me, but instead he just jerks toward the door and slams it shut before the walker can get him again. It turns to me, blood dripping from the side of its face where Carl must've kicked it a billion times, and stumbles closer to me.

And closer.

This time, I try my hardest to close the closet door. I seriously am trapped in a closet. No way to escape. This is really it for me.

At least Carl made it. If I come back as a ghost, I'm going to haunt Christina. Or if I'm a walker, I hope I bite or scratch her. What kind of person just leaves their best friend?!

Don't waste your time doing something for someone who wouldn't do it for you. Carl made no attempt whatsoever to help me, he just left.

Like Christina.

I shoot that walker down too, involuntarily. I slump against the wall of the closet, panting.

The door opens again, and there stands Carl. From the outside he yanks on the closet door. I join him. The wood screeches loudly, but the door opens all the way. I step out of the closet.

"Thank you for coming back," I say quietly.

He responds with a nod of his head.

"Did it get you?" I ask.

"No. How about you?"

"No. I'm fine."

We step out of the room, much to my happiness, and he shuts the door.

"Why did you let Christina join us?" Carl asks suddenly, as he reaches down for a piece of chalk.

"She was my friend. I don't know. I just...I guess I wanted to give her another chance. She didn't deserve it. I can't believe she left us in there," I shake my head.

"Can we kick her out?"

"Yes," I answer fast.

He begins to write on the door. Something about his shoe. I smile and stifle a laugh. For the first time in forever, he actually returns the smile.

"I, uh, have an idea," he says. "Yesterday I found a big tub of pudding. Uh... I'm in the mood for victory pudding."

"Victory pudding," I echo with a grin. "You have fun with that. I've got to...deal with her."

He nods. "Right."

His mood improved! You have no idea how happy I am right now! Just one step closer to helping Carl through this tough time!

We head downstairs. Christina's head jerks up and she stares at us.

"You're alive," she says nervously.

"Get out," I say, raising my gun and aiming it at her forehead. "Get out right now, or I swear to God, I will shoot you, Christina."

She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again. "Okay. I'm sorry, Kay."

"You aren't apologizing to me," I frown.

She swallows hard. "I'm sorry, Carl."

His expression doesn't change. Carl raises his gun and stands directly beside me. Two guns aimed at her.

"Get out," I repeat. "Go. I don't want you here. You aren't welcome here."

She stands slowly and her voice breaking, says, "I'm sorry. Goodbye, Kay. Carl."

I listen to her footsteps get quieter, and watch her disappear out the front door. I stand for a moment, just thinking. Why did she leave us? I know she doesn't like Carl, but what about me? I don't know. It just doesn't make a person feel good.

"So about that victory pudding," Carl shatters the silence. "Are you in?"

I glance at him. "Are you actually inviting me?"

"Pretty much."

I don't exactly have my old Carl back, but I've got him. I've still got him. I always will.

"I'll come," I shrug.

He gives me a half smile and says, "Follow me. Ill go get it."

I follow him, trying not to laugh at his uneven balance due to him missing a shoe, and head to the kitchen.

Christina's not my actual friend.

Carl is.