Be There For Me (Carl Grimes)

The Search (Ch. 2)

Morgan's POV

  "Um...hi. I'm- I'm Morgan. Um yea... I'm Morgan Evans."

  "Well, Morgan, do you have a group? Or is it just you?" He asks me.

  "Um no. I did have a group.... they're gone now." I replied, looking at my feet.

  "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. You can come back to my group, if you want to, of course. We're held up in a prison, a few miles south."

  "What crime did you commit?" I joke, earning a chuckle from him. "Hey, my friend, she ran that way. I gotta find her." I say as I start walking east.

  "Hey, can I come with you?" He asks.

  I turn around, and reply with one simple word. "Sure."

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  Carl and I hold up our weapons. He has a gun with a silencer, and I have my machete. We enter an abandoned 'Tractor Supply Co' store.

  "Caitlin, are you here? It's me, Morgan." I call out softly.

  "OK, lets split up. I'll go one way, you go another." Carl tells me.

  We split up and look for Caitlin while also searching for walkers; that's what Carl calls them.

  I hear faint whimpering somewhere around me. I look under stuff, over stuff and behind stuff, but I can't find anything. I then see a door with blood on the handle. It's still fresh and it doesn't smell like walker blood. I open the door and immediately I'm met with drops of fresh blood on the hard tiled floor.

  I finally find what -or who- I'm looking for. I see Caitlin huddled in a corner on the far side of the room, blood dripping from what it looks to be her wrists. My first thought is 'Oh my god, she's been scratched!', but my thoughts are changed when I see a bloody knife on the floor beside her.

  I rush over to my whimpering friend, and gently take her wrist in my palms. She yelps from pain, and I set her wrist down, using my knife to cut off the bottom of my tank top and wrapping and tying it around her bloody wrist.

  I gently help her up and put her arm around my neck, and I put my arm around her waist and help her walk out to Carl.

  "Carl, I found Caitlin!" I shout. Carl comes around the corner and sees her tied up wrist.

  "Did she get scratched?" Carl asks me.

  "No, no. She didn't get scratched." I tell him. A saddened look appears on his face as he realizes she self harmed.

  "We have to get her to the prison. I know who can help her." Carl says.

  We walk out of the store. Even though Caitlin can probably walk on her own, I don't want to risk it with her illness and her wrist.

  "Carl, she's too heavy for me. I can't help her. We're gonna have to rest." I tell him.

  "Or I could just carry her?" Carl suggests. I hesitate. "I insist." He demands.

  So Carl carries Caitlin the rest of the way to the prison.