Walkers Can't Climb (The Walking Dead/Carl)

Walkers Can't Climb

3 years.

I sit on the roof, looking down at the ground for a while. Thinking about my life before and after the first outbreak. Thinking about those I lost and missed. Thinking about joining them. I could just end it, end all my misery. I don't want to kill but that's the only way to survive. What if I just didn't want to survive.

A sudden movement below me interrupts my thoughts. A frustrated Carl emerges from the back door and starts making his way to a few other houses. As if he senses my eyes on him he turns around, but doesn't look up. I try to resist laughing while he slams his body against the door, trying to open it. He fell a few times and decided to pry it open with something he found on the ground. He enters the house. I stare at the front door, waiting for something to happen. Several minutes pass and he runs out the front door with a huge can, only one shoe, and a panicked look in his face. He takes a small objects out of his pocket and writes a message on the door. Something about his shoe, I bet. He goes back into the house we're staying in. I continue looking at the ground. A minute later, I hear a shuffling noise behind me. Carl appears onto the roof with a huge can of chocolate pudding and a spoon.

"We're you... Spying on me?" He questions me.

"I was just sitting on the roof when you appeared, you provided me with some great entertainment." I smirk.

He doesn't reply.

"So, what happened to your shoe?"

"Walker got my shoe, not me."

"That's... Interesting."

He pries open his can of pudding and starts digging in with a plastic spoon.

"Want some?"

"No, I've always hated pudding. And that's probably expired."

He shrugs and continued eating, a pleased look on his face.

I finish locking all the doors and windows when I hear a sudden gasp from Carl, who's been sitting in front of his dad for the last two hours. I walk towards Rick, staying a good couple of feet away from him. He rolls off the couch and on to the floor. He's dead, he has to be dead. Carl raises his gun, hot tears rushing down his cheeks. Rick wiggles around on the floor, groaning and moaning. He must've turned. Suddenly Carl whimpers.

"I can't do it." He sobs. "I can't."

We step away from Rick. His hand reached towards Carl as he continued to sob. Ricks groans slowly turn into words. He's actually alive, wow, this guy is tough.

"Stay safe, s-stay in the house." He says hoarsely.

"Dad." Carl mumbles. "DAD!" He shouts this time.

"Shut up, Carl, I'm alive. Just tired."

Carl practically jumps on top of him as Rick gathered him into a hug.

"I thought you were dead." Carl sobbed.

"Do I look dead?" Rick joked.

"Almost."

I stood up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing some cans of... Something.

"Want something to eat?"

Carl shook his head but Rick nodded.

"Carl, aren't you hungry?"

"No, I had some... pudding."

"Some?" I budded in. "You had a huge can, about this big." I motioned the size of the can with my hands.

"Carl, where'd you find all that pudding?"

"In a house."

"Alright, and did you eat all of it?."

"Yes..." Rick chuckled.

He grunted, reaching towards the can in my hand. Apparently they were peaches, moldy peaches.

We sat all together, talking, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. We all slowly stood up, raising our weapons. Rick walked towards the door, not daring to make a sound. He looked through the peephole.

"Carl, it's for you." He grinned.