Almost Broken: Carl Grimes fanfic

Chapter 12

Rylie's POV

It's been three days since I was at the prison.
It's funny because I already feel gross and want a shower.
I know I could always just go to the stream and wash up but it's not the same and I don't have time to. And besides, each time I've went, there have been walkers stuck in the mud nearby it and I'd rather not deal with them....
Even though I'm on my own, I'm haven't strayed too far from the prison, maybe 15 miles away. I know my way back though, if I ever needed to go back, which right now, I'm making sure I don't need to. I've rationed my food, kept track of my water, just limiting my portions. I've been sleeping in the trees, sure it's not comfortable but it's safe. I could find a house to hold up in, but there's no guarantee it'd be safe. Storms, winds, rain- now that's what I have to worry about with the trees, and if it's sturdy. It has to be tall and strong, and easy to climb. I don't really know where I'm going at this point, so I'm just moving place to place.

I wonder what everyone is doing right now. Rick is probably out by his crops, Hershel is probably helping someone, or joking around. Beth is probably with Judy, rocking her to sleep and feeding her a bottle...
Daryl is probably hunting, Carl doing.... Whatever it is that he does when I'm not there, and Maggie and Glenn keeping watch, although I have to wonder how much they actually "watch".
I laugh at the thought and then stop, realizing I'm not the only one around. I look down from the tree I am in and see 6 walkers roaming around near the trunk.

"Fuck." I roll my eyes and grab my bag off the branch next to me that comes in handy as a 'hanger'. I slowly climb down from branch to branch until I'm at the walker's head level. I squat on the branch, leaning up against the trunk to keep my balance. I search through my bag for the small rocks I used to have in here.
This reminds me of old times, back when I was by myself, just as I am now. I find a few rocks in the outer pocket and smirk, tossing one up and down in my hand. I do that for a second, before throwing it right at the nearest walkers head, nailing it right in the temple.
"Yes!" I say to myself as the walker slowly makes it's way towards me. When it gets to the tree, I grab my knife, lean over just slightly, and sink it into the walkers skull, and watch it fall dead to the ground. I repeat the process with the next 5 walkers, and then climb down from the tree. This is always the part I hate the most.

I need all the resources I can get, so whenever I get a clean kill of the fleshies, and a small amount of them, I go through their dead lifeless pockets to see what I can find.
I once found cigarettes and a lighter, I tried lighting one, an it was disgusting. I have no idea how these people get addicted to it!
After searching the 6 fleshy bodies, I find nothing on them and sigh. I just did gross, dead body searching for nothing, although that's how it usually turned out anyway.
I brush my hands off and start walking again. I turn to pick up a granola bar I had dropped around the tree trunk when I bumped into something.
It wasn't until I heard a beastly groan and realize I was face to face with a walker.
Shit shit shit shit!
I quickly grab for my knife out of my hip quiver, but before I can pull it out, the fat ass knocks me over and is now pinning me down to the ground, gnawing and snapping it's flesh rotted jaw at my face. The only way I'm keeping it from biting me is by me holding it's neck up with my hand, and it's torso with my feet.
My left hand is pinned between the ground, and the weight of the walker on top of me and I can't reach for my knife! I can feel myself getting weaker with my right arm and I squirm as best I can to get my left hand free.

'Come on come on!' I think to myself and I start to panic. I can't get my fucking arm out!!!!!
I feel tears start to brim my eyes and I feel myself start to give up.

So this is how I die. This is what god's plan is for me. I should've known I wasn't gonna get that happy ending, a happy life. Of getting a healthy relationship, have kids, watching them grow up, having grandchildren and then maybe one day, dying peacefully in my sleep knowing life was good.
But no, this is how it happens. As the walker above me still wiggles to try and take a bite, arms wailing trying to scratch and get ahold of me, my mind slows down, the world around me blurring out. They say that an adrenaline rush is supposed to speed everything up, but this sure as hell doesn't feel like speed. So maybe I'm not on an adrenaline rush.
Maybe this is the part where I pass out so I won't feel the pain of being ripped apart.
Just as everything around me starts to go black, and my eyes start slipping shut, I feel my left hand slip free from underneath me and my eyes snap open. All of a sudden, everything speeds back up, and I can now hear the walker growling and almost screaming on top of me. I reach for my knife in one quick motion and stab it into the fucker's eye socket, and watch the damn thing go lifeless on top of me. I push it off, roll over and throw up.
Well, there goes the crackers I had for breakfast. That's just fucking great. I sit up and take a second to catch my breath. I could've swore, I was as good as dead. I look up to the sky, and give a quick thanks to god, something that I haven't done in a while.

Maybe I should go back?
Back to the prison...
It'd be better there. I mean, just about 3 days there felt like heaven. The three days I've been out here after that have felt like hell. Would they even let me back in after I left? I'd hope they would.... But I'd feel more embarrassed than thankful. I mean, I sat there and insisted, and swore I was leaving because I was better off alone...
But being alone now that I've had people around, feels like a death sentence of depression. I've just been moping around these woods by myself, and I have no clue where I'm going, what Im trying to find, I never did.
But now, I know.
I have to go back to the prison. Not for Carl, because being honest, Carl was being a total dick to me. He didn't even say goodbye.
No, I'm going so I can have people, people I can count on and actually have a relationship with and have a potential life with.
I eat my last granola bar, take a sip of my half empty water bottle, and start heading in the direction of the prison. About 2 hours of me walking, the sun is at it's highest, meaning it's about 2 o'clock? Not that it matters anyway. But the prison is about 5 more miles, so I have about 2 more hours left of walking.
"Just push through it Ry, when you get the there, you can sleep in a nice, comfy bed. Get some fresh water from them, maybe some food, it'll all be worth it Ry just tough it up" I say to myself.

After an exhausting 2 hours in the spring Georgia sun, (which is continuously getting hotter each day), I finally see the top of the nearest guard tower and I'm almost there!
I walk a little further, pushing past the trees and moving into view of the prison, only to find the fences down, the walls blown out, a burning tank in the court yard, and hundreds of walkers piling into the place I used to call safe.