Walking Dead-Carl Grimes

Truth drunk

Truth Drunk.

~Vallory's P.O.V.~

Carl and I hugged each other and fell to the ground crying. On all fours, I crawled over to the counter to check things out. Everything was fresh. The drinks, the junk food, the bread, the vegetables. It was unbelievable. Carl ran to get Daryl and Rick ( Mini A/N if you haven't noticed I sometimes call him Daryl and sometimes call him her dad sorry haha) while I inspected the opening behind the counter that was blocked with rubber strips. Suddenly, a large walker pushed its way through from behind the strips. It had obviously just turned recently because if it weren't for the sickly yellow eyes, it could be mistaken for human. It wasn't deathly skinny, or rotted to the bone. It had most of it's hair and was wearing clean clothes. It was probably the person who kept this place going in the two years since the beginning of the apocalypse. Who knows, maybe the man worked in a factory where you make Doritos or Lays chips so he knew how to make them. That still doesn't explain how he has electricity. Maybe he had a generator. I had gotten so caught up in my thoughts that the walker has gotten a little to close for comfort. Scratch that, being within a hundred feet of a walker is still to close for me. The boys walked in as I was putting a clean cut through the middle of the walkers head with my katana.

"And that's why you don't piss Val off." Rick chuckled, making Carl laugh nervously.

"That and she's a Dixon." Daryl snorted, causing me to burst up laughing.

As the others were looting, I decided to explore what lye beyond the door blocked by the rubber strips. I found myself in a long dark hallway. It had gray walls, which were dimly lit by the light bulb hanging above me, and two doors on opposite sides of the walls. The first one to my right was a closet that might as well have had "Gold Mine" in glowing letters hung on the door. Inside was what looked like a solar charger that I didn't know what was for until I saw the small IPod, 4 bags of Tortilla chips, and 3 bottles of alcohal. When I saw the alcohol, an old phrase popped into my head. Yolo. I laughed to myself at the irony of it. Now, you live twice, except the second time your a flesh eating monster. I threw it all into my bag then crept towards the other door. I wish I would have knocked to make sure nothing was in there. The room was dark since blankets and boards covered the windows, so out of curiosity I risked a little battery life by switching on my flashlight.

You see, I'm not one to throw up when I see something gross or scream when it's scary, but what I saw caused me to do both. First, the smell made me throw up. Then, as the beam of my flashlight landed on the floor, I couldn't help but scream. What I saw I can't really explain, or even really want to, but I will try. It was a herd of zombies, 30 or 40, all melded together. All of their rotted skin has somehow melted together to make one giant blob of eyes, bones, and a whole lot of moaning. I felt something grab my leg, and I noticed one of the walker-things had reached out and was trying to get me. I kicked it with my other foot then ran.

"Let's go!" I screamed, causing Rick, Carl, and Daryl to look at me funny.

"What? Why? We haven't checked out the rest of the store." Rick said.

"I did. No more food. Let's go!" I said before running out and getting into the car.

I sat on the sun faded seat and pulled out the alcohol. Back when the army was protecting my family and I, Mark had forced me to drink once. I knew what it tasted like so the immediate sourness didn't surprise me.

"What are you drinking?" Carl asked incredulously making me cringe.

"What does it look like?" I slurred, having already chugged half of the bottle.

"It looks like you're drunk and you don't need anymore." He replied, taking the bottle away and sitting in the car next to me.

If I would have thought before I started drinking, I would have remembered one crucial detail about what I did when I got drunk. I never lie, and I speak whatever pops into my mind. No exaggeration.

"Give it back!" I whined, reaching over and trying to snatch the bottle back. "Whatever, keep it. I have 3 more!" I said, sticking my tongue out.

Carl grabbed my tongue and smirked at me.

"Ew!" I giggled. "Don't touch my tongue with your fingeeers!"

I still had a small sensible conscious in the back of my mind that face palmed at my stupidness. Carl started laughing uncontrollably.

"You really are drunk!" He laughed even harder.

"Don't laugh at me hot stuff!" I whined, my subconscious face palming once again, "You should have some to!"

Carl shrugged then tried some, cringing at the taste.

"Gross! How do you drink this stuff?!"

"The second time is better."

And then, I'm ashamed to say, we got drunk. And then passed out in the car.