The Future is Nigh (TWD Fanfiction)

16- Memories

A/N- The bold bits during the chapter are from in the past; the day of her brother. They are not author notes xD

The first thing I hear is the sound of music, my eyes open wide and all is dark. The stars are spread out like a blanket and the trees to my side move past.

I look to my left, Michonne has one hand on the steering wheel and the other fiddling with the stereo.

'Morning.' Michonne says. She meets my gaze with a sincere smile before turning back to watch the road.

The seat has been put back as far as it can go. Instead of looking through the rear view mirror I twist my head, Judith is fast asleep in the back seat. She has her thumb sunken into her mouth, her eye lids flutter as she dreams of -what I hope are- happy dreams.

'She hasn't said a word.' Michonne states. What had she seen in the past twenty-four hours?... I don't think I want to know the answer. 'Are you still bleeding?' Michonne asks. My hand trails down and even the brush of my finger tips hurts.

The car is dark, when I look at the dash board the time reads 09;34. I lift my hand close to my face to stare at the skin, blood. 'I think it's stopped.' I lie.

Michonne slows the car until we come to a stop. When the engine is cut off we talk.

'I took out the bullet.' she states. Well isn't that normal!

'Thank you...' what else could I say? 'Is there no sign of...?' I ask and Michonne shakes her head in the dim light of the car.

'There have been walkers, but I checked them all.' she says. A yawn then escapes her lips. It never crossed my mind on whether she is tired.

Of course she is! Everyone is.

'Do you want me to drive?' I ask. Michonne tries to say "no" but I have already got out of the car, crawled like an old lady to her side and opened the door.

'You're not capable of driving.' Michonne says, ending her sentence with yet another yawn.

'Neither are you. Now, climb over.' I demand. Michonne does not try to argue any longer and instead scoots over to the passenger seat.

When I am belted and have the seat adjusted to my height I turn on the ignition. My hands grip the wheel-

'I'm sorry!' I whisper in between sobs as I take the car door and slam it closed behind me. The chair is squishy and I sink right in, the arm smells of smoke and a tinge of alcohol. 'I'm sorry Charlie. This was never meant to happen. IT WASN'T PART OF THE PLAN.' 

'Hey!' A man roars, coming out from the woods. A few other men come out also as they all aim their riffles at me.

A shot is fired but the truck I am driving is already in gear-

'Rayna?' Michonne asks from beside me, 'Are you okay?' 

Am I?

Am I?

'Yes.'

'No.'

Dangling from the keys is a photo. In the photo are two girls, twins. They look like they're ten.

"Concentrate on the road", I think but the picture is distracting, with both their perfect smiles staring at me. I decide I have drove far enough away. I can't take the truck to wherever I am going -where am I going?- or they might just follow me.

Are those two girls daughters of one of the men chasing me? Or did the men -sent by the governor- steal the car and pay no attention to their ginger hair and green eyes?

Michonne falls asleep only minutes into the journey. My hands sweat as I stear the wheel around ditched cars. I feel like I have a lot of pressure placed on my shoulders, I have to keep Michonne and Judith safe, I need to keep myself safe and I also need to look out for Carl in the pitch darkness. 

The CD still continues to play. I don't recognise their voices, they don't sound that good either but that's OK. Their voices muffle my thoughts and that too is OK.

Clouds scatter across the sky but the moon is brighter and whiter than ever before.

With the little light offered from the head lights I slowly bring the car to a halt in the middle of the road. I was not driving all that fast in the first place. A body is lying in the middle of the road.

I stop the truck at the side of the road and look for anything I might consider bringing with me. I decide on taking the packet of crisps still sealed on the passenger seat, I also take the half empty -or half full?- bottle of vodka.

Is it... Carl? I can't bare to wake Michonne or Judith. I don't want them to get excited if it is not him. 

But it is him. You know it is him.

I grab the door handle and click it open. There is no wind gushing at my face, the night air is still, nothing but beautiful and awe-stricking. 

With a firm yank the trucks stiff door opens, though the wind is heavy and I have to use all my body strength to keep it open. I jump down and the door slams closed. The wind hits my cheeks and I shiver in the cold. With the crisps in my coat pocket I twist open the lid and take a swig of the alcohol.

His body is just in front of the head lights... I didn't hit him, I know I didn't. I don't close the door of the car, in case that wakes either of them up. With few, unsteady steps I come to stand next to his body.

Dead?

There is nothing better for me to do. The vodka smells of vinegar, that is my first thought. My first reaction to the taste? Is to spit it out... along with vomit.

I can feel the vile coming up my throat and I don't want to know. I don't want to know if Carl is dead.

WHY HIM?! CARL WAS ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS!

Tears are welling up and I fall to my knees. My waist stings violently and that only causes me to abrupt into more tears.

'Carl?' I whisper in my whiny and croaky voice. 'Carl!' I sob and shake his body. His face is rested on the rough road on his cheek. his stomach is facing the ground and his back to the sky. Blood is drizzling from his head.

I lean forward on my knees and touch two fingers to his neck, praying for a beat. Just a beat.

I left Charlie there... I LEFT HIM!

Carls body moves and I scurry back, both my hands behind me to hold me from falling. I bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out in pain.

What sane sister leaves their brother...? Tell me please because I don't know.

But he's dead, there's nothing we could do...

'Carl?' I whimper. I dare myself to kneel forward again and to look in his eyes. 'Carl?'

I let out a sigh because Carl... of course he is alive. His eyes may look dead but there is that smile which creeps on his face and tells me other wise.