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H I M
For some dumbass reason, they let Eleanor go on a run.
By they I mean Glenn. My father would never have allowed such a thing, had he been aware of the situation. But Glenn was in charge and Glenn said yes. To Eleanor. Who was fifteen. Younger than me. And not even half as good with a gun, preferring a knife which meant closer contact. Basically, she was an unnecessary risk to the whole task. Even if it was just to a supposedly stocked warehouse clear of the dead and back.
At first, I wasn't sure if I was just annoyed that I hadn't thought to ask before she did or if I was annoyed that she didn't tell me she was leaving until she was hugging me goodbye. It's last second. She had told me. Sorry. It didn't seem too sympathetic because she seemed thrilled to be getting to leave on such an important errand. Excited to have a purpose. Then she loaded into the van next to Noah and waved at me through the back window until the gates closed behind them.
And then I spent the next couple hours being annoyed that I wasn't with them. I wondered what Eleanor had done to convince them to let her tag along. I was sure whatever case she presented would not work in my favor, as I had a father who was adamant about my safety and that I stayed inside the walls. It almost wasn't fair that Maggie and Glenn let Eleanor get away with things my father would wring my neck over, I couldn't help thinking so selfishly.
I wasn't even all too worried. They had all left in such a cheerful mood, why would I fret?
Even the day itself felt harmless, a crisp and gentle autumn afternoon.
Stupid.
Because then my father came through the front door, pale.
"Dad?"
He said Eleanor's name and something about the infirmary, then I saw blood on his shirt. Suddenly I was halfway across the yard, barefoot, my father following closely behind. I don't remember the whole way there or stepping onto the porch, I heard my name called, then suddenly Glenn was standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders.
"Carl, we can't go in there, man." He was saying. "Carl, Carl. Breathe, man, look at me."
"What happened?" When he took too long to answer I nearly shoved through him, but another set of arms came from behind, my father's, helping restrain me. "What the hell happened?"
