Found Book One

Visitor

I open the door and motion for Carl to walk in, "Thank you m'lady," he says bowing. "You're welcome kind, sir," I say bowing as well.

I shut the door after Carl is inside. Carl's bag thuds on the table as he begins to unpack it, I turn around.

A gasp leaves my throat as I spot Rick through the kitchen doorway. I rush over to his unconscious body. "Rick?" I say grabbing his shoulder. I turn him onto his back.

Carl kneels beside me, we grab the man's arms and pull him up. I groan lightly as we shuffle over to the couch.

I gently lay him down and look up at Carl. I quickly place my fingers on his neck. His pulse is strong under my hand. "I think he has some broken ribs, maybe a dislocation. But we don't have the medical supplies to fix that."

Carl bites his lip, "What can you do?" he asks. I furrow my eyebrows, "What do we have?" I ask.

He runs out of the room and comes back with all the medical stuff we found in the houses we searched. I unbutton Rick's shirt and slide it off his shoulders.

I feel the areas of bruising, his ribs aren't shattered but I can feel the breakage and swelling.

"Give me the ace bandages," I say looking over Rick's bruised chest.

Carl hands them to me and moves so that he can lift his father's upper body. I wrap his broken ribs quickly and secure the bandages with pins.

Carl places his father back on the cushions. "We should get some rest," Carl says sitting on the floor.

I slump down beside him and lean my head on his shoulder. He takes my hand in his and turns it. His fingers brush over the ridges in my palm, "How did you know what to do?" he asks.

I frown and pull my hand out of his grip. "I- um, I learned how when my mom and dad split up my mom started dating a woman named Suzan. She wasn't the nicest to mom and me. And my mom was too scared to go to the hospital. So I went to an EMT class after school to protect her."

His fingers trail across my back, he wraps his arm around my waist. "Did she ever hit you?" he asks, "Yeah, sometimes," I whisper.

"She mostly just used me as her ashtray. I was the quietest," I mumble, he presses his lips to my temple.

I fall asleep against him. All I can focus on is the warmth of his embrace.

"P-Please! I can't do it," someone whispers drawing me out of sleep. "Carl?" I mutter sitting up.

Carl is scrambling across the room away from a groaning, wheezing Rick. Carl holds up his gun but lets it fall into his lap.

Rick grabs his son's ankle. I gasp, and draw my gun, "Carl," he groans.

"Stay inside. Protect each other," he whispers before slumping onto the floor.

I let out a sigh and lower my gun. I back up and plop down onto the couch. "Are you okay?" I ask him, he nods and wipes tears from his cheeks. He leans down and kisses his father's head.

He shrugs, I stare at his face in the dim moonlight. "It's okay if you're not," I say tilting my head. He closes his eyes and leans back onto the cushions.

I shift at the sound of footsteps I sit up slowly. I blink away the brightness of the sun filling the room.

"Good morning," Rick chuckles, I look over to him he's leaning against the wall with his arms resting on his knees.

Carl groans lightly and turns onto his side. I poke Carl's chest and he opens his eyes to look at me. He smiles at me before looking over to his father.

The grin only widens as he sits up. "You two went out yesterday. Didn't you," he says kicking the bag we used for supplies.

Carl nods and Rick points to the canvas bag. "Well we had more, but we ate it," Carl mutters.

"What was it?" Rick asks. Carl cracks a smile, "112 ounces of pudding," he says. Rick chuckles lightly and grabs his stomach, "That's not too bad," he says.

I hold out my hand, "I think what Carl meant to say was 112 ounces of pudding, each," I say.

The man on the floor laughs harder, this time but it sputters out into coughs.

Carl kisses my cheek gently. "Y'all should get something to eat and we should start moving in a few days," the older man coughs.

Carl stands and lifts me to my feet, I dig out three bowls and grab one of the bottles of water.

The dark haired teen pours cereal into the bowls. I sprinkle instant milk onto it and then water, "Get spoons," I say.

I carry the bowls into the living room, I hand Rick a bowl and sit on the hardwood floor in front of the couch.

Carl sits between us, we all chow down on our cereal. I glance at the two men beside me, my eyes move to the window.

A shadow passes over the curtain, "Rick," I breathe out pointing to the window.

Carl jumps up drawing his gun, a small knock sounds at the door. I stand with my weapon ready.

Rick climbs onto the couch and looks through the peep-hole, "Carl, it's for you," he smiles.

Carl stands and runs to the window. A smile covers his face as he sprints up to the back door.

In a few seconds he is back in the house with Michonne. "I saw you leave, I followed your trail and your pudding cans here," she laughs.

"We'll go out tomorrow and get supplies, but for now you two go to upstairs. I'll take care of Rick," Michonne says pushing us up the stairs.

Carl gives me a glance and wiggles his eyebrows and smirks. "Carl, they are adults. And as long as they're quiet I don't care," I whisper as we go into the bedroom.