Status: Am still trying to write, but school is keeping me really busy
Hopeless Wanderer
Nineteen
I heard gunfire and somehow I knew. This wasn’t just the prison group firing at rotters, somebody on the other side of the fence was shooting in. Carl, too, perked up at the sound. “Carl, get your sister and go,” I ordered as I rushed to find my own gear. There wasn’t a windfall in the bag since I was only planning on taking as much as Rick was forcing me to take. It would be enough to get him started, though. I slid the backpack over his arms as he tied up his shoes, his fingers working steadily without any of the fearful shaking I felt in my own.
“Do you remember how to get there?” He nodded his head. There was a rendezvous point set up outside the prison, in case anything should happen and we had to get out. Carl had the idea when I told him about my dad’s emergency plans: in case of tornado, go to the basement; in case of fire, meet out by the stop sign on the corner of the street. Nothing in his emergency preparedness binder covered what to do in case of rotters. Daryl even helped by setting up a blind in a couple trees so we could wait for each other in relative safety.
I choked back the urge to cry as the boy scrambled away from me, towards his sister.I wanted to pull him into my arms and hold him tight. There just wasn’t time for goodbye. At least, not the one I had planned. I wondered if I would ever see him again, if he would even make it out alive. My memory wandered to the night he showed me his scar from being shot once already. He was going to make it.
I made my way outside, looking for a way to help, for a way to ensure Carl and Judith would get away quickly and safely. In the yard I saw a man with a square, stubbled jaw sporting an eye patch standing over a bloodied face. My body betrayed me, screaming out at the sight of him. It didn’t even phase the man as his fist came down powerfully against the already eaten flesh. I ducked down to avoid a spray of bullets, still stupidly screaming Rick's name. I hoped Carl was long gone by now and wouldn't have to see this.
I left the relative safety of my shield, ducking down trying to create as small a target as possible, as I ran to him. The stranger had Rick’s neck in his hands, squeezing so hard his hands were white and shaking.
“You’re killing him,” I screamed. I don’t know what I was expecting. The man clearly knew exactly what he was doing. I didn’t know what had happened between these two men, but the grim look of satisfaction on his face as Rick slowly stopped struggling told me this was personal. An aberrant smile twisted his lips. Then, just like that, he let go. Michonne’s katana pierced through his chest like a twisted shish kebab.
I reached Rick’s side. All of his energy was sapped from his broken body and I didn't know how in the world I was going to get him to safety. Michonne had moved on, swiping at the necks of rotters around her. I looked around the chaotic nightmare, willing myself to wake up.
Everybody thinks that in a time of crisis, if it really came down to it, strength and courage will find you and you will accomplish heroic feats. With the drive to reach Rick gone, I panicked instead. It was easy to be brave in the prison walls and ensure Carl was prepared to escape. It was easy to be brave and race to Rick before my mind could even wrap itself around the idea that I was in danger. Its a different story to be face-to-face with this level of human carnage. The only firefight I'd ever participated in was in a first person shooter video game, and honestly, I didn't like it that much. I only played once. Nothing had prepared me for this.
I sat next to him, with his head pulled into my lap as I hunched over him. I idly brushed his sweaty hair out of his face. My heart collided with my ribs as it beat faster than I ever thought humanly possible. If it wasn't necessary to fuel my sobbing I'm not entirely sure I would've been able to breathe at all. "Rick, I need you," I cried. "You have to get up; you have to help me." A finger carefully wiped at his lower lip, trying to clear away the blood.
His bright eyes opened, one almost lost behind a swollen eyelid, but he made no movement to show he recognized me. Almost entirely with my help, he struggled to his feet. His arm wrapped around me and we set to work getting out of this rotter infested mess. He didn’t say a word until we were standing outside the compound, at the edge of the forest. Strangely, this had been the spot I last saw a dirty, wild Will. This had been the spot Rick wouldn’t allow me to go, but here we were. I tried leaving the prison, but the world ripped it away from me first. I’d just violently lost everything for the second time. Stressed laughter erupted out of me at the thought.
“Do you remember how to get there?” He nodded his head. There was a rendezvous point set up outside the prison, in case anything should happen and we had to get out. Carl had the idea when I told him about my dad’s emergency plans: in case of tornado, go to the basement; in case of fire, meet out by the stop sign on the corner of the street. Nothing in his emergency preparedness binder covered what to do in case of rotters. Daryl even helped by setting up a blind in a couple trees so we could wait for each other in relative safety.
I choked back the urge to cry as the boy scrambled away from me, towards his sister.I wanted to pull him into my arms and hold him tight. There just wasn’t time for goodbye. At least, not the one I had planned. I wondered if I would ever see him again, if he would even make it out alive. My memory wandered to the night he showed me his scar from being shot once already. He was going to make it.
I made my way outside, looking for a way to help, for a way to ensure Carl and Judith would get away quickly and safely. In the yard I saw a man with a square, stubbled jaw sporting an eye patch standing over a bloodied face. My body betrayed me, screaming out at the sight of him. It didn’t even phase the man as his fist came down powerfully against the already eaten flesh. I ducked down to avoid a spray of bullets, still stupidly screaming Rick's name. I hoped Carl was long gone by now and wouldn't have to see this.
I left the relative safety of my shield, ducking down trying to create as small a target as possible, as I ran to him. The stranger had Rick’s neck in his hands, squeezing so hard his hands were white and shaking.
“You’re killing him,” I screamed. I don’t know what I was expecting. The man clearly knew exactly what he was doing. I didn’t know what had happened between these two men, but the grim look of satisfaction on his face as Rick slowly stopped struggling told me this was personal. An aberrant smile twisted his lips. Then, just like that, he let go. Michonne’s katana pierced through his chest like a twisted shish kebab.
I reached Rick’s side. All of his energy was sapped from his broken body and I didn't know how in the world I was going to get him to safety. Michonne had moved on, swiping at the necks of rotters around her. I looked around the chaotic nightmare, willing myself to wake up.
Everybody thinks that in a time of crisis, if it really came down to it, strength and courage will find you and you will accomplish heroic feats. With the drive to reach Rick gone, I panicked instead. It was easy to be brave in the prison walls and ensure Carl was prepared to escape. It was easy to be brave and race to Rick before my mind could even wrap itself around the idea that I was in danger. Its a different story to be face-to-face with this level of human carnage. The only firefight I'd ever participated in was in a first person shooter video game, and honestly, I didn't like it that much. I only played once. Nothing had prepared me for this.
I sat next to him, with his head pulled into my lap as I hunched over him. I idly brushed his sweaty hair out of his face. My heart collided with my ribs as it beat faster than I ever thought humanly possible. If it wasn't necessary to fuel my sobbing I'm not entirely sure I would've been able to breathe at all. "Rick, I need you," I cried. "You have to get up; you have to help me." A finger carefully wiped at his lower lip, trying to clear away the blood.
His bright eyes opened, one almost lost behind a swollen eyelid, but he made no movement to show he recognized me. Almost entirely with my help, he struggled to his feet. His arm wrapped around me and we set to work getting out of this rotter infested mess. He didn’t say a word until we were standing outside the compound, at the edge of the forest. Strangely, this had been the spot I last saw a dirty, wild Will. This had been the spot Rick wouldn’t allow me to go, but here we were. I tried leaving the prison, but the world ripped it away from me first. I’d just violently lost everything for the second time. Stressed laughter erupted out of me at the thought.