Don't Get Dead | TWD | Volume 1

[16] The Farmhouse

"So, do we ring the bell?" Glenn looked back at me, but I could only shrug in response. From what I could see through the windows, the lights that illuminated the porch, it seemed like it was the right house. "I mean, it looks like people live here."

We continued walking up to the house, Glenn bearing a shotgun in his arms. I walked silently behind them, the thought of Carl never leaving my mind. Is he okay? How did he get shot? This was all my fault—if I hadn't lost Sophia, he would never have been out there.

T-Dog rolled his eyes, barely able to hold the blanket over his own shoulders. "We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we? Having to be considerate?"

"Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?"

I jumped at the new voice, but I couldn't see the person past Glenn or T-Dog. She sounded like the same one that took Lori on the horse. I took a few steps to the side, now able to see past Glenn, and the woman glanced over at me.

"Yeah, we closed it," Glenn got out. "Did the . . . did the latch and everything."

I looked over at Glenn. He was always a little awkward talking to . . . well, anybody. Only now, he seemed so much worse. Was it because of the woman? Probably. She was around his age, and it had been a little while since he'd seen anyone closer to his age. It was kind of cute.

"Hi again," Glenn gave a very awkward smile. "We—uh, met before, briefly. I'm Glenn."

"I'm Maggie."

"Look, we came to help," T-Dog stated before Glenn could get any more words out. I was grateful for that. Maggie stood up, moving closer to us. "If there's anything we can do—"

He was cut short, groaning at the pain his arm was giving him. I felt myself frown, knowing there was nothing I could really do to stop his pain. It was a little distressing to me. She glanced down at the bandage on his arm, not taking her eyes off the wound.

"It's not a bite," he told her quickly. "I . . . I cut my arm pretty bad, though."

"We'll get it looked at," she walked closer to us to get to the door. "I'll let them know you're here."

Before she could enter the house, Glenn spoke again. "We have antibiotics and painkillers. I already gave him some," he gestured to T-Dog with the bottle. "If Carl needs any. . ."

"How is Carl?" I asked.

"He'll be okay," Maggie told me, but I knew she was lying. "My dad, Hershel, he's a vet and-and he's going to help him."

I pursed my lips, glancing at the ground.

"Come on in," Maggie nodded to the door. "I'll make you something to eat."

She led us into the house and into a room immediately after. Inside was Lori and Rick, sitting next to a bed where Carl was lying, unconscious. Rick was leaning over, his head in his hands as he looked at Carl, and Lori was at his side.

My eyes widened. All I could do was stare at Carl, his pale, lifeless body unmoving on the bed. It was my fault he was like this. If I had protected Sophia, Carl would never have been shot. This is all my fault.

Glenn removed his hat, being the first to speak up. "Hey."

Rick didn't even look over, but he answered, his voice quiet. "Hey."

"Um . . . we're here, okay?"

Lori nodded, not able to look over either. "Thank you."

"Whatever you need," T-Dog told them.

I tore my eyes from Carl, following Maggie out of the room.

It was taking every ounce of my energy to keep it together. I'd messed up terribly. The sight of Carl, so little and pale and fragile, had given my insides a rotten feeling. If it hadn't been for the slight rise and fall of his chest, I would have thought he was already dead.