EXTINCTION EVENT | CARL GRIMES

e l e v e n ↣ cul-de-sac

I nod in agreement.

We both cross the street, the slight echoing of our boots against the cement is the sound that breaks the absolute stillness of the abandoned neighborhood.

"I'll clear it." Carl says as we make our way onto the front yard of the house. "You stay back."

"What? Why?" My harsh whisper almost turns into a sudden shout.

"Because you've never cleared a tight space before." He huffs with his groggy voice.

"Actually yes we have. The infirmary?" I bring up, recalling the first few moments the boy and I met.

"That was one room that had zero walkers." He retorts, making the O shape with his hand.

"Fine, I'll wait out here." I roll my eyes and lean back against the wall beside the front door. "Don't take too long."

I watch as the boy takes a few steps back before gently yet quickly flinging the front door open. Something blocks the door before it can slam against the wall.

We both look at each other, not knowing what could be blocking it.

Carl's wide stance and sudden concern showcases how serious this boy is about going into survival mode. With the pistol in his hand, he slowly peeks his head in the doorway and takes a look around.

He lets out a sigh of relief and lowers his gun a little. Bending down, he picks up something and reveals—to me—the scraggly blanket that was caught underneath it.

"Okay." The boy says, tossing the blanket on the porch. "Wait here." He says as he eyes the rest of the room.

I sniffle into the sleeve of my jacket. "You got it."

Carl enters the house in complete silence and hyperawareness. After all this time, he hasn't forgotten what he's doing out here.

When he's no longer in my vision, I break my gaze away from the front door and look out into the neighborhood. Most of these houses have two stories, such a thing I'd rarely gotten the chance to see growing up.

The stale air and the quiet ambiance of this clearly Georgian neighborhood remains more crisp than I remember before. The serenity might be due to the calming lifelessness in the air.

It could also just be the neighborhood itself.

Although rundown, it's not hard to picture what life was like here before the outbreak. I even used to do it all the time when we'd pass streets like these on a long car ride home.

I take a glance to my left and slightly prop myself up from my stance against the white wooden wall. I shiver a bit as I look down the street at the rest of the houses. Sure enough, at the end of the neighborhood lies a cul-de-sac.

I huff to myself, humbled to believe that it took the end of the world—the end of human life, even—for myself to live my dream of taking residence in a neighborhood that has a cul-de-sac.

A sudden dizziness knocks me back into my position on the wall. I've only been able to fight this feeling for so long.

Ringing in my ears takes over my senses as I shrink down into a curled up position on the porch. I sit with my back against the wall, my knees pulled up to my chest and my head in my hands.