Who We Are | TWD

.008

Rick takes down the last two traps that were left untouched by anything. I wish they had also been holding a rabbit when we found them, but the three that we had been lucky enough to get are more than I could've asked for. At the same time that Rick is finishing the tedious process of untying the knot hooking the wire trap to the tree, the first scream rings out as clear as day.

The scream belongings to a person, I'm sure. From the uniqueness of the strained vocals crying out, it's not hard to tell as much.

Instinct takes over without asking my permission. Before I know it, I'm taking off through the woods, trying my best to stick to a deer trail that weaves through a few bushes and between a cluster of trees. Leaves that manage to still stick to their branches latch onto my clothes as I pass them by, managing to slightly slow me down as if I'm not going slowly enough already. Even as I'm moving along, I know it feels like a stupid idea, but I can't control my own motions. Even over the cries belonging to the stranger that I have yet to find, I can still hear Michonne and Rick shouting for me as I run. I don't stop or pause to listen to them as I go. At the same time, I realize Carl is at my side, jogging along beside me. They're shouting for him, too.

He's running, as well, acting just as determined as I am. The only difference between me and him is that he can actually run. My run is more of a labored power walk that doesn't get me very far as quickly as I'd like. He passes me easily and follows the same trail that I had been on when Michonne tightly grabs onto my arm, finally catching up to me and holding me back. I think better than fighting back and trying to get free because I know it will be no use. Instead, I stay in place while Michonne keeps her arms around my torso and watch as Rick passes us, chasing after Carl before he can emerge through a thicket of briars. He catches him just as Carl is raising his gun.

"No!" Rick hisses to both of us as we're drug off to the side of the trail and forced to crouch down instead of standing straight up. It's hard to stay put and quiet down like the two adults are instructing us to as the screaming continues. I want to make it end, one way or another. It feels like the only humane thing that we can do in this world.

Two gun shots ring out sharply above the growling of the walkers. I don't want to see anything that's going on just ahead of us, but my curiosity gets the best of me, as it usually does. I break Michonne's grip on my body just enough to peek over the briars and shrubs in front of us so I can look into the grassy clearing in time to see a blonde man getting his face ripped apart by walkers. His skin peels off in long, stringy pieces, as if it were melted bubble gum or taffy. I want to look away, but I can't. My eyes linger on what's in front of me as a churning enters my stomach.

It's one of the most disgusting things I've ever witnessed in my life, but I sadly know that it won't be the last.

"We need to help him!" Carl cries, urging Rick to let him move on. He moves to raise his gun again, but Rick forcefully shoves it down with his hand.

"We can't. It's too late." Michonne doesn't loosen her grip on me anymore than she already has as the man makes eye contact with us, probably seeing our eight, bright eyes silently watching while staying in hiding. He screams for help, but even I can now confirm that he's too far gone.

Almost as if on cue, several more walkers funnel into the clearly from the woods, each one pouncing on the growing pile of death as the screams are silenced and replaced by the sound of muscle being torn from bone. I know the man is gone now, and perhaps would've been, even if we had been able to do something.