EXTINCTION EVENT | CARL GRIMES

p a r a l l e l s

"You're right." She says. A weights lifts off of my shoulders as the girl reluctantly agrees

───── CH 16 ─────

M E G A N

"The back door is wide open." He says, putting his hand on his forehead and taking a deep breath.

Sympathy fills the boy's entire attitude as he realizes what his decisions did to us. To me. My eyes make sure to reinforce his guilty feelings as I clench my jaw and keep my gaze locked on him.

He breathes heavily, his eyes tracing from me, to the wagon, to the floor. Repeating the process a few times.

The two of us clearly have different reactions to finding out that our food and water are gone. That makes sense as it is clearly one person's fault yet it affects the both of us. Extremely negatively.

Freshly processing what happened back at the prison, my mind quickly turns to anger.

Not even an hour ago, the boy and I seemingly had a place to call home. A home that we willingly left in the first place due to Carl's selfishness and relentless coaxing.

Not even an hour ago, we had supplies. Supplies that we left because the boy knew we'd be back. He was preparing us to come back to this house. He knew that the prison wasn't reliable anymore. He knew not to get his own hopes up.

Yet, I didn't know the safety of the prison was something we were even going to have to hope for. I once believed that it would always just be there.

Now, we're without a secure home, without our people and without our supplies. All three being the consequences of the guilty boy's actions.

"Look, Megan." The boy says. His voice instantly makes my jaw clench and my fists tighten. "I didn't mean for any o—"

"Save it, Carl." I spit at him, making the boy not hesitate to close his mouth, as he was probably also prepared for me to lash out at him. "Just save it."

"I knew we shouldn't have taken those supplies." I huff out.

───── CH 18 ─────

C A R L

Carefully placing respectful steps toward the right side of the church, I peak my head in the office door. A feeling of déjà vu washes over me when I feel a sense of familiar relief.

The tempting sight of stacks of several canned goods nearly makes my mouth water, before I remember what happened the last time I found supplies.

I knew we shouldn't have taken those supplies.

Megan's spiteful—yet honest—words ring in my ears, repeating themselves over and over again, intensifying as I stare at the colorful cans that have the ability to resolve my painful hunger.

Sucking in a quick breath, my feet gently march forward and grab the doorknob to the office door. I close the white door, removing the cans of food from my sight.

Though rejecting the supplies in front of me might not be the smartest decision to make in light of my severe hunger, it's the choice I must make. Not only for myself, but for the girl and my mom. Maybe it's also simply for the fact that I'm standing in a church.