The Purification (From the Ashes We Will Rise: Book One)

Chapter 19

 "All right, that's enough," Rick snapped. "Anybody that wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance."

Everyone was silent. For the first time in a few days, everything was completely quiet. It was worse than the arguing. But at least the kid still had a chance when we were all fighting.

"You once said that we don't kill the living," Dale argued, putting up his last defense.

"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us," Rick sighed before turning to me. "And for all you know, kid, Randall out there is the one who shot you."

"But I don't know that for sure, do I? And that's beside the point. Vengeance isn't justice, plain and simple," I stated.

"Don't you see?" Dale asked, exacerbated. "If we do this, the people we were—the world we knew—is dead. And this new world is ugly. It's...harsh. It's survival of the fittest. And that's a world I don't want to live in, and I don't believe that any of you do. I can't. Please, let's do what's right. Is there anyone else that's going to stand with Liam and me? I barely know the kid, and he's with me."

After a moment of silence, Andrea spoke up, "he's right. We should try and find another way."

"Anybody else?" Rick asked, looking around the room.

When no one else spoke up, I saw the tears form in Dale's eyes, "are you all going to watch too? No, you'll hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering another human. Whoa. I won't be a party to it." Dale tightly gripped his hat before going to the front door, only stopping to speak to Daryl. "You're right. This group is broken."

Once darkness overtook the sky, Daryl, Shane, and Rick brought Randall to the barn. Dale was right. Only no one was hiding in their tents. Everyone was sitting around the fire, unable to look at each other. Well, I had no problem looking at them. They were the ones who could look at me. Everyone looked up when I heard a stick snap, and Rick emerged from the woods...with Carl.

"We're keeping him in custody for now," Rick said as Carl entered his mother's arms.

"I'm gonna find Dale," Andrea smiled. She may have jumped ship at the very last minute, but hey, better late than never.

"Carl, go inside," Lori ordered softly, but he didn't budge. "Now, please."

"He followed us," Rick spoke once Carl was gone. "He wanted to watch...I couldn't—"

"It's okay," Lori spoke softly but firmly. "That's okay."

As I got up to return to the house, the blood-curdling screams began. While the others were picking up their guns, I took off running. I followed the sounds of screams, and I could have thrown up at the site. A walker pinned down Dale. Without hesitation, I pulled the knife from my belt and barreled into the walker's skull. As I threw the corpse to the side, I began screaming at the others. I looked down at Dale with a grimace on my face. The walker had torn his stomach open.

Daryl was the first to reach us, followed by Andrea and Rick. Everything was so chaotic. Andrea dropped to her knees and was by Dale's side the entire time. That's when the rest of the group arrived. When I made eye contact with my brother, he pulled me into his arms. Rick was screaming for Hershel, but we all knew it was too late. The walker shredded what was Dale's stomach, so much so that his organs were exposed. When Hershel arrived, that's when all hell broke loose. There was absolutely nothing he could do for Dale. He was suffering. There was only one thing left to do.

Rick pulled his gun from his holster and held it above Dale's head, but he couldn't do it. None of them could. I pulled away from my brother and walked over to Rick, slowly taking the gun from his hand and lowering myself to the ground. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes as he took my free hand and held on to it. Tight. As I cocked the gun back and lined it up with his forehead, Dale did what he could to help and pressed his forehead to the gun's muzzle.

"I'm so sorry," I cried and pulled the trigger before I could talk myself out of it.

I stood up, clutching my stomach, handing the gun back to Rick, and walked towards the house. I couldn't stand to look at any of them. Not after that. I walked straight past my bedroom and into the bathroom. When I looked into the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself. I ran my hand along my face. I knew my hair had grown, but I wasn't expecting a well-filled beard. I had never been able to grow a full beard before, and my hair had turned into a wily mess. I walked into the bathroom and poked around a little before finding electric clippers. I set them on the sink counter before turning the water on and getting into the shower.

There was something incredibly therapeutic about watching the grime run off my body. I know it was a complete waste of water, but I just stood for what felt like hours underneath the stream of hot water. Who the hell am I? I just killed someone. A real person. Not a walker, a person. Someone I'd grown to care about in the short time I've known him. I know it had to be done. I also knew that no one, except maybe Daryl or Shane, would have been able to do that. So instead of letting them decide, I did what I thought was right.

Once I got out of the shower, I picked up the clippers and shaved my head. As I watched the hair fall to the floor, I felt this weight lifted from my shoulders. I needed to start something new. I decided to keep the beard, but I shaped it up so it didn't look so rough and unruly. When I finally re-dressed, I looked in the mirror again and saw a completely new person. I could hear the others downstairs in the kitchen but couldn't deal with them right now. Instead, I walked into my room, pulled back the covers, snuggled into my son, and let sleep come as a relief for what had to be the worst day of my life.