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Chapter Four ✶ Silver Clouds with Grey Linings
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"Glenn! Glenn!"
There were only two possible things that could force Wyatt Smith to run, and those were danger and danger he'd caused. Usually, it was the latter, like when he'd weave through endless school corridors before cramming himself into the corner of the farthest bathroom stall.
Come here, Wyatt! The assholes from his class would taunt, as if he was going to get up and reply, Oh, sure thing! Let's hug it out! Needless to say, his mouth liked to betray him even at the best of times, and it landed him in a fuckton of trouble.
He tried to take his mind off of the burning, the rusty ache that crept into his lungs and the screaming from his calves. Expectedly, the first thought that struck him was of his mother, right after his last suspension.
You've got to stop asking for it, Wybie, she had told him countless times, but that time it really seemed like she had meant it. But it wasn't his fault ─ what else was he supposed to do when Derek Chapman told him he was glad his Mom was finally kicking the bucket?
There was a special place in Hell reserved for Derek Shithead Chapman.
His second thought went to Carl. Rick had plucked him up from the ground like a rag doll, blood smearing onto his hands, his shirt, so much red. The idiot who had shot him ─ Otis, some bumbling wreck with a deep southern drawl, who did seem to feel incredibly guilty ─ was leading Rick and Shane towards his farmhouse. Wyatt, meanwhile, was assigned the task of finding the rest of the group and letting them know what had happened. Lori would be devastated, he realised. How was he going to break the news?
"Glenn!" He cried again, his voice cracking.
His third thought went to Glenn. Why was Wyatt calling his name? At the first sign of an emergency, he had called on Glenn for help. Funny.
The fire was wild and angry now, blossoming through his lungs and sticking its thorns between his ribs. It might have been an ill-conceived plan, in hindsight, to send the asthmatic child running like an Olympic sprinter through the woods by himself, but he imagined that Shane would be a lot more helpful to Rick than he would (as much as it pained him to admit something nice about Officer Dickwad). So, he was running.
