Survive ( twd carlgrimes)

Chapter 15

"He was a clever man then." Rick joins in.
I look down at my feet, not really wanting to talk about my dad anymore.
"He was." I agree.

We keep walking and Abbie comes to stand beside me as I walk.
"Hey, are you okay?" I ask her.
She's quiet for a minute before she answers.
"Fine." She blurts, too quickly.
"No, you're not, whats wrong?"
"I, um, i'm..... I'm kinda scared Maddie."

I feel my face drop. I want to tell her everything will get better, but we don't know that. I have to be brave for her. But she has to learn to be brave too and the only way to be brave is if you have hope. Hope that we will be alive tomorrow, in a weeks time, a year...

"Abbie I wish I could tell you that tomorrow this can all go away, but we don't know when it will..." I trail off, unsure what to say next.
Carl speaks for me.
"We have Eugine, he can help, he will fix this. We just have to hang on until then. Okay? " He assures her.

She looks at me with tears in the back of her eyes and I want so badly to be the one to take them away. To replace them with her smile. But I can't.

"How can I be brave like you?" She whispers.
I shake my head in disbelief.
Where did this come from?
I fall back with Abbie to talk to her privately.
"I'm not Brave, Abs. I'm just angry. All the time."
"Why?"
I shrug. "Life just isn't fair but for some reason we were handed a very short straw. I guess after everything that's happened, I just can't let it go."

I try to change the dull mood around us with some encouraging words.
"I've learned from the past couple of years that, you don't have to be battered to be broken. You just can't let them break you. I want you to remember that fear isn't real. It's all inside your head. Maybe that can help you, maybe it'll help me be braver too."

The corner of her mouth moves up to form a small smile.
"Okay." She agrees. She walks next to me and I can tell she has calmed down a little, not completely though. She still clutches her knife hard in her hand. My mother doesn't approve of her having her own knife but she can't complain anymore, it's for Abbies own safety.

We cut off out of the woods and step onto a road. It takes an hours of walking on the narrow road to finally come across a small town.
My hometown. It's just like I remember, except now its all dirty and run down with a few walkers in windows of different shops.

I see three walkers on the road. Michonne takes care of the first walker, taking it's head off with her katana. Rick takes the second, shoving a knife in the base of it's skull. And Daryl takes the last, sending his arrow from his crossbow flying into the walkers forehead.

The road is clear for now.
"Thats a nice piece you got there." I say to Daryl, pointing to his crossbow.
He doesn't respond he just shrugs.
"How'd you get it?" I ask
"Lets just say I had to fend for myself when I was little, it's been with me ever since."

"Dad taught me to shoot arrows too."
"How'd he die?" He asks.
I'm growing tired of repeating myself but I respond anyways.
"Car crash."
"Can we stop talking about him please?" My mother inturupts, talking to someone other than her kids for what I think is the first time since we joined the group.

I clench my jaw and try to ignore her. I should be allowed talk about my dad without her permission. It feels like every word that come out of her mouth annoys me and I struggle to keep a cool head.

I turn back to Daryl and focus on our conversation instead.
"Was it just you that you had to fend for?" I begin
"Nah, me and my older brother, Meryl." He tells me
"Is he gone?" I whisper
"Yeah" he shortly replies and by the way he said it I can tell the conversation is over.

I walk next to my family and I share a few glances with Nick to see if he's okay, he just nods everytime, telling me he is. How odd to be walking with him down the streets we walked on when we were little. Everything looks the same, just worn down

We pass the old sweet shop that I used to go to when I was little, but the beautiful memories are ruined by a walker banging on the window. I notice who it is instantly.
Mrs. Campbell.
She was the owner. A very nice lady who would smile at me everytime she saw me. She wouldn't have wanted to be this way.
I hesitate nervously before marching across the street and open the door slightly, waiting for her to come out.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rick growls.
I ignore him and take out my knife.

When she comes to the door I push her against the doorframe with one hand and thrust my other hand forward, my knife meeting her skull. She falls with a thud and I close the door over again. 
Everyone looks at me funny.
"Did I stutter? What the hell were you doing?" Rick bellows.
"I knew her, I couldn't just leave her." I explain.

We continue walking and I think we might get to the house before nightfall, maybe my estimations were wrong and we were closer than I thought. I don't care as long as we get there soon.

A few hours have passed and it's starting to get cold. Abbie has her arm hugging around Nick's waist and he has his arm on her shoulder, he tries to use the friction to warm her by moving his hands up and down her arms. My mother has been wearing the same expression as she did when she got out of the carts. It's not a good one either. She must be terrified of the inevitable questions. I'll talk to her later.
For now we keep walking and try to avoid the thought of how the dark is quickly creeping up on us.

Eventually, we turn onto the familar road that I used to run up and down on, playing with my big brother and my once best friend, Luke. The street is empty and the houses vacant. Nearly all the doors are swung wide open, abandoned.

My mothers loud gasp interrupts my thought. I spin around to see what's wrong. She sobs in front of the whole group. Everyone is confused at first, even me. That is until we follow her gaze to a walker sprawled across the ground. Her legs don't work and she uses her arms to pull herself towards us, but she barely moves at all. She used to be an old lady with her gray hair pinned up in a bun. She wears an apron, that is now covered in dirt and blood. I recognize her straight away.

Mrs. Laker. She lived across from us, she was married to a man named George and he used to let me go on his lawnmower. Mrs. Laker used to love making us cookies and we loved watching her make them.

"Do you want to do it, mom." I ask her.
"No, I ... I can't" she gulps.
"Your gonna have to sooner or later." I say as I stride up to Mrs Laker, or at least what was Mrs Laker.
"I'm sorry that this happened to you." I murmur as I put her down.

I find myself getting more comfortable killing the walkers. It's not so hard when they aren't moving towards you.

We start walking on again and Rick gives me a dirty look.
"You can't go around the whole neighborhood hood, putting down everyone you used to know."
"She was my neighbour, we were close." I explain to him
"Sorry." He doesn't sound sorry. He doesn't sound like he cares at all.

I can see the gate to our house now. Just a few more steps and we will be there. I quicken my pace as fling the small gate open, glad to see the door to the house was still shut. I take in its familar appearence, just like the rest of my family does.

Nobody from the group enters without our say so, and I'm glad for their patience, but I can't keep them waiting. It's cold and it's been an extremely long day, so I walk through the small front garden and up the short steps to the door, opening it and then stepping inside.