The Ruined Path -- Remake (Carl Grimes Gay Fanfiction)

12: Day Four

We had spent a whole day scavenging supplies from in and around the village. Among our findings was a dusty, rusted yet surprisingly intact and able R.V, which had been left secure in the garage of one of the large houses. It was fueled and contained a fully powered battery, and when we found it, it seemed too good to be true.

Don't jinx things now...

Last night had been quite peaceful. My mind seemed more at ease than it had the night before - Carl had helped with that. His speech may have been slightly unbelievable, given that we'd only known one another for two days, but it was certainly the sort of thing I needed to gain a sense of purpose in this group I'd found myself to be part of.

It was now my fourth day since my encounter with Carl, and the start of what I could only describe - as cliché as it sounded - to be my new life.

Carl was here now, too, with the two of us sitting inside at the table. We had been talking for a while, but - having nothing of interest to say - we had eventually both just started thinking to ourselves.

Meanwhile, Rick, Michonne and Carol made final checks to the R.V. We had decided that, if the R.V was fully operational, then we would begin our journey by first inspecting the source of the gunfire that Carol and Michonne had heard a few days back.

If the survivors there had been killed - which was likely, given the size of the herd they'd manage to attract - then there would more than likely be some supplies left behind.

It felt... wrong; robbing the dead. Nobody would come and bury them, or mourn them, but they would be looted for their valuables. It was s necessary, there was no denying that, but it still felt cruel and inhumane.

'Humane.' When was the last time any of us were humane? It never did anyone any good anyway. It created far more problems than it solved. I knew that first-hand.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"Well, you've not said anything, so... you must be thinking about something," he reasoned.

"Oh, yeah..."

"You don't have to tell me. I mean... If it's about something personal, then -"

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that. I was just thinking... What's the worst thing you've done?" I asked abruptly.

"What do you mean?"

"What's your biggest regret?

"Wow," he laughed cynically as he thought, "I don't know if I can pick one."

"You don't have to answer, if you don't want to," I changed my mind, realizing it was a bit cruel asking him to suddenly start confessing all his sins. If I was in his position, I'd be there all damn day - I think most people would, really.

"If I had to pick one, it'd probably be when -"

Carl was suddenly interrupted when the sound of a loud rattle echoed outside. We both turned and peered out of the window, where thick black fumes billowed out of the R.V's exhaust.

They've got it working!

I guess things are looking up...

The front door was opened and Michonne walked in. Her hands were covered in oil and rust.

"Okay," she beckoned the two of us, "let's get moving."

We both stood up, thankful that something was actually going right, and followed Michonne outside toward the welcoming sight of the working vehicle.

Carol stood alongside Rick, admiring their success.

"It's pretty loud," Carol commented, motioning to the loud, rattling engine.

"In this thing," Rick tapped his fist against the R.V's metal exterior, "who cares how many walkers come out?"

"It's not the walkers I'm worried about," Carol corrected him.

She's right.

Humans have always been humanity's greatest enemy - even now, when people should be working together, we do nothing but kill.

Sometimes I think killing is the only thing we're good at.

"Is everything on?" Carl asked his father, who began to load a duffel bag containing our weapons and ammo into the storage compartment.

"Only the things we need," Rick replied, turning to me before muttering to himself, "and some excess baggage."

"Dad," Carl sighed in frustration.

"Sorry," he sighed apologetically in response, "I'm just on edge, that's all. We need to find this camp; we're running low on food and ammo. I don't think we're gonna last the next couple of weeks unless we find something good."

"That's not Riley's fault," Carl retorted.

"It doesn't matter," I reassured Carl, dismissing the argument I could sense was about to begin, "let's go check out the R.V."

The door opened with a loud creak as the two of us stepped cautiously inside to examine the vehicle's interior. Considering there was an apocalypse ensuing outside, it was surprisingly well maintained. Maybe the owners weren't long dead, or maybe it had just been lucky enough to avoid being stolen - until now, that is.

It was only a two-bedroom vehicle, but we'd make room.

Besides, we'd have been grateful for any sort of transport at this stage. Finding a vehicle as comfy and hospitable as this was a stroke of pure luck.

We stepped out of the way as Rick, Michonne and Carol entered the vehicle along with us.

"Who's driving?" Michonne asked jokingly, before declaring "I'm not - don't want to get blamed if we crash."

"I've never been the best driver," Carol confessed with a smirk, clearly recalling a funny memory from the past.

"Looks like it's me then, huh?" Rick sighed in defeat, pushing the other two driving candidates playfully aside before clambering into the driver's seat.

"Right, let's see if I remember how to do all this," he smirked, revving the engine a few times to get a feel for the vehicle's power, before slowly edging his foot down on the accelerator as we drove out onto the road.

A few turns later and we were on our way out of the village, and the forest that I had once lived in vanished beneath the horizon.

I must have spent a year in that forest. It feels weird to be leaving it all so suddenly.

"I don't think I'll be missing this place," Carol peered out of the back window, watching the village dissipate into the distance.

I was moving on now. We were moving on. But things would get worse before they got better.