Save You (Gay Carl Grimes Story) SLOW UPDATES!

"...38."

Daryl came to a stop as several walkers blocked his path. Not even on a bike could he weave through these things. He got off, and drew his crossbow from his back. He let a bolt fly, and it sunk into the head of a walker. He was starting to become careless. The thought of being back at th prison with everybody else was the only thing on his mind, and it distracted his senses when he thought of sleeping in a bed. Daryl continued this process, not noticing the one that had started to come up behind him.

It drew closer and closer, not seeming to alert Daryl at all. Then the noise reached his ears and he turned around, just in time to see an arrow fly through the head of the walker. He watched it collapse to the floor, and behind him stood a young boy.

The boys hair was a light brown hair that bordered on blond, and his eyes were an easter egg blue. His figure was lanky but muscular. He only came up to chin height on Daryl.

"You should try to be a little more careful huh?" The bow said, pulling the arrow out and nocking it into place. Daryl nodded stepping to the side as the arrow flew and sunk into another walkers head.
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Rick stared at the boy, who in turn stared back. Everyone else was staring at him; Michonne, Maggie, Carol, Hershel, Glenn, Sasha, and Tyreese. But the boy only stared at Rick, his eyes never wavering.

"What's your name?" Rick asked.

"Tristan Powell." The boy replied, shifting his weight.

"Well Daryl here says that you killed almost 15 walkers today, just by yourself." The man said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Actually today I've killed my minimum requirement of 35." Tristan said, rocking on his heels. Everyone leaned forward on this.

"That sounds like a bit of an exaggeration." Michonne said.

"I never ever, for as long as I have lived, ever exaggerated something." Tristan said with a slight smirk. They all looked at him, his humor obviously not being frustrated. "Would it help if I say I got skills?"

They nodded.

"So Daryl said that you had questions to ask me if I wanted to stay." The boy said tucking his hands into his back pockets, staring at the sheriff.

Rick was silent for a few seconds. The two stared at each other, there composure almost complete opposites.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked.

"A lot." Tristan answered. He would seem almost proud, except that his face was not the sort of smirk one should have.

"How many people have you killed?" Rick asked leaning in.

All light left the boys eyes as he stared back, his blue eyes darkening. He finally broke eye contact, looking down at the floor.

"...38." He responded after a few moments of silence.

"Why?" Rick asked, getting closer again. Everyone had leaned in at this point. Nobody here had killed that many people.

The boy was once again silent. His silence seemed to drag out longer.

"In this world sheriff," he finally began. "Humans are a lot more dangerous than those things. Especially for a kid all by himself."

Rick nodded. Before turning and starting to walk off.

"Did I pass?" The boy asked, looking after the sheriff, not being able to hide the hint of worry in his voice.

"Check his weapons, then have Carl show him around." Rick said as he trudged off, leaving the whole crew with that cocky boy.

30 minutes later, Carl walked alongside Tristan.

"So how old are you?" Carl asked glancing back at him as they moved closer to the gate.

"I'm 15. Going to be 16." Tristan said smiling. "It's sort of nice knowing that I won't have to eat birthday fruit by myself."

"How do you know when your birthday is?" Carl asked curiously.

"I keep track." Tristan said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "Duh."

They came to a stop and stared at the walkers on the other side of the fence.

"You guys should be taking out a lot more than that every day." Tristan said, staring at the retreating figures.

"Well, we've survived this long." Carl said, almost in a patronizing tone.

"That's good." Tristan said with a chuckle, before moving away from the blue-eyed boy and towards the little girl who was naming the creatures. He pointed at one, his lips forming the name Ronald.

The girls nodded enthusiastically as a smile spread across his face.