𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [ 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 ] ✘

Saving Me

Walkers were everywhere. Their moans filled my ears and their rotting stench flew up my nostrils. My heart pounded in my chest as I ran, their shuffling feet loud on the pavement behind me. I didn't even know how I'd managed to get myself into this mess. I'd been scavenging and I suppose I'd gotten so preoccupied with finding food, I had failed to notice the gathering walkers at the front door of the abandoned house. Now I had to find somewhere to hide.

My sneakers skidded across the road as I turned the corner. Up ahead, more houses lined the road. But what caught my eye was a boy who sat on the roof of one of them. It was too far of a distance to see too much about him but I could just make out a Sheriff's hat perched atop his head. I ran faster, my feet hitting the pavement in loud thumps. The sound of walkers' teeth gnashing together seemed to get closer and closer.

Suddenly, the boy's head popped up and a can he'd been holding fell out of his hands. It landed on the grass with a clatter, brown goo splattering on the green. He fingered a gun at his side and fear shot through me. I began to wave my hands frantically.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" I shouted up at him.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and put a finger to his lips to shush me. I closed my mouth and ran the rest of the way to where he was. Glancing back up at the roof, I was surprised to find him gone and the window right behind where he'd stood wide open. I had been on my own so long. Had I hallucinated him? I swiveled my head back around to look at the herd of walkers.

They were closing in fast. Suddenly, something latched onto me. I almost let out a shriek but then I saw the boy standing beside me, his hand holding onto my wrist.

"Run!" he told me.

I didn't wait to be told twice. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. His hand slipped down my wrist to hold onto my hand as we sprinted past the houses, the walkers gaining on us. As strange as it may sound, I felt happy in that moment. Was I about to die? Probably.

But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't alone. And...there was something about this boy. Finally, we reached a house at the end of the street. We'd put some space between ourselves and the walkers but they were still coming. I could hear their moans in the distance. The boy climbed up the stairs to the house, pulling me along with him.

A stand of my blonde hair fell in my face as I stepped into the house. A man whom I assumed to be his father lay passed out on the couch, cuts all over his face. I didn't ask what had happened. It wasn't any of my business. The boy closed the door behind me quickly and then his eyes snapped to mine. For the first time, I got a good look at my savior.

His eyes were a piercing blue like my own and messy brown hair spilled out from underneath his Sheriff's hat. He looked to be about 14 and attractive to say the least.

"What's your name?" he asked me suddenly.

I licked my dry lips before answering him.

"Kayla," I replied, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

He nodded.

"I'm Carl," he said and then pointed to the man on the couch, "And that's my dad, Rick,"

"How many walkers have you killed?" he continued.

"Um...," I started, fidgeting nervously under his gaze, "I'm not sure. I've lost count..."

"How many people have you killed?"

I blinked back tears that began to form in my blue eyes.

"One,"

"Why?"

"It was my older sister and she asked me to," I told him, my voice quiet in the darkness.

He nodded again and he shot me a small smile that made a blush rise to my cheeks.

"Welcome to the group, Kayla. Want some pudding?"