ALL THE LOVELY BAD ONES | CARL GRIMES

the lost chapter.

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Bob and Sasha always played a game where one says something they hate and the other has to find something positive about it.

Their interwound hands swung in-between them.

He said something and she laughed, he pressed a kiss against her shoulder.

I wonder what it would be like: to be in love so shamelessly.

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We found a priest. We found a church.

I had not been in a church since Before. The place felt hollow, like all the noise that once filled it still echoed in its bones, tormenting me for the monster I've become, for the sins I've committed and not asked forgiveness for. My scuffed boots trail down the aisle, finger tips across the tops of dusty pews.

Rick gestured for me to sit with him and Carl on the moth-bitten velvet seating. The man then went on to tell us he doesn't trust this preacher, this Father Gabriel.

He told us we're not safe.

I know, Rick. I know.

But then Carl said, "Not everyone is bad." And I wasn't sure how he could say that after everything that had happened.

Then I remembered I had said the same thing to him for Terminus. When he was the doubter. I didn't understand how he had changed his mind so quickly. Maybe it was the joy of having his sister back. Maybe that was what made all the difference in him.

But at the end of the day, this church was no sanctuary.

We both promised to be careful.

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Almost half of us left for a supply run. I decided to sit with Tyreese near the pulpit, he bounced Judith on his knee. She had gotten so big since the last time I'd seen her at the prison, in Beth's arms. I wondered where Beth was. Who took her from Daryl.

And then the heavy oak double doors opened, a hatted figure silhouetted against the golden Georgia sun, sending dust moats spiraling before him. My eyes met Carl's and he gave his head a tilt, gesturing for me to follow.

I did.

He took me round the back of the church, wordlessly. Then lifting his finger to something scratched into the chipped white paint of the building.

YOU'LL BURN FOR THIS

"What do you think it means?" He asked after a moment.

"I don't think he's the kind of preacher he's supposed to be." I told him.

Carl shifted, tilting his head as if he might get a different answer from the wall if he looked at it from a different angle. "I've met a lot of bad men, El. I don't know. I just don't think he's one of them."

"Doesn't mean he hasn't done anything stupid. Doesn't mean he won't do anything stupid." I reached up and ran my finger over the engraving, the rough etch of wood carved by an angry hand. "If he messes with any of us, he'll end up dead."