038: a cruel truth or comfortable delusion
"Keep an eye out for patrols—there were a few trying to smoke me out around here." Carl warned, keeping his voice down and close to Joey. They were meddling through the half-bombed and muddy courtyard of the apartment building they rendezvoused at, and it was oddly silent to the point where Joey was growing slightly suspicious.
"How many?" Joey asked, grunted slightly and pushed herself over the wall that surrounded the pool. It looked as though part of it had been destroyed when the military was attempting to bomb all the cities. Joey suddenly remembered when they were planning on bombing Los Angeles and how Bill got them out in time. How Joey had to watch his daughter Ellie die and him mourn over her body for weeks. Joey remembered how much Bill hated her within those weeks—resented her.
"I saw two...but I'm sure there's more." Carl groaned, following after her. Joey looked around to make sure there weren't any more patrols. It was too quiet for her liking. "Once they find out we're out of the school, and killed their fuckin' friends..." she trailed off, looking up at the buildings surrounding them. "They'll be out in force looking for us." Carl finished her sentence, and she nodded. "Yup."
Carl kept walking while Joey stayed stagnant in her spot. "Hey." she called out, and he turned around to face her, still looking pale and slightly shocked from before. Joey noticed how he seemed off after killing those people while she felt indifferent. "Yeah?"
She licked her lips. "Those weren't like...the first people you killed, right?" His face dimmed a bit and he avoided eye contact with her and shook his head slowly. "Uh—not really. But it doesn't get any easier." He said it as a fact, but Joey wasn't sure if she agreed. It didn't get easier, sure. But Joey for some reason felt the urge to kill more—she wanted to kill more. She remembered Bill telling her that a lot of soldiers that go off to war sometimes want to kill after doing it for the first time. She wasn't sure if that was true or if it was the way Bill felt, and he was just trying to come up with some excuse. Either way, Joey couldn't help but feel the same way.
Most of the roads were blocked off by shrubbery or abandoned, crashed cars, and there weren't many ways around other than climbing through half closed off buildings. Joey and Carl had to push a dumpster up against a building wall in order to climb up into it to avoid walking down the main street where they would be easily seen.
Joey told Carl in a gruff voice to look around for anything they could scavenge. She ruffled through some drawers and retracted her hands swiftly when she saw a packet of sunflower seeds resting underneath a few other gardening tools. Her heart started beating rapidly and she had to hold a hand to her heart to steady her breathing. Joey wasn't sure why she associated sunflowers with Bill, but she did. She lost the guitar pick he had given her when he found it on a run. It had a sunflower on the back. Tears started to spring in her eyes and she ran her hands over her face. "Toughen up. Fuck. Stop fucking crying." She whispered to herself, lightly hitting herself in the face.
She breathed shakily in and out and writhed her hands in and out of a fist. "Jo...you OK?" Carl placed a hand on her shoulder and Joey shrugged it away. "Yeah—yeah I'm fine." She closed the drawer. "Let's get moving."
They moved out of the room they were in and heard items falling over across the hall. Both of them crouched down at the noise and hid behind the kitchen island. There was distant moaning. "Walkers." Carl whispered, and Joey held a finger up to her lips. They were hardly moving across the hallway, as Joey didn't hear their delayed footsteps and could see them through the open door. They were staggering in place, and Joey waved Carl to follow her. There were only a few that they could take. At this point, rotters were the least of their worries. They also had to worry about the Saviors that were on their trail.
They took down the rotters that were in the one area before opening the window to go out the other side of the building. There were a few more that swarmed to them when they hit the ground, Joey wincing at the impact on her ankles. She had to push two of the rotters away from her before Carl could come out the window after her. He lunged forward to take down the one rotter that was sneaking up behind Joey, pushing it to the ground and driving his knife through its skull. "Shit." she cursed, hardly having time to catch her breath before she had to stab another one. Her shoulder ached and she groaned loudly.
"Joey, are you bit?"
She didn't answer, and tried to move her arm around. "Fuck, Joey, are you bit?" he exclaimed again, running up behind her. Joey cursed and shook her head. "No, I'm not fucking bit, Jesus."
Carl placed his hand on her arm, and moved his other hand to her face to get her to look at him. Joey tried not to make eye contact with him because she thought she might cry from the pain. "Maybe we should take a break...find somewhere to rest." He offered, and Joey scoffed. "We don't have time for rest." she pushed his hands away and Carl could feel himself growing more and more aggravated. Joey started to walk away.
"Will you stop?" He called out, but Joey just shook her head and kept walking. "Joey, look at me when I'm talking to you." He reached forward to grab her arm again. Joey ripped her arm out of his grip. "Will you stop being so loud? You're gonna attract every single fucking rotter and Savior in this damn town."
"I don't care, Joey. You're hurt...you need to rest, we've been at it all day."
"Jesus, Carl, shut the f—"
"Get down." He put his hand on her back and pushed her further down so they both were crouched. "Shit." she cursed, turning to see a triad of Saviors emerging from between two damaged buildings. They were talking to each other and spread out over the space, guns slung over their shoulders, ready to shoot when needed. Joey felt her heart racing in her ears. They crouched behind an old military tank and Joey tried to look at them and where they were going. One Savior walked into an empty building, while the other two stayed together.
Joey waved for Carl to follow her while they waded through the overgrown greens coming through the cracks in the road. At one point, as to not be seen, they army crawled through the grass until they got into the building where the one Savior had wandered off. He was smoking a cigarette while his AK laid over his chest.
Joey waited for him to turn his back before she crept up behind him, with her arm tightly around his throat. He was short enough that she didn't need to go on her tip-toes, and she took her knife from her pants and drove it into his throat. She carefully placed him on the ground so he wouldn't make noise and covered his mouth to block out him choking on his blood. She didn't stab him in the head, so Carl went to do it, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"No. Let 'em turn." She whispered, and Carl looked at her with disbelief and a little bit of horror. He let her creep away before stabbing the man in the head because he felt guilty. They both crouched down and crept out of the building, hiding behind another tank. "Rifle in the building." Carl whispered to her, while two of the men started to get closer to them. Joey saw more start to join them—approximately three more. She saw the rifle sitting on the windowsill of the building, two stories up.
"Flake these two assholes." She whispered, but Carl was hesitant. In fact, he hardly did anything to help. Joey was able to sneak up behind another one, slitting his throat and to prevent his body from thudding to the cement. When she tried to creep up on the other woman, she turned around, and Joey clammed up. The woman went to scream, but Joey sprung up and clapped her hand over her mouth, and pushed her to the ground, dropping her knife in the process. She tried to wrap her hands around her throat, but the woman pushed her away, and Joey punched her in the face as she tried to scream. Joey kept punching her and punching her until the woman was limp. Joey was shocked by the scene in front of her, and when she turned around, Carl was running up behind her with fear etched across his face.
"Holy shit." He breathed, lowering his gun. He didn't know who Joey was anymore. It sounded childish in his head, but he meant it. He stared at her and saw nothing.
Joey's hands were shaking violently and bleeding profusely. She tried to clench and unclench her fists, but it hurt too bad, and she could hardly pick up her knife. "C'mon, we have to get inside the building." He muttered, placing his hand on her back again to guide her inside. Joey attempted to wipe off her hands but they hurt too bad and there was too much blood. There was a dead man lying on the ground, who Joey assumed to be the sniper. Who had killed them? Was it Finn? Why didn't he take the gun?
"What do we do now?" Carl asked frantically, and Joey looked down at her hands again. When she stared at the blood, all she saw was Bill's brutalized face. The way he moved his finger slightly when she begged for his life, as if it was a final wave goodbye.
"I—I can't..." she kept staring at her trembling hand, and Carl peeked out the window.
"Shit...Joey, they're closing in." He nudged her shoulder gently, but all she could do was shake her head. Carl looked between her and the rifle, before picking it up and aiming out the window. He tried to steady his hands and breaths, aiming at one of the Saviors that was getting closer to the building. He followed his head carefully, breathing in and out, before pulling the trigger. The bullet whirred past the man's head, and Carl cursed to himself. "Shit...shit."
The man pointed to the window, yelling out something to the others, but all Carl could hear was the sound of his breath and the ringing in his ears. "Fuck, fuck..." he whispered, while Joey tried to stop herself from panicking, but her vision was already turning black, and she couldn't see anything but Bill, dead, on the ground, and Negan's bat crushing his skull again and again. This was all her fault.
Carl zeroed in on the man again as he tried to run toward the building, able to shoot and hit him in the head. The one woman behind him cried out in horror, aiming her gun towards Carl, and shooting erratically. He ducked, aiming at her, and taking her out by the throat and chest. He reloaded the gun clumsily, trying to aim for the other guy as he came running, and shot him twice in the chest before he finally went down. Carl fell back, the rifle clattering to the ground, and tried to steady his breathing.
"Fucking hell." He sighed, palming the ground beneath him, before turning to look at Joey. "Hey...hey, you OK?" He crawled toward her, prying her hands apart. Carl ogled at the bruises forming on her hand and wiped away the tears on her face. "Joey...Jo, we gotta move. They would've heard those gunshots." She slowly started to regain her vision, but his voice sounded like they were underwater.
"Joey, can you get up?" He asked, hands gingerly placed on her arms, helping her up. She cradled her hands and groaned while getting up. He kept his arms around her while they made their way out of the building, and for once, Joey didn't push him away. She liked having him close, because it kept her grounded, and kept her semi-calm.
"That round building...that looks like the TV station from your map." Carl pointed ahead with his one hand, and Joey nodded her head. "Yeah." Carl looked her up and down. "Let's bandage up your hand first." He gently grabbed it, and pulled her over to sit down on the hood of an abandoned car. Carl placed his backpack on his lap and unzipped it to pull out the antiseptic and bandages they found in a pharmacy on their way to Arlington.
Carl poured some of the antiseptic on one of his old t-shirts and pressed it gingerly on her knuckles. Joey winced and subconsciously tried to pull her hand away. "Ow." she muttered, and he only glanced at her before tugging her hand back and kept cleaning it. They sat in silence while he wrapped it, and Joey studied his face closely. She leaned in and pressed a kiss against the bruise on his cheekbone.
"Thank you." she whispered, pulling her hand away when he was done. "Of course." he lamented, placing a hand on her knee. They both got up and started moving against the walls to avoid being seen by anyone or anything that might be lingering. A rotter emerged from around the corner of a building, and walked toward them, before tripping over something, triggering a trap to go off and blow it into bits. Pieces of its body splattered onto their clothes.
"Fuck." Joey groaned, still cradling her hands. "Watch out for traps." she said, while stepping over the mutilated body and the tripwire that was strung between two street poles. They started jogging through the streets and haphazardly jumped over the other traps throughout the city.
"What if she's gone by the time we get there?" Carl asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Joey shook her head. "I don't really want to think about that."
"What're we gonna do once we get her?" he asked again, and Joey hadn't really thought about it. Obviously Negan was not where Finn said he was—or he'd be dead already.
"Figure out what she knows. Where Negan is."
"You sure she was there?"
Joey nodded, trying to recall the night. "Yeah, she was there. Fucking screamed when I cut up that JJ kid's face." They kept walking until they came across a brutalized horse. Its insides were taken out, presumably by rotters, but Joey recognized the pack that was strapped to the side of the horse. "Look...it's Finn's." She traced her hands over the zippers and holes on the bag. She scrunched up her face at the smell of the dead horse and the flies swarming it. When she peeked inside, there was nothing left. Joey stuffed her hand inside and felt around for anything, pulling out the guitar pick with the sunflower on it. Bill gave that to her. Joey tossed it around between her fingers, closing her fist around it and letting out a shaky breath.
"Walkers did a number on this one." Carl came up behind her, eyeing the horse and looking at her. "You good?"
Joey blinked out of her daze, stuffing the pick in her coat pocket. "Uh—yeah I'm fine." She looked at the horse, and then around at the city. "He must've taken off on foot." she noted, and Carl held his leg. Joey furrowed her brows and looked him up and down. "You good?"
"Yeah just...pulled something I think."
Joey stepped a bit closer to him. "You OK to keep going?" He waved his hands as if to dismiss her. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine." He carefully jumped over the rocks obstructing their path, landing wobbly. Joey studied him carefully before following him to walk along the trail of abandoned, crashed cars. Further up the street, there was a trail of littered, shot bodies.
"More shot bodies." Carl mentioned, and Joey jogged past them. "Finn definitely came this way."
They kept walking, and Carl put his arm out in front of her when they got closer to the TV station. "Is that another tripwire?" he whispered, and she ogled at it. She couldn't tell, so she picked up a rock from beside them. "Guess we'll find out." she muttered, tossing the rock over to the trap. It exploded, and they both shielded their faces from the debris that flew at their faces. "Guess you were right."
There was a news van that was parked right in front of one of the old military fences. The stairs were all wired up, and they took turns throwing rocks to set them up. "Maybe Julia will come to us." Joey jokes, starting to get worried from all the loud noises.
"Maybe they're waiting to ambush us." Carl groaned as they moved up the steps. Joey was starting to get worried about his leg, but she knew him. He never admitted to being hurt—he was like her in that way. He didn't want to hold them back.
They climbed over the few fences and stairs to get to the other side, jogging up until they reached the TV station. "There it is...stay low."
"Looks empty."
Joey searched around for any sign of an entrance. "I don't buy it. You see a way in?"
"Not yet."
They jogged around for a while until Joey was able to find a way for them to climb up to the second landing of the building. There were more dead bodies spread out, slumped over and bloodied. Some had been shot in the head while others were left to turn. "Did Finn do this?" Joey crouched down, picking up the rifle that was discarded next to the body. "Fucking brutal." She whispered, slinging the gun over her shoulder after checking the magazine.
"Let's get inside." Carl cautiously looked around before waving Joey along. He nodded to a smashed open window. "There." They ran over and Carl pressed himself up against the wall, hand cupped, to hoist her up. Joey held onto his shoulders and stepped into his hand, grabbing the window and pulled herself up. Joey then reached her hand out of the window to help pull Carl up, and he fell through the window after her. "Shit." he cursed, stumbling a bit on his feet before Joey helped him up.
"Are you sure your leg is OK?"
Carl hunched over to catch his breath. "I'm fine—Jus' need a minute..." he breathed, standing up straight and wiping away the sweat on his forehead. They were in what looked like a break room—Channel 5 displayed on the wall behind a row of tables. They walked through the room, picking up what they could, and Joey saw a dead body in the hallway. "Shit...be careful." She whispered, looking around to see if there was any sign of Finn. Nothing. She looked down over the overhang to the levels below them, and it was oddly quiet.
They followed the hallway until they ended up in a large lobby, where bodies were hung from the high ceiling and some bodies were littered on the ground with arrows sticking out of their chests. "This wasn't Finn. He wouldn't do this." She stared in awe at the other bodies, the fresh blood, the smears on the wall.
"Who the fuck did this then?" Carl breathed, exasperated, picking off some ammo from the dead Saviors.
"Someone else who they pissed off."
"This just happened...you think they're still here?"
Joey shrugged, swallowing thickly. "Let's not stick around long enough to find out."
They wandered around the station a while longer, nearly going into every room as they made their way to the top. Joey could tell Carl was getting tired, as he started to not put pressure on his left leg. They had gone through nearly every room when he leaned against a wall. "Should we just leave? I don't think anyone's here...Julia's dead if anything, I mean look at all these b—"
"We have to check every room." she interrupted him, wiggling between a door and whatever barricade had been placed on the other side. When they reached the room, Julia's dead body was sprawled out on the ground. Three arrows were placed in her chest, and blood pooled underneath and throughout the room.
"That's her." Joey breathed out, slightly disappointed, and partly scared.
"You sure?"
"Yes." She stared at the dead body. Julia's face was contorted in fear, like she hardly had time to react before she was killed. "Guess the universe really wanted her dead, huh?" Carl crouched down and began to search the body for anything useful. There was static, and what sounded like a radio signal, coming from the other side of the room, but Joey ignored it and clutched the duffel bag that was stuffed beneath a cot. When she unzipped it, she found a collection of polaroids. They were all photographs that they had taken of the dead bodies. Abraham, Bill, Glenn. Joey hadn't even remembered them taking pictures. They were accompanied by others, bodies she had never seen before.
She shoved them back in the bag and picked up more polaroids. They were pictures of what looked to be the main station—where Negan was. She saw them smiling, eating food, playing with dogs and children. Taking pictures of each other like they weren't murdering innocent people.
"Carl." She breathed, as he toyed with the radio that was going off. "This is all of them." she walked over, shuffling through them. There was one of a line of men, holding guns, with Negan in the middle, holding his bat. Joey's hands started to shake. "That's him." she breathed, eyes narrowing. "Look at their fucking smiles."
Carl carefully reached over and took the pictures from her hands. "Three down, right?" he muttered, delicately touching her hand. Joey winced a bit and pulled away. "Three down."
The radio beside them crackled to life again. "Six, this is Two, do you copy? Support unit India en route to the TV station. Repeat, support unit en route. Over."
"Shit." Carl cursed, and Joey swallowed. "Yeah. We should get going." They moved out of the room, Joey adjusting the rifle that was on her shoulder. Even though Julia was dead, Joey didn't feel any more satisfied. In fact, she felt almost defeated. This was the second time they had been dead before she got to them, and it made her feel useless. Almost like Finn was taking something away from her.
"Well..she's dead now. How do you feel?" Carl asked, keeping a hand on her back to guide them out of the room, like he was trying to keep her safe somehow. Joey didn't mind it. "I'm pissed we didn't get to talk to her."
"Yeah." He breathed, as they jumped down from the window they had climbed through. "She didn't kill Bill, though. It would've been pretty fucked up to make her talk."
"She watched Negan kill him. She helped track us down. I don't give a fuck if she was the one holding the bat or not." They were able to get down to the ground level before shots were fired at them. "Shit, run!" Joey called out, grabbing Carl by the arm as more shots were fired at them.
"Don't let them get away!" one man called out, as they started to run after them. Joey and Carl ducked behind a car, and Joey peeked over and nearly got shot at, crouching down as the bullet whirred over her head. "Shit." She cursed, looking around to see any exit. There was what looked to be a basement to their right, which had been caved in from the bombings of the city. "Over there." she nodded her head, and Carl followed her eye line.
"On three." she breathed out, looking over her shoulder again, before crouching when they shot at her. "One...two...three." She counted, before they bolted for the door, nearly squeezing inside, slamming the door shut. "Help me with this." Carl groaned, limping over to a vending machine that was on the wall next to the door. Joey helped him push it down in front of the door, serving as a barricade. They heard the Saviors run up to the door, banging on it.
"Find a way inside!" a woman yelled from the other side, and Joey and Carl backed up. "Fuck." she cursed, and Carl grabbed her arm to keep them moving. They could hear commotion from outside, other Saviors ordering each other to clear the place out. It looked as though it was a subway station. Joey had thought it was a basement.
"We gotta find a way out before they do." She instructed, moving between the small spaces that had been caved in by the bombings. It was dusty, very dusty, and they coughed as they moved through the tubes and claustrophobic spaces.
"I thought they had us." Carl breathed, still limping on his left leg. Joey tried to ignore it like he was. They pushed through the rusting, revolving metal gates and Joey groaned when she came out the other side. They heard rotters coming from the spaces next to them, but it was hard to see, until they came across an opening with a flare, the Saviors from before surrounding it.
"Sweep the area." They instructed, while Joey and Carl tried to get around them in the dark.
"We just leave them for the infected to eat." one suggested, and Joey waved for Carl to follow her. She could hear the rotters in the next room over—it must be a horde. Joey knew that a lot of cities pushed the infected underground in order to keep them off the streets—Bill had told her that was what a lot of the FEMA camps did. She didn't even want to know how many were down there with them.
The rotters continuously pounded on the door until they managed to knock them down, swarming the Saviors. "Shit, cut them down!" the one man yelled out. Joey and Carl took this as their chance to make a beeline for the exit, but they got caught up in rotters themselves, Joey taking the butt of her gun and hitting them in the head. Carl kicked some of them to their knees and crushed their skulls with his foot. They were able to move into a room and close the door behind them.
"Grab what you can and let's move." Joey was out of breath, and Carl clutched his leg, but tried to hide it. They gathered what was left in the room and moved to the next, but when Joey tried to open the door, it was nearly lodged shut. A pair of rotters had burst through the door, followed by a few others that immediately started sauntering towards them. Joey cursed to herself as Carl tried to help, and then they finally pushed it open, squeezing to the other side. One of the rotters got a grip on Joey's pant leg, and they slammed the door on its hand, cutting it clean off. It fell to the ground with a thud. "Ew." she winced, wiping off the blood the best she could.
"Jo...I'm really tired." Carl complained, limping along behind her. "Yeah...let's get outta here."
They kept walking and followed the exit signs. It seemed like the subway was a never ending labyrinth. "You're not bit, are you?" Joey asked, keeping her gun in her hand. Carl shook his head even though Joey couldn't see him.
"No, no...just fucking exhausted." he said, out of breath trying to keep up with her. "Can we just walk a little bit, though?" he asked, but Joey shook her head. "We're almost there, just keep pushing."
They reared another track, with a train car that had crashed into one of the platforms. "Shit. This must've happened in the beginning." she breathed. The only way through was going into the train, which looked to be unsteadily hanging over another demolished area further into the subway. "We gotta go through here." she turned on her flashlight, pushing open the car door and carefully walking in. "Be careful." Carl called out, and just as he said so, the ground beneath her caved in and she was sent tumbling to the floor beneath.
Landing on her back, Joey arched in pain, groaning at the impact. "Fuck! Joey, I'm coming!" Carl yelled out from above, unsteadily climbing down the car and jumping to her aid. He fell when landing on his feet, scrambling over to help her up. "Are you OK?" he exclaimed, touching her all over to make sure no bones were broken. "Shit, Jo, you're bleeding." He reached up to touch her head, which was gushing blood. Joey saw double for a minute before zeroing in on his face.
"I'm OK, I'm OK." she breathed, prying his hands from her head when they heard a hoard of groaning and the shuffling of footsteps. "Shit, can you run?" she asked Carl, looking down at his leg. "Fuck, yes, yes." He answered frantically, and they grabbed each other's hands and ran towards the escalators. A rotter came up behind Carl when he reached the escalators, and Joey pushed it away, nearly failing before she stabbed it in the head with her other smaller knife. "Run, Carl!" she called out, the other rotters rearing her. Joey ran up behind him and followed him up the stairs, more rotters swarming them on the second level.
"Joey?" he called out, and she kept pushing him forward. "I'm right here, don't slow down!" she yelled out, stabbing another rotter in the head. One grabbed her by the foot and she fell down, crawling on top of her and clamping its jaws. Carl shot it twice in the head, grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her up.
"This way, hurry!" Carl yelled out, turning right. They ran until they reached a tall gate, and quickly jumped over it. They both fell when on the other side the rotters pushed down the gate with little to no effort. They kept running until there was another set of metal revolving gates, and when they got to the other end, a rotter had reached through and grabbed Joey by the neck. She fought against it, crying out in pain as it tugged on her hair. Carl shot its hand and it released her, and Joey held her throat where it had its grip on her. Joey stared in shock at the horde on the other side, turning around to see Carl struggling to get up from the ground.
"Carl!" she yelled, moving quickly to his side to try and get him up. The exit was right there, and Joey swooped down to sling his arm over her shoulders. "Try and get up." she instructed, and he struggled, to the point where Joey had to basically haul his weight by herself. She groaned out in pain, looking out to the gloomy weather outside, where rain had consumed the city.
"Why don't we hold up in that theater?" she asked him as they trudged across the street. Carl breathed in the fresh air.
"That sounds so fucking good." he gasped, groaning at the pain in his leg. The closer they got, the more Carl was feeling like deadweight. "I got you." Joey whispered breathlessly, grunting as she tried to distribute his weight across her shoulders. "Here, hold onto the door." She breathed, taking his arm off her shoulders as he leaned against the door.
Joey went up to one of the others and pushed her way inside. It took a few heavy shoves before the chairs barricading the inside fell over, finally letting them inside. She peeked inside at the dark, desolate theater. "We're good. C'mon." She helped him inside, closing the door behind him and placing one of the chairs in the handles to keep it closed. Carl limped over to the coach and sat down, groaning as he touched his leg.
"You wanna tell me what's going on with you?" Joey breathed, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. Carl looked up at her in disbelief. "What's going on with me? Fuck, Joey."
"Alright, am I stupid or are you acting...fucking hurt, or something, I don't know. Were you bit?"
Carl hung his head low, not answering. Joey felt her heart falter. "Tell me you're not sick." her voice was whispery, like she didn't want him to answer. "I'm not fucking sick, Joey, I just...I think my legs broken."
Joey stared at him and sighed heavily, pinching her nose. "Fuck, Carl. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I just—"
"How long has it been broken?"
Carl shrugged, wiping away a pained tear that left his eye. "I don't know...a few days, I guess, maybe..."
"A few days? Are you fucking kidding me, we could've turned back!"
Carl shook his head, swallowing. "No, I just...I'll be fine, I just need to rest for a second. I didn't want to be a burden—"
"Well you're a fucking burden now, aren't you?" Joey exclaimed, throwing her hands up. She regretted it the minute it came out of her mouth, but the anger and adrenaline covered it up. Carl stared at her in shock, and she breathed out of her mouth.
"You...just...rest. I'll make sure the place is secure." Joey didn't think Carl was a burden. She didn't think she could ever see him as a burden. But her words were fuel and her mind was fire and all she could see was another set back.
authors note: bro this chapter took so long to write. I lit a candle like five hours ago to sit down and write this and JUST finished it. help me.
is joey being dramatic asf? yes. will these chapters maybe be less boring u ask? hopefully
ps: only like two more acts until the end.... help me.