CARL GRIMES
"The Sheriff In Training"
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The orange hue of the sunset passes beyond the trees as time flies, dark skies blanketing over the earth. Candlelight illuminates the church as the clinking of utensils against dishes and cans echoes in the wooden hall.
Thankfully, the supplies found during this afternoons run to the food bank had provided us with an excellent feast, most of us calling for celebration of escaping Terminus and for Maia reaching us.
I haven't stopped smiling since I've seen her.
After the majority of the prison was reduced to rubble, I had assumed she was dead. Once most of the Governors group was found dead, I rushed over to the cell block she had been trying to rescue, only to find a large pile of fallen concrete and large stains of blood.
So much of me was in disbelief when she had arrived and a lot of me remains in disbelief, even as I watch her pick pineapple from a metallic can under the soft glow of a gentle flame.
"You hurt your eyes, Grimes?" She says to me with her mouth slightly full of fruit. A smile spreads across her face as she realizes my staring at her.
"W-What?" I stutter and try to regain my thoughts. "No, sorry." My eyes wander to her head, which has my hat still placed upon it, although her hair beneath is significantly shorter. "It's just your hair; it's all gone." I slowly raise my hand and gently brush aside one of the strands from in front of her face.
It's barely enough for me to notice, but her smile falters for a moment at the mention of her hair.
"Really? I haven't noticed." She smiles again with a sarcastic tone. "What, does it look bad or something?" One of her hands raises up and tugs softly at the hair strands.
"N-No!" I respond defensively. "It looks good," I pause. "Really good."
I don't fail to notice the way her cheeks blush pink and her hand falters slightly around the can she's holding. It wasn't a lie either, her haircut suits her in a way I would never anticipate.
"I think that's the first compliment you've ever given me, well done." She laughs and I smile, flicking the brim of my hat on her head. "You should have it back," Slowly, her hand removes my Sheriffs Hat and places it onto my own head. "I don't want to get lice, and the deputy life doesn't suit me."
A soft smile spreads across my face as I readjust the hat.
We fall into a comforting conversation, similar to everyone around us. She discusses how she left the prison and where she wandered after that and I do the same. Eventually, the chatter is interrupted by Abrahams booming voice.
"I'd like to propose a toast," He announces to the group, a decorative glass filled with vermillion communion wine in his hands. "I look around this room and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title." Judith fusses quietly in the arms of my dad as he speaks. "To the survivors!" He raises his glass with a satisfied smile.
Various call-outs of cheering and hollering sound through the church as the adults raise their glasses of wine and Maia and myself simply take sips of water. People clap and smiles are spread widely across everyone's faces.
"Is that all you want to be?" The room quiets at this. His tone is harsher then it was mere seconds ago. "Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep every night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat?"
I stiffen slightly at these words and Maia shifts uncomfortably on the ground. While his words are harsh and unforgiving, he's speaking the entire truth we all have been thinking since this situation began.
"You can do that. You've got the strength, got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender. Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip." As he speaks Maia turns her head to face me with a confused stare.
I lean in closer to her and whisper. "Eugene believes he has a way to cure all this if they can get to D.C., it's a risk but it's hope." At these words she furrows her eyebrows.
"There's a lot of bullshit in this modern world," She whispers to me. "I'm really hoping that this isn't that." I smile lightly and we both turn back to the redhead at the front of the room.
"Eugene," He begins again. "What's in D.C.?"
The man in question visibly stiffens at the sudden spotlight being on himself. He clears his throat lightly before speaking. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude."
Maia turns a looks at me from the corner of her eye with a very confused stare, to which I just shrug.
"That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart." He finishes speaking very firmly.
I glance around at the ground, trying to gather their reactions. It is difficult for me to understand what they're thinking, especially my dad. He's never been one for risky decisions and these choice proposed to him certainly fall under that category.
"However this plays out," Abraham speaks again. "However long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer then you've been since this whole thing's started."
The concept of safety is something many of this group has lost along the way, and the idea of having back is certainly enticing.
"Come with us. Save the world for that little one." I look over to Judith with fondness. "Save it for you yourselves, save it for the people out there who don't got nothin' left to do except survive."
The church fall eerily quiet. Loved ones and family look to each other for a hint at what one another is thinking. Everyone remains in deep contemplation over the man's words for quite some time before my dad chuckles lightly.
With Judith in his lap, she coos and he looks to her. "What was that?" People laugh lightly. "I think she knows what I'm about to say. She's in." I smile softly. "If she's in, I'm in. We're in."
Everyone chuckles and claps, hoots and hollers at the commencement of the next journey, hopefully to somewhere far more safe then a petite church.
While there is nothing I want more than to reverse the changes made on this world, I've found a repeating pattern with this new day and age. We find shelter, somewhere we think can be permanent and can be a break from the hell that lives outside, but it's frequently been reversed. The walker board at the farm, the Governor at the prison, and every last person remaining at Terminus. Between the walkers and the people, it's hard to feel comfortable even in the most secure place.
I'm the midst of my thoughts, Maia turns to me with a slight smile.
"Listen," She begins. "I haven't felt safe for nearly the past month, and I don't know if I will ever feel totally safe again, but I trust your dads judgment more than most people in this world. It's a bigger group now, a more well-trained group, we can handle whatever is thrown our way." Her small speech is finished by her squeezing my hand lightly.
I gaze at her for a while, immersing myself in her presence for the hundredth time that night. "Since when do you read minds?" I question with a laugh.
"I've learned that you and I have a pretty similar brain, Carl Grimes." She responds and we both chuckle lightly. After a handful of seconds of gazing around the room silently, she speaks again. "Well, I'm going to get some shut-eye. I haven't slept in an actual semi-secure building since the prison."
Carefully, I watch as she climbs onto the elongated wooden bench her and I had been resting out backs on.
"Goodnight, Carl." She whispers and turns on her side of face me while I remain on my spot on the floor. "It's really good to see you again." With that, she shuts her eyes tightly and flips over so she's facing the back of the bench.
A soft smile doesn't leave my face as I look at the girl in front of me, the girl that became someone I would speak to frequently and those conversations we shared lit up my life.
"Goodnight," I say before turning my back to hers and facing the front of the church, still remaining seated on the ground. "I've really missed you." I whisper the last bit so it's only heard by my ears.
My eyes close softly and I let myself drift off to sleep under the warm glow of candlelight, surrounded by people I care about.
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"What did you do?" The sound of my dad shouting loudly jolts me awake against the bench my back is lain upon. Carefully, I pull the brown hat from it home of covering my face and I set it on the ground.
My eyes blink to adjust to the new lighting, but I find it to still be night and the candles are still burning brightly. I gaze around the room and I find Gabriel backed up against a wooden railing that faces the benches, my dad facing him closely with a murderous rage in his eyes.
"I lock the doors at night," Gabriel's voice trembles and quivers as he speaks. "I always lock the doors at night."
After hearing this I slowly begin to rise. Once I am standing fully, I hear shuffling beside me. I look over to Maia and find her waking up slowly, trying to asses the situation and her surroundings while still being partially asleep.
Gabriel speaks again with a broke voice. "They started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared; they were looking for a place where they felt safe."
Having just joined the conversation, my mind raced to try and understand the events that have transpired while I had been asleep.
"It was early, it was so early, and the doors were still locked. You see..." He pauses and breathes in shakily. "It was my choice. There were so many of them and they were trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sidings, screaming at me. And so, the dead came for them."
The sentences make me understand what the topic is. Earlier today, before Maia's arrival, I had found carvings on the outdoor walls of the church, reading out: "You'll burn for this."
I understand now that this must be what Gabriel will burn for.
"Women, children, entire families calling name as they were torn apart, begging me for mercy." Maia rises from her position and stands beside me. "Damning me to hell. I buried their bones, I buried it all." He breaks into sobs as my father continues staring daggers at him. "The Lord sent you here to punish me. I'm damned."
The priest collapses to the floor of the church, tears streaming down his face and his body shaking with sadness and fear.
"I was damned before. I always lock the doors, I always lock the doors." He cries freely, clutching one of the posts on the wooden fencing. I look over to my dad who is gazing down at the man in disgust before snapping his head up to me and Maia.
He quickly steps over to us and begins talking in a frantic manner. "Daryl and Carol are gone, Bob too. They went missing a little bit after dinner and we haven't seen them since." I look to Maia and she returns my panicked stare back.
Suddenly, whistling sounds from the outside of the church.
"There's something-" Glenn calls out, taking a pause. He breathes heavily and I can see from his mannerisms something has gone terribly wrong. "There's someone outside lying in the grass!" He shouts out to the group.
Sasha immediately jumps into action, charging straight for the front doors of the building. Maggie, Tara, Glenn, and Abraham follow her shortly after.
"Stay here, stay safe." My dad looks at the both of us before running to the doors, pushing them openly sharply.
Maia and I share looks with each other and we nearly speaking before hearing Judith fussing in the other room. We both run into one of the separate rooms, finding my baby sister just waking up, still lain calmly in the wooden crib found within the church.
Gunshots sound outside and Judith begins to crying a little louder. Maia quickly scoops her into her arms, working her hardest to calm the baby down, which works for most part.
"Get him inside!" Voices shout from the main part of the church. "Go!"
I quickly push the door open and step into the large section of the building. My feet cease to run and I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of Bob laying on the floor, one of his legs missing, a bloody stump taking its place.