I wake to the sound of screaming outside of the prison. I sit up fast and see Carl do the same. I grab my bag and stuff my picture, my necklace, and my white tank top into it. I sling my sword over my shoulder, into its case and put my pistol behind my back and hide it with my sweat shirt. We both run over to Carl's cell so he can grab his stuff. He comes back out a carrying a bookbag, a pistol, and a shot gun slung across his back. Whatever is out there I want to be prepared for anything. I cannot leave my stuff here, unguarded. We run out of the prison and out to the fences where we see everyone lined up with their guns raised.
On the other side of the fence I see thousands of zombies. Lined up, pressing against the fence. The fence is done. I see it in the way it sways, in the way the logs holding it up snap. Everyone has a machine gun except me and Carl. I pull out my pistol without saying anything. The first fence crumples and the other falls over easily. Rick shoots first and the rest follows. I don't understand how there is so many of them. Just yesterday there was only 20 at the most. We back up slowly as the zombies advance faster than we can kill them. I look around and that people are running out of ammo. I had to start using my sword long ago.
"Get the kids on a bus and get them out of here," Rick screams to Maggie and Glen. They run and start rounding up the kids. I don't know where Hershel is. "We'll meet up again. Somewhere!"
"Izzy we have to go," Carl grabs my hand and pull me toward Rick.
"There you are Carl! We have to get out of here," Rick says pulling me and him along.
"What about the others? We cant leave them!" he shouts.
"They'll be fine. But we have to go," he insists.
We run out of prison walls and along the field to the woods on the other sides. We have escaped he zombies, but we have no idea where or if the others are okay. We run for a couple miles until finally we cant run anymore. "What if we cant find them again?" Carl asks.
"And if we don't. Then its your fault," Carl walks a few feet away. I follow him and sit down beside his feet. He sits down beside me, and doesn't say a word. I look over at him and I know he's anxious and scared, but I see more. I see loss. He just lost his home, and maybe even his group. I look down at the sand like dirt and start to draw shapes and pictures. A heart, a star, a sun, and lastly a zombie. It looks like and old man hunched over with rooting flesh. I shake my head and smear the image so you cant see it. I look over and see Carl smiling at me. "Let me guess. You failed art?"
"Actually I aced art," I remark.
"Really? You must have been a teachers pet."
"Hey!" I shove him slightly and he laughs. "I was not a teachers pet! I hated school and most of my teachers."
"That makes two of us," he agrees.
"Are you okay?" I ask. Suddenly serious.
"If that's what you want to call it," he sighs. "I keep telling myself that everything will be fine, but nothing seems to be fine. Something always goes wrong and screws everything up."
"I know what you mean. When I lost my family... it seemed like everything just went wrong that day. Everything was fine that morning. My mom was making us a small breakfast and my dad and my brother was outside throwing a football. Everything felt normal. Then me and my mom hear screams. We run outside to see my father being bit my a zombie and my brother up in a tree. My mom ran to help him, but we were being swarmed. One got her and soon my brother was surrounded. I couldn't get to him. One of the zombies grabbed his leg and he fell. They got and I couldn't do anything, but watch. In 5 minutes my whole family died. Nothing went right that day," I say and a tear slides down my cheek.
"Wow... that's uhh..." he's unable to finish.
"Awful, sad, unbearable, terrible. Yeah I know. I try not to think of it to often. Better to forget," I stand up and brush myself up. Carl stands up too and hugs me. I'm shocked at first, but after a minute I don't care. I rest my chin on his shoulder as tears stream down my face. He doesn't say anything. We stand their for a minute, but then I remember Rick is a few feet away and suddenly I feel awkward. I pull away and see Carl was crying too. I used think that boy's didn't cry. That it was weird if boys cry, but this is different. Carl has a reason to cry. Multiple reasons actually. I look over and see that Rick is looking in the opposite direction. That makes me feel better. After a moment he looks at us. "Do you want to stay the night here? We can find some cans an things that make noise to hang up around us so we'll know if a walker is close."
Carl shakes his head up and down and I do the same. "Then find some cans and things," Rick instructs. All three of us split up and explore the nearby woods. I find and empty Gatorade bottle, a tin can, a pepsi can, and a McDonalds cup. I take my findings back out to the trail and see a pile already forming. Mostly pop cans and fast food cups. I set mine in the pile and go search for some more. I search a little deeper than I did before. I walk passing trees and small shrubs. I almost trip a couple times over roots sticking out of the ground and I cut my face on little twigs coming off of the trees. Finally I see something shiny. I jog to it. I see a silver metal thing half buried by dirt. I quickly dig it out and examine it. Its a gun. A pistol to be exact. This pistol has a big black silencer. It almost doesn't fit in my hand! I take the clip out and fing20 bullets exactly. This gun holds a lot of ammo. I stand up and head back to the trail. A straight walk back. When I reach the trail I don't see Carl or Rick. I sit down and wait for one of them to return.
A few minutes later I see Rick make his way out of the dense trees. He hold more trash. His eyes widen at the sight of the gun. "I found it out there. Can I keep it?" I ask nervously.
"Well why wouldn't you? You found it," he shrugs. "So its yours. Where exactly did you find it?"
"It was half buried in the ground a couple minutes from here," I explain. He nods.
"Okay. You might wanna put it in your bag so you don't lose it."
I am about to put it back in my bag when I see Carl. "Look," I show him the gun. He smirks and pulls out an almost identical gun. Silencer and all. I raise my eyebrows," Where did you get that?"
"My dad gave it to me. I don't know where he got it. Where did you get yours?"
"I found it out in the woods. It was sorta buried in the ground. But now we can be twinzies," I joke.
"I never understood girl language," he shakes his head.
"I never understood guy language. What up dude, how ya doin bro," I say in my best guy voice. He laughs and gives me a weird look.
"I never talked like that."
"Cause your not a gangsta," I crack up laughing and he laughs too, but no as hard.
"And most guys don't talk in that deep of a voice," he comments.
"My guy would."
"Oookayyy," he says awkwardly. I smile big.
"Shall we put up this... noisy... fence thingymabobber?"
We all three put up a small fence making a cubed space for us to sleep, using some barb wire that Rick managed to find. We use razor blades to cut wholes into the trash and push the barb wire through the wholes. We wrap it around 4 trees and tie it. By now the sun is setting. I lay my pistol beside me and use my bag as a pillow. The constantly decreasing of the temperature causes me to shiver. I lay in the middle of the square. Carl is to my right and Rich lays at my feet. The ground is hard and I feel scared to go to sleep. I wish we were back at the prison. I wish I was in my small and comfy room on my nice warm bed, staring at the picture of my parents. I wish, but I know I will never see that wonderful prison again. Yes, a wonderful prison. I never though I would say that. Carl rolls over so he looking at me. His head rests on his bag and his hat is laying beside him. I smile before I shut my eyes. I lay there thinking for a moment. What if the fence thing doesn't work and we all get bit? I don't know. I guess I'll just have to take that risk. I feel myself start to drift to sleep. That is all I remember before I am completely asleep.