The Dead Walking 3

So many things happen in a lifetime. Some are good and some are bad. All of these things make up a person. All of these things determine who you are. I have to say that my memories are mostly bad, but the few good ones are the things that keep me going. (this is the third book in the Dead Walking series)


16. Something is Wrong

         It doesn't take long for the blazing sun to dry me. It is my jeans that take the longest. I hadn't had time to remove my shoes either so now every step I take it makes a squishy and sloshy sound. I am thankful for the water though because it keeps  me cool. Without it I would be sweating really bad. We are close to WAL-MART now. No more than an hour or so. I have to admit I'm a little scared to return. They will be mad at Carl and me for leaving. More mad at Carl and I don't want him to get in trouble. I doubt he will care, but as much as I don't feel apart of them, he is part of that group. I will always be an outsider. That doesn't really bother me, but still they need him and as much as he doesn't want to admit it he needs them too.

         I'm not sure what we will do when we get there. There's not much TO do. The place is secure without us doing anything, we have food so we don't have to hunt or farm, and there is no place that we need to raid because we already have almost everything we could need. I will probably just find something to do in the store. Maybe ride a bike, kick a ball, eat some food, hang out with Katy or Carl, I could do a lot of stuff, but none of it sounds at all interesting. Except maybe hanging out with Carl or Katy.

       I think I liked it better at the prison. We all had jobs to do there. No we can just sit around and do nothing. I don't see how my life was ever like this. I don't see how I could just sit around and watch T.V or play on my phone. Now that seems stupid and useless and it really is. Watching T.V and playing on my phone never accomplished anything. It definitely didn't help me save my parents.

       "Carl. What do you think we'll do when we get back?" I ask.

       "I don't know. Whatever we want I guess," he shrugs.

       I huff. "But that's boring. I want to do something useful, but there just isn't anything that we have to do there. Not like at the prison. Then we all had jobs to do," I shake my head.

        "Don't you want to be able to just relax without having to worry about getting eaten by a zombie? This is what everyone has wanted all along."

        "You just don't understand. I cant just sit around and wait for something interesting to happen. I have to do something. We dont get to just relax because as soon as we let our guard down something always happens. I'm tired of things happening Carl. I'm tired of staying in one place. I just want to roam around without having to worry about a huge group of people that are always counting on one another. Sometimes I miss being by myself. I had so much more freedom to do whatever I wanted, I had only me to feed, and then I could relax. I could just sit up in a tree and kill a squirrel for dinner. I could go at my own pace. Now it seems all I do is go places because I have to and I have to hurry because I have to. I'm tired of constantly moving because I have to. I just want to go. But when I want to not when someone tells me too," I ramble on, letting everything that had been bugging me fall off my shoulders.

        He thinks about this for a second. "You don't have to follow orders. You choose to Izzy. That's what being part of a group is about," he insists.

       "And I'm not sure I want to be part of a group," I mutter.

       He gives me an angry look. "Izzy. You're not going on your own again. I wont let you do that," he shakes his head.

       "Carl I know how to take care of myself. We're all going to just die anyways so why not enjoy my life while I still have time," I demand.

       "You can enjoy your life without taking all the risks Izzy," I know he's mad now by the way he says my name.

       "Your definition of enjoy is different than mine. Your definition of enjoying my life is keeping me locked up in a building where no zombies can get me and where I cant go anywhere," I snap. Here we go again with the fighting. "I cant just sit there and wait for death to come while I sit there and rot away in a building!"

       Katy and Mark just look away, pretending like they aren't there I assume. "You know that's a lie! I want you to have fun, but I don't want you to die. You cant be trusted to save yourself, you're too self sacrificing!"

       "You are not my mother Carl. You don't determine where I can and cant go! I am going to die someday and you aren't going to be able to stop it so just stop because no matter what you do I'm just going to die! We are all going to die Carl and it doesn't freaking matter what we try and do to stop it. Just like your mom and Hershel and everyone else that you see walking around in the streets! You cant stop it. My parents are dead! My brother is dead! We cant stop it! So let me be self sacrificing because if I am going to die then I am going to at least die for a good reason!" I scream.

         "Izzy," he sighs and pulls me into a hug. "Calm down Izzy its okay. I'm sorry for yelling. Everything is fine," he assures.

        "No," I shake my head and it rubs against his chest. "Its not alright."

       "It is. For now we are alright and that's good enough."

       I see Katy over is shoulder. She is looking at Mark sadly. Everyone here knows what I just said is true. "You never know how much time you have," I quote a book that I read in 7th grade called "The Host"

       "Just come on. We have to be close now," Carl ignores what I just said and pulls me forward.

       I follow him slowly, sadly. Sometimes I think I'm bipolar. One minute I'm happy, then I'm mad, then I'm sad. All within a couple minutes. Or maybe I just have small nerves where I get mad or sad or happy really easy. Maybe.

      We walk for about a half hour before I see the big building up the road. I don't even run ahead when I see it. Carl, Katy, and Mark do, but I don't. I just keep walking at my normal pace. I hear a groan from the woods and I turn around and see just a single zombie walk out of the woods. I pull my sword out and approach it slowly. It swings at me and I jump back. I pull my swing back and swing the sword at its neck. The head comes clean off. I turn around and continue walking toward the store. Carl, Katy and Mark are already to the door when I get to the parking lot.

       I continue walking at the same pace, but stop when I realize something is wrong. I can feel it. I look around, searching for the things causing my uneasiness. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, but I can feel it. I can feel it all the way from the center of my stomach all the way to the very tips of my fingers. Its a tingly feeling. I should turn around and run right now. I should as far away from this place as possible. My instincts are telling me to run, but my mind is telling me to stay. Carl and Katy and Mark are in the building. I have to help them. I don't know what I'm saving them from or if I'm just imagining the tingling in my body and my instincts telling me to run.

        I will wait a second for Carl to come out and get me and if he doesn't then something is wrong. I wait at least 5 minutes and he still hasn't returned. Something is wrong. He would have come ad get me. I just wonder what is holding him up.

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