My Friday Frights today is a bit of Fan Fiction. If you love The Walking Dead, hopefully you will enjoy this peek into Carl's future...
Zombie Trick or Treat
“Carl, we need to talk.”
“Shhh… Carol.” Carl nodded towards the herd of Walkers at the bottom of the hill. He had his gun trained on the one that seemed to be the leader. The others were just ambling around, not doing much of anything. Some were still feeding off the deer they’d taken down. The one that Carl was interested in turned, looking their way. He wondered if it sensed they were there. Carl knew it couldn’t smell them, they were down wind… still, it took a step towards the incline, staring directly at the bush the two humans were hiding behind.
“What are you doing?” Carol hissed.
“Zombie hunting. I have something special planned for Halloween.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… do you really think a party is appropriate? We just buried three people this morning.”
“I can’t think of anything better than a celebration. We buried three of our own… we took down over a hundred of theirs.”
“Carol, that’s the end of the discussion. This isn’t a democracy anymore. That ended when my dad died.”
“Daryl won’t be gone forever. When he comes back…”
Sighting the rifle in, Carl flipped the selector switch off of ‘safe’. “You better hope he doesn’t.” Then he pulled the trigger. The Walker’s head exploded. It took only a moment for the others to react. The dead turned as one and began running, some dragging their limbs behind, others dragging themselves across the ground, since their legs no longer functioned. Carl chuckled at the stampede… it was the only word that could describe it. Carl took aim again, planning on taking a few more down, but before he could pull the trigger again, one of the zombies fell to the ground, an arrow sticking out of its head. Then another one dropped. He turned the gun towards the woods and looked through the sights. Sure as shit… Daryl.
“Son of a bitch.” His finger rested against the trigger. He would only get one shot… then behind him he heard the hammer on Carol’s gun click into place and felt the barrel touch the back of his head.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you…”
Carl put the gun down and turned, an innocent smile on his face. He wasn’t innocent, hadn’t since he shot his father in the back. Carol had never bought the “he’d been bit, I had no choice,” story. There were always choices.
“I was just playing, Carol. You know I’d never hurt Daryl.”
They were back at camp and everyone was surrounding Daryl, telling him all about the battle the day before.
“I took down three Walkers on my own,” Judith said, her eyes lit with pride.
“That’s my little ass kicker,” Daryl said, picking the seven year old up. He looked around at the children, some of them already in their costumes. “What’s going on?”
“Trick or Treat,” Carol said. “Carl’s idea.”
“He said it’s something kids used to do every year,” Judith said. “I’m going to be a witch.” She held her fingers up, claw like and cackled.
“You’ll be a scary witch for sure,” Daryl said.
Carol took his arm and nodded her head, indicating she wanted to talk privately. Setting Judith down, he followed her towards the tent that was theirs.
“Daryl, he’s psychotic.”
“Carl? Come on, he’s a little troubled…”
“He shot Rick in the back. He claimed he’d been bit, but I examined his body before we buried him… he was lying.”
“What did Hershelle say?”
“He’s scared of him. Everyone is. Maggie caught him watching her while she showered… Beth… she’s pregnant and she won’t say who the father is, but I’ve seen her eyes when Carl’s around.”
“She’s twenty-four Carol, if she and Carl are together…”
“I think he raped her.”
“That’s crazy, Carol.”
“Maybe, but I told you about Rick. Someone dug up his grave last week. The dirt was put back, but I could tell it had been disturbed. So I dug down to see…”
“His body was still there, but someone took his head.”
“I have no idea, but I think it was Carl.”
The sun was just going down and the children were beginning to come out. Daryl laughed at some of the costumes. Judith, as promised, was a witch. There were a few ghosts and even a few zombies. The kids all shrieked. Daryl and Carol were sitting outside their tent. Daryl had made a trip into town and scrounged up some Candy Corn and chocolate bars from a convenience store.
“I can’t believe there was anything there,” he said. “Most everything was looted, but I found this stuff on the top of one of the storage shelves. Almost missed it.”
Carl came out and said that he’d arranged a surprise… “A parade.” Then he led the kids into the supply tent.
“This should be fun,” Daryl said. Carol just shivered and exchanged looks with some of the other survivors. Daryl had been gone for a while. He didn’t know what Carl had become. She had a feeling he’d find out though.
When the children came out, the color drained from Daryl’s face. They were all wearing black hoods that covered their faces. In their hands they held sticks, each with the head of a zombie on it, except for Carl, who had Rick’s head on the end of his.
“I told you he was psycho…”
Word Count: 911