Tour Guide ➣ Carl Grimes

14. Cowerdice or Stupidity

Hannah woke in her bed, her eyes blinded by the sun shining in the window that faced out onto Alexandria. She had never planned to wake up this late, but with all that happened last night, she allowed herself to, just this once. Hannah let her hands run over the soft sheets that covered her mattress. She felt the warmth of the cotton, a feeling she was sure she would never get used to. Hannah wanted to sink into the mattress below her, she wanted to be swallowed up in its comfortable clutches.

Memories of her conversation with Ron played over and over in Hannah's mind. How did a day so wonderful turn so sour? She understood why Ron was upset, he had every right to be, but he had no right to take it out on her.

Hannah began to stand from her place in the bed, letting her legs swing over the sides and onto the cool, hardwood floor. She was going to talk to Ron. She knew she didn't deserve the things he said to her, and she knew he would understand.

As she rose, Hannah heard a cacophonous string of screams pour out from the town surrounding her. She jumped at the noise, having almost forgotten what that terrible, fear-filled sound was. Hannah moved quickly to the window that she had just been hiding away from, searching for the origin of the sound. She could see people running in all directions, frantic terror written across their faces, and yet, she could see no perpetrator of their fear.

Hannah then ran swiftly down her stairs, slipping as she turned. Had the walkers gotten in? Hannah thought. She leaped from the last step, going to look through a different window. She moved the loose curtain to the side. Hannah could now see the perpetrators.

She watched as men and women with W's haphazardly scraped onto their foreheads chased after the townspeople, all sorts of weapons reached out far in front of them. They seemed to have grabbed whatever they could, with some carrying heavy knives or axes, and others carrying guns that they must have taken from her own people. The invaders were wearing bloodstained and worn clothes, and Hannah couldn't help but be more scared of them because of it. She pulled the curtain closed, unable to look as her people were murdered, slashed right in front of her. Hannah didn't know what to do. Should she be helping people fight? Should she stay hidden away inside? Hannah knew her only choices were between cowardice and stupidity.

Hannah chose cowardice.

She slumped herself against the wall, staying as still and flat as she could. There were two other open windows on the walls across from her, each giving a perfect view of the chaos outside. She needed a plan. She needed to find somewhere safe.

Hannah slid farther down the wall, now sitting uncomfortably on her knees. She kept her eyes on the windows, trying her best to stay observant. She needed to get to the kitchen, Hannah thought. If she could grab the knives, or even a mallet maybe, Hannah would be protected. God, at that moment she wished she had asked Daryl to help her sooner. If only she hadn't been so scared. If only she didn't simply wish away the bad things.

When Hannah made it to the kitchen, still crouching below the sight of the windows, she pulled open the drawer that held the silverware. Inside were a few rows of utensils, each one from a completely different set. In the back were the knives. There were only two, one big, and one smaller. The big one was the kind that Hannah could remember her mother using to cut steak before cooking it. The smaller one, Hannah knew, was a paring knife. She had used it many times before for her own meals. Hannah's hand hovered over the two. If she has to fight, she thought, she is going to have to win. Hannah grabbed the big knife.

Hannah stayed in the kitchen, the knife clutched against her chest. She tried to tune out the sounds, the screaming and the crying of the people she knew. Her mind wandered back to her friends. She knew Enid would be okay, the girl knew what she was doing. Hopefully, Ron would be with her. Hopefully, she could protect him. Hannah didn't want to think about Carl, though. She knew, of course, that he would be okay. He had to be. She knew he was probably with Judith, standing over her crib, or maybe holding her in his arms. She knew Carl would protect his family; that would be his first priority. Hannah wanted to be sure, though. She so desperately wanted to know that he was okay. That all of her friends were okay.