What Really Happened: A Memoir from the Apocalypse

Chapter 6: Childproof

Tears chilled my face and sweat stuck to my back as I sat on the counter. My legs ached and felt like they were going to fall off. I closed my eyes, and my back trembled as I exhaled. I blacked out. I brought myself back. "I—is Carl gonna die?"

"We're gonna do everything we can, honey, okay?" When the woman finished scanning me for scratches, cuts, or bites, she handed me a glass of water. "My name's Maggie."

My arm shook, and I almost dropped the glass. I held it close to my mouth and felt sick to my stomach. "My mom just died. Carl's gonna die..." My brain didn't register the words that left my mouth.

I pushed myself off the counter when I heard Carl scream from the other room.

The strangers circled around the bed as Carl sobbed in agony.

The old man looked to Shane. "You! Hold him down."

Shane knelt by the side of the bed and held Carl down by his chest. His stomach was opened, and blood sat on top of it. The old man scraped his insides. Carl's cry for help was continuous. I tried to move away from the door, but my legs locked in place. I was conscious, but as good as blacked out, and the scene knocked the wind out of me. Maggie placed her hand on the top of my head, then moved to the bed to help.

"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" Rick shouted.

"Rick! Do you want him to live?"

"He needs blood," Maggie said.

"DO IT NOW!" Shane yelled.

The old woman stuck a needle in Rick's arm. Carl went quiet, then fell asleep.

Shane shook his head and tapped Carl's arm. "Wait, what, is he?"

"He just passed out." The old man used a metal tool to pull a tiny bullet fragment out of him. "One down. Five to go."

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That night:

The Monopoly board and cards were laid on the table. I pretended like I knew the instructions; but was tired and slow. I leaned my face into my fist. "If we're all gonna die, what's the point?"

"We're not gonna die," Glenn said. "We've lost people. A lot of them. People important to us. But we can't give up. Things are scary now, but we keep fighting, because they didn't get to. Your mom told you to be strong. You've gotta stand by that. We could be the ones to see when things get better."

"Does Andrea even know about Carl?" I asked.

"She knew finding Sophia was important to your mom. That's why she's out there. She knows you're safe. She asked me to keep an eye on you, so that's what I'm gonna do."

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The next morning:

I crossed my legs on the chair by the kitchen table, and drank a glass of tea that Patricia, the old woman and accidental shooter's wife made. It was bitter, but the thought of water bored me. The shooter was named Otis. He stepped up and accepted the blame, and went out with Shane the night before to get medical supplies. Shane came back, but a walker attacked Otis on the run. Patricia tried to keep herself busy so she wouldn't go mad.

The front door opened.

"Mallory?"

I didn't respond.

"Mallory, honey?" Andrea walked into the kitchen. "Oh, thank God."

I crossed my arms and wouldn't take my eyes off the table. "So I guess Sophia's more important than me."