A/N: Decided to write a story and include a specific character still alive. Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of the characters, just the one's I make up! :)

Three weeks on the road. It had originally been planned as a two week mission, but circumstances had forced the small recruitment group to delay their return to Alexandria. Carl Grimes, now seventeen and more experienced than even some of his older companions, was eager to return home. It was a long time to be separated from his father and sister, who he knew worried about him. It was a long time to be separated from Enid, who had left on her own expedition with Aaron and Tara, a week prior to his departure. Apart from Jesus and Rosita, his present company was not as interesting as Enid's and he always loved listening to the stories she told about Tara's funny exploits. For now, he just hunkered down at the back of the van and ignored the conversation between Eric and a new person, Thomas, they had picked up a couple of days ago. The man was asking a lot of banal questions about Alexandria and Carl had had enough of pretending to be interested. Instead, he just read a book he had found in the lap of a walker he had discovered bedridden when they had raided a hospice. It might be interesting, he had explained to a skeptical Ron Anderson, who questioned his choice of Their Eyes Were Watching God, when a copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea was right on the table close by. Besides, he reasoned, the cover's better. Ron snorted and continued clearing rooms, leaving Carl to admire the sad yet comforting face on the book. The more he read, the more he was satisfied with his choice.

"Damn, the rain's coming down harder," Jesus observed, turning the windshield wipers to their maximum.

"We've got another day before we get to Alexandria," Rosita mused, squinting out her own window to no avail. They saw flashes of lightning up ahead and heard the early rumbles of the storm. "Perhaps we should pull over," she suggested.

"Not on this road," Jesus retorted, pointing to the map in her lap. "Heath said a megaherd was making its way through here. We need to get past the I-99 intersection."

Rosita examined the map and shook her head. "Jesus, if we get stuck on this road-"

"We'll be fine."

Rosita bristled at his interjection but said nothing as they road further into the storm. She watched the lightning strike in the distance and reached over to take Jesus' hand. "Paul, we need to get off this road," she insisted vehemently. "Pull over."

"It's fine."

She shot him an incredulous look, unconvinced of his statement. The others had fallen silent as the rain fell against the side of the van, increasing from a small smattering to a roaring crescendo as another round of lightning lit up the suddenly dark afternoon sky.

"Paul," Rosita growled, pointing to the windshield. "We need to pull over. Now."

"Rosita we… Shit!"

Those in the back were thrown around by Jesus' swerving brake. The van shuddered to a stop, almost skidding off the road as they narrowly avoided crashing into a fallen tree. Doing so, however, caused them to strike a downed electrical tower, shattering the windshield and loudly blowing out one of the tires.

"Fuck," Rosita swore as she looked behind her to check the other passengers. "You alright Eric?"

The man nodded and offered a faint smile as he peered out the front through the torrential rain. "Peachy… Must have been struck by lightning."

"Or a flood," Rosita countered, wiping rain and blood from her face, wincing at the tiny pieces of glass that had struck her. Beyond the felled tree, they could see water blanketing the highway, leaving little doubt in her mind that they should have stopped earlier. Carl listened to her, Jesus, and Eric bicker over what to do next while he looked out the back window. It took a moment, but from the other side of the highway he could see them sliding down the hills that lined the asphalt. At first it was just a couple, sloshing through rising water, mud, and broken branches to get stuck at the bottom, submerged. But then Carl saw more appear, tumbling out of the forest and lurching through the rain as they began to pile up and climb on top of each other, motivated by some unknown to keep moving forward.

"Rosita! Jesus!" Carl called urgently, tucking his book into his backpack and pulling out a gun. "Heath was right about that megaherd."

Ron and Elena Davos, another teenager who now resided at Alexandria with her parents and kid brother, shoved their way to the back to see what Carl was motioning to. Elena muttered a swift curse in Spanish under her breath before she turned to Rosita.

"We need to move."

Jesus attempted to put the van in reverse but but the busted tire screeched, attracting more attention.

"You're making it worse!" Elena yelled over the din of the rain. "They're heading this way!"

Eric saw them moving into the median and banged on the van. "Paul, get out!" He shouted. "We can't stay here!"

"Why not?!" Ron demanded. "Can't we just stay quiet in the van?!"

Rosita was grabbing her stuff out of the passenger seat, shaking her head at him. "No we cannot stay here! Heath said the heard was more than one thousand! One pin drop and we're fucked! They'll tear that van apart!"

"But-"

"Anderson, you want to hunker down in that van for a few hours and hope a couple thousand walkers don't notice you, especially with a busted windshield, you can stay, the rest of you this way!" She rolled up the map and tucked it into her pocket. "There's a side road through these woods that leads to a small town. It's probably deserted, but there may be some places to hide."

There was little time to argue as the walkers drew closer, their collective noise giving the storm around them a run for its money.

"Let's move!" Jesus ordered as Carl shoved Ron away from the van, following after Rosita as she led the way to the woods. "Keep your eyes open! Knives out!"

"Don't use your guns unless absolutely necessary," Eric advised as they sloshed up the muddy incline, looking behind them every once in a while to keep track of the growing herd on the highway. The walkers were plinkoing their way past cars and trucks that were abandoned on the roads, but they were quickly making their way towards the Alexandrians' van, unencumbered by the storm.

"Hey! Hurry up!" Elena hissed at a lagging Ron once they reached the tree line. They moved through the trees at a sluggish pace, pausing every once in a while when the lightning flashed to illuminate their way. They were accosted a couple of times by some stray walkers, but they struggled forward, the threatening sound of thousands of walkers taking up their rear.

"Faster!" Rosita ordered over the thunder when they finally reached the side road that paralleled the highway, giving them a moment's respite from the mud and brush they had trudged through. Carl could see how anxious his friends were and he tried to quell his own panic as they ran down the road towards the town Rosita had spoken of. The detour down asphalt provided them with a good two hundred meters of distance from the herd, which was now definitely following them.

They made it to the small boarded up town and instantly began banging on doors, hoping to find one that was open. The area looked like it had not been touched for years, even by looters, which was rare. The streets had very few cars on them and none of the storefronts were damaged. In fact, a lot of them looked like they had been locked up tight from the outside and the town evacuated at the same time.

"Jesus!" Thomas yelped when several walkers appeared at the front of a toy store, growling and clawing at the glass as the man backed away into the rain. "Most of these places got walkers in 'em!"

"We need to keep moving!" Rosita shouted as Jesus led the way down the street. A few walkers shambled out from behind a parked car, but Carl and Elena took care of it while Ron and Eric continued to try other doors. Jesus moved onto the main street and caught sight of a car with the taillights on outside of what looked to be a hardware store. Suspicious, he ran over to check it out, pulling out his gun in case someone was inside. He came up from behind and peered through the side window. The keys were in the ignition, but it was empty. Jesus looked around, but in the downpour, it was impossible to tell if someone else was there, but he could not imagine that whoever left it running was not close by. Unfortunately for the owner, this was a lose-lose situation and he had people he needed to get to safety.

"Hey!" Jesus waved at them from down the block, motioning towards the car he had found. While the others hurried after him, Carl hung back when a whinny caught his attention. He caught sight of something moving through the rain behind a two-story boutique and snuck back to see a horse tied to pipe with two mutilated walkers on either side, also chained to the pipe. In his five years living in the apocalypse, he had never seen such a bizarre sight. The blue roan quarter horse was chomping at its bit and tugging at its reins as it stood soaked between two armless, mouthless walkers, who were also tugging on their chains, the storm agitating them all as lightning struck close by.

"What the hell..."

He froze when the barrel of a gun pressed against his back.

"Don't move, don't say a word," ordered a boy's voice, causing Carl to frown and glance over his shoulder to see a child in a blue poncho, no more than nine or ten, holding up his gun with both hands. "I said don't move!"

Carl wiped the rain out of his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where the child had come from. "How old are you?"

"That's not important," the boy countered, removing the hood of the poncho, revealing shoulder length dreadlocks and bright brown eyes. He shifted the gun into one hand and quickly patted Carl down, finding the Colt Python he kept on his hip. The boy grabbed it and tucked it into his belt, but let Carl keep his backpack. "Your friends are around the corner and a herd is coming. You need to leave."

If a horde of walkers were not heading his way during a massive storm, there was would have been something slightly amusing about being accosted by a child with a gun.

"I want my gun back," Carl requested and the boy shook his head, keeping his weapon trained on the teenager while he moved around him towards the agitated horse and chained walkers.

"You just need to get to your friends. They've stolen one of my cars and they're waiting for you down the street. You need to get there quickly," the boy insisted urgently and Carl could tell that while suspicious, he was also genuinely trying to get Carl to flee to safety. "You have five minutes before herd gets here!" Using one of the walkers, the boy managed to climb up onto the horse, backing it up and turning it around as he kept an eye on their surroundings. "Please, just go!" He pointed down the road. "That way!"

Carl could hear the growling and knew he did not have time to argue with the mysterious rider. Gulping in some air, he moved back to the front of the store. "I want my gun back!"

The boy on the horse laughed and shook his head. "No take backs," he yelled, spurring the large beast to take off down the alley behind the buildings. Carl watched him for a moment before he ran off to catch up with his friends.

"Where's Carl?!" Rosita demanded after counting the group huddled around the car Jesus had found. "Ron! Where is he?!"

"They're coming!" Elena interrupted, pointing down the road. When the lightning flashed once again, they could all see small groups of walkers making their way out of the side streets onto the main drag they were on. "We need to go!"

Eric opened the doors and motioned for Elena to get in. "CARL!" He screamed as the young lady scrambled out of the rain. "CARL!"

Jesus came around to Rosita, looking around with wide eyes as he did. "We need to get out now. Someone left this car running for a reason and they'll be back soon."

Ron pulled out his gun as the walkers moved closer and Rosita held up her hand.

"Do not fire that gun!" She screamed. "They are not that close and we don't have enough ammunition to fend them all off!"

"Eric!"

They all turned to see Carl running up the street, waving at them to get their attention. Jesus sighed in relief and motioned to the car.

"Okay, everyone else get in, we need to be ready to leave when he gets here," the man ordered. Eric was about to grab Ron to push him in when the sudden appearance of a horse from behind the hardware store frightened them all. The rider was difficult to see through the rain, but held up a gun at them before turning to see the herd ambling down the wet road towards them.

"Ron, wait!" Thomas warned just before the teenager raised his gun and shot at the horse in a panic. The horse reared up on its haunches, nearly throwing the rider before it took off down the road, away from them and the herd. In an attempt to stop Ron, who was still wildly firing his gun, the new arrival got clipped by a bullet and fell to the ground, howling in pain.

"STOP!" Rosita cried, striking the boy in the face with the butt of her machete, causing him to drop his gun in the street. She and Eric grabbed Thomas and helped him into the car, Eric staying in the back with him to stop the bleeding while Jesus looked around urgently.

"Where's Car? I don't see him anymore!"

"Oh my God! Look!" Elena pointed frantically from the back of the car. Rosita, Jesus, and Ron turned to see Carl lying in the street, barely visible in the rain. They could not tell if he was moving.

"CARL!" Rosita screamed, taking off for the young man. "Carl!"

"Rosita, wait!" Jesus called, running to grab her, pointing to a large group of walkers that began to cut off their path to Carl.

"Jesus! The road!" Eric yelled, splitting their attention between their fallen friend and the road they needed to take to get out of town. A couple of walkers were moving onto it, but it was evidently clear that they only had a couple of minutes before they would be trapped.

Jesus and Rosita exchanged desperate glances and Rosita pulled out her gun. "Paul, we cannot leave him… Paul," she gasped, but the path to Carl was now swarming with walkers.

"Oh my God," Jesus exhaled. "No…."

"Rosita! We need to leave!" Elena sobbed, pulling out her gun and firing on a walker wandered closer to the others. "Jesus! Rosita!"

Jesus hesitated while Rosita grabbed his arm, knowing they had to leave. "Paul! Paul!"

The man flinched and then turned to the car, sprinting back to the driver's seat. Rosita shoved Ron into the back and dove into the front, choking back a sob as Jesus gunned the engine and sped off down the road, striking a few walkers as they swerved across the wet pavement and sped out of the infested town.

The rain was pounding in Carl's face as he lay on the ground in agony. A stray bullet from Ron's gun had struck him in the shoulder and the pain paralyzed him. Above the roar of the rain, he could hear the faint growling of incoming walkers and his heart raced faster at the thought of being consumed in the street, away from home.

"Help," he rasped before crying out as searing pain shot from his shoulder across his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to move, but it hurt too much. The snarls drew closer and he immediately wished he had his gun. He did not want to be ripped apart. He had seen too many friends die that way.

Carl flinched when a horse suddenly appeared above him, snorting angrily and stomping around aggressively as the boy dismounted and fell to his side.

"Hey! Can you move?!" The boy shouted anxiously, tugging at his backpack to remove it. At first Carl assumed the child was just taking advantage of the moment and robbing a wounded stranger, but then the boy grabbed Carl's arms and tried to get him up to his feet. The only problem was that the boy was too small to lift the teenager off of the ground and accidentally dropped Carl on his wounded side. "Sorry!" He apologized as Carl released a sob. He looked around and saw their opening slowly disappearing. "We need to leave… Mom! Mom!"

The abrupt appearance of a second rider startled Carl as the person maneuvered their horse next to the boy's. "Andre!" She barked. "Is he bit?!"

"Help me, Mom!" The boy retorted angrily, still trying to get Carl off the ground. His mother's face twitched as she shook her head.

"IS HE BIT?!" She demanded and he shook his head.

"He's been shot! Mom, please!" He pleaded and she dismounted, grabbing Carl's good side and lifting him up to his feet.

"Get on your horse!" She ordered urgently, rushing Carl to the quarter horse as the child climbed back on. "This is going to hurt," she warned the young white teen before she unceremoniously deadlifted him, relying on her son to help pull him up behind him on the horse. She scooped up the forgotten backpack and got back on her mount, pointing straight at her son. "Andre, I swear if he starts to fall, you let him. You are not going to die for that boy, understood?!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Okay, let's go!" She yelled, leading them away from the herd.

Jesus pulled the car to a stop along the road and slammed his fists against the wheel.

"Damn it!" He bellowed angrily. "FUCK!"

"Paul," Rosita whispered, catching the frightened look on Elena's face as tears continued to stream down the young woman's face. She had not stopped crying since they had left the town. Thomas was still bleeding from his leg wound and Rosita reached out to touch her friend's shoulder. "We need to get back to Alexandria..."

Jesus shook his head. "What are we going to tell Rick?" He responded quietly so that only she could hear him. "We should have done something."

"We can't stop here, that herd is right behind us," Ron snapped from the back. "Let's go!"

Eric and Rosita exchanged angry looks while Jesus whirled around in his seat.

"What did you just say?"

Ron hesitated under the man's gaze but continued. "Carl fell, there's nothing-"

"PAUL!" Rosita screamed as the man shoved open the front door and stormed around the car, yanking open Ron's door and dragging the young man out into the raging storm. "PAUL!"

"You little shit!" Jesus snarled, slamming the boy against car, glaring at him through the rain. "YOU got him killed! You fired that gun and shot him!"

"That person on the horse-"

"WAS RUNNING AWAY!" Jesus yelled as Rosita got out of the car, watching the interaction warily. "You shot at someone who was retreating and now Thomas is wounded and Carl is dead!"

"It wasn't my fault," Ron protested frantically and Rosita grabbed Jesus before he could make another move.

"Paul, no," she warned, squinting around to ensure no walkers snuck up on them. "We need to get out of here... Thomas is hurt and he needs medical attention. We can't do that here."

Jesus slowly backed away from Ron, eyes still seething with rage. He caught the worried look on Rosita's face and shook his head in frustration and pain at the loss they had just experienced.

"Fuck," he growled, moving back to the driver's seat.

Rosita eyed Ron with disgust and opened his door. "Get in the car," she snapped, rolling her eyes when he flinched at the crack of lightning. "When we get back to Alexandria, we're all going to have to live with what happened back there, but you..." She leaned in to him. "You are going to explain to Rick how your useless, panicky trigger finger got his son killed."

She slammed the door in his face and took a moment to take a deep breath, thankful for the rain to cover up her own tears. Even after her accusing words, she felt completely responsible for what had happened to Carl and it broke her heart at the mere image of him disappearing behind the wall of walkers. She released a cry of frustration and kicked the side of the car before she got back into the car.

"Let's go," she breathed, doing everything in her power not to kill the young man behind her.

In the back, Ron shifted around uncomfortably. "I didn't kill Carl," he asserted pathetically and Elena reached around and punched him, spitting at his face.

"Puta," she sneered. "Shut the fuck up!" Eric held her back, motioning to the groaning Thomas, who she was leaning over. She eased up a bit, but continued to glare daggers at the other teen in the car. "I hope we make it back to Alexandria, 'cause if Rick doesn't kill you, I'm going to, you fucktwat!

Rosita glanced over at Jesus and even in their grief they could not help but exchange a small thankful smile about the young woman they had insisted on bringing back to Alexandria a couple of years back.

Michonne looked up from the book she was reading to see her son enter the small nurse's office they were keeping Carl in. Andre offered her some venison jerky while he sat down in one of the old chairs and chewed on his own dinner.

"How is he?" The boy asked and Michonne shrugged, closing the book and resting it on the desk before she took her son's offering.

"He'll live," she responded, watching him swivel around in the chair, eyeing the backpack on the desk that his mother had clearly rooted around in. "It was a through and through. He's resting."

"Okay," Andre mumbled, chewing on his meal as he poked around in the bag. "I'm sorry."

Michonne looked up from her jerky and tilted her head to the side questioningly. "For what?"

"For leaving the car running," he replied repentantly and she smiled. Ever since they had returned home, she could see that he was beating himself up over what had happened back in town.

Like any outing, they had had a concrete plan of how to get in and out of that little town. They would take a car and two horses, tying up the horses in strategic spots in the area, masked by a few mutilated walkers to mask the horses while Andre and his mother moved from storefront to storefront, clearing slowly and searching for anything useful. She had left Andre with the car while she tied up the horses and in a rush to beat the worst of the storm and the incoming herd, he had left the car running. She understood his reasoning and ultimately, it was not so much a problem, since they still had the two horses.

"I'm just glad your safe," she whispered, watching him glance over at the little examination room the teen was sleeping in. "Are you worried about him?"

Andre shrugged, eyeing the Colt Python resting nearby. "Just wondering why his friends left him behind..."

Michonne sighed and leaned back in her chair. Unlike her son, she had seen the events that led to Carl being shot play out and as horrible as it was, she understood why it had happened. "It looks like they thought he was dead," she informed him and he frowned.

"Because he'd been shot?" He asked worriedly and she shook his head.

"They couldn't get to him and the walkers were closing in..." She caught her son's eyes and she leaned forward. "We need to be careful."

"I know."

Michonne nodded and reached out for the book she had been reading. "Good, because I don't want you ever getting shot like that," she muttered.

They were quiet for a minute as Andre stood up, set down his food, and peered into the examination room, eyeing the teen before he turned to watch his mother read. "You think his family is waiting for him?" He asked solemnly and she looked up at him, biting her lip at the seriousness in the eight-year-old's eyes. He had always been such a perceptive child and even now, having lived five years in this hellish post-world, she still admired how sensitive he was to others.

"I'm sure they are," she replied reassuringly, offering him a faint smile. He kicked at the dirty floor and shoved his hands in his pockets, lowering his eyes to the ground. His dreadlocks fell forward, covering his face and hiding his expression from her.

"If they're still alive," he added and her face fell. She watched him for a moment before she returned to her book.

"Yeah, Andre," she murmured. "If his family is still alive..." She motioned to the desk where his food lay. "Finish your jerky and go get some rest. I'll come get you when it's your shift."

Andre's face twisted but he refused to protest. Instead, he grabbed his dinner and headed out the door.

"I love you," she called over her shoulder and he smiled.

"I love you too, mom."