Sage ? Carl Grimes

{Fix You by Coldplay}

Sage

My blade raggedly embedded through the temple of a creature. It went limp in my arms and a single strand of dark blood ran down the deep, deadly gash.

The body to the zombie was incredibly heavy, and I found it slightly tipping me sideways. I grunted and tossed it aside, earning another weak kill. Tens of bodies were pooled at my feet, and I heard Carl sigh as he killed off the others by the glass doors.

I stopped walking to catch my breath, loosely holding my knife. I panted and blinked and watched Carl, awestruck.

Three zombies stumbled out from the shop labeled Mimi's Cafe. Their jaws were disoriented and clattered as they extended their arms, reaching for Carl's body and flesh and insides and life.

Carl wiped his lips with the sleeve to his plaid flannel. He took a few steps back and let the zombies follow him, and he laughed a little. Carl positioned his hat before using his hand to hit one clear across the face. It threw the first zombie back and caused it to stumble, collapsing on top of the other two. The three zombies each helplessly fell down to the pavement, trying to redeem.

"Sage!" Carl grunted, turning around and roughly motioning his hand.

I paused for a moment before realizing he needed my help. I then made an obstacle over the dead bodies that littered the grounds, meeting up with Carl by the glass doors.

Before I could pull out my knife, Carl brought his foot back and stepped on the first one's head. The zombie stopped gurgling and its insides went flat on the gravel. I scrunched my nose but held my knife, bending down and plunging the blade through its eye. I took care of the final one as Carl let out his final energy, his boot bloodied.

I stood up from the ground and wiped at my jeans, my hands shaking.

Carl's breaths accelerated and he took his hat off, holding it. Hands ran in the tangles through his knotty, damp hair, and he swallowed in exhaustion.

"Damn walkers," Carl grunted. His hat slid a little and he fixed it, putting his gun down and taking steps back.

"Walkers?" I asked, breathless. "That's what you call them?"

Carl squinted his eyes and had parted lips, beginning to blink. He panted and offered me a careless shrug.

"That's what we've always called them. Since the beginnin'," Carl mumbled, cleaning off his boot with a rag. I watched him dirty the cloth with the dark substance, and my stomach turned at the term, we.

"We?" I thought aloud, wanting to clasp a hand over my mouth just as I allowed myself to say it.

Carl pursed his lips and shoved the rag back into his bag, zipping it up. It was tossed over his shoulder and he took his gun back out, cocking it.

"You ask a whole lotta questions darling, you know that?" Carl said, shaking his head and grimacing. "Questions that do you no justice of knowing. So if I were you, I'd stop."

"Well, maybe it's because you're so damn approachable," I cunningly shot at him, shocked to hear myself speak these words. Carl narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth at my cocky comeback, but he closed his lips shut and shook his head again, annoyed.

"I really don't need the attitude today, Sage. I'm trying to keep you and I both alive, and you're making that more difficult than it needs to be," Carl growled under his breath, kicking past the limp bodies. He had his gun steadied and began walking toward the glass doors, and I trailed behind.