The Walking Dead: reborn as Carl

"Judith is more than two months old. She is very cute and everyone likes her, even Daryl. However, Lori doesn't like the nickname Daryl gave Judith.

Daryl and More have never given up looking for you. Their persistence surprised me, but I can understand it. He blames himself and thinks your disappearance is all his fault.

Sean has changed a lot. He smiles less often and there is always a worry look between his brows. He smokes a lot now, although he doesn't say it and is even a little taciturn.

And Lori, even though she has Judith, but…"

In Carl's room, the two sat on the sofa facing each other, but there was no need for lights now.

The living room has good lighting and the sun is quite strong today.

Carl interrupted Glenn by taking a sip of the juice on the table.

"Glenn."

"Well, what's wrong?" Glenn was slightly startled.

"That's not what I'm asking." Carl put down the juice and pointed to the glass in front of Glenn. "You should try it. It tastes good."

Glenn smiled, as if he understood what Carl meant, and picked up the cup.

"Beth? Beth is very different from the others..."

"That's not it." Carl interrupted again.

"Huh?" Glenn was really confused this time.

Carl shook his head. "Although I really want to know, I would rather hear Beth tell me this in person rather than you telling me, but..."

Carl looked at Glenn hesitantly. After a moment's hesitation, he asked anxiously, "But I just want to know if Beth will forget me."

"No, no, Beth hasn't forgotten you, I'm sure of that." Glenn smiled.

At this moment, Carl finally looked somewhat like the Carl he was familiar with. Glenn felt much better. He took a sip of the juice and it tasted really good.

Karl seemed to be relieved and nodded heavily, "Well, that's enough. What I want to know is how the prison is developing."

Glenn thought for a moment and said:

"As for development, there are more people, and the area of ​​Hershel's crops has expanded a lot. However, weapons are only sporadic, and no large-scale weapons depot has been discovered. However, the first batch of crops planted by Hershel has matured, so we are not short of food for the time being."

"Forget it, Glenn, take a nap. Your status is not suitable for walking around casually. I need to think about something."

Carl shook his head, stood up and walked towards the bedroom.

Even after spending several days with Carl, Glenn still couldn't quite understand why Carl's thinking was so unconventional.

Glenn looked at Karl puzzledly, but couldn't help wondering in his heart, "Karl, what's in your bedroom? Why can't you let me go in and take a look."

Carl stopped in front of the bedroom door and looked back at Glenn calmly.

"This is the nineteenth time you've asked this question in these days.

You don't want to know, and you don't need to know.

Glenn, sometimes it's not a good thing to have everything figured out. Occasionally being confused, even if it's fake, is rare."

Karl opened the bedroom door, walked in, closed the door, and his eyes suddenly became a little dull.

Carl didn't know what to think after thinking about it. There were not so many ways to have the best of both worlds.

He returned to the bed, ignored "Penny" beside him, and lay down on the bed.

With his hands behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling with cloudy eyes.

Close, open, close, open again...

The prison and Woodbury...

Beth and Penny...

Sean and the Governor…

All of this seems distinct, yet also seems extremely similar.

And before that, the farm.

What about before the farm?

It seems to have become blurred a long time ago.

…

The sunlight was dappled and fragmented, and the temperature was a little high, as it always is in Georgia in the summer.

The jungle has never been a good place to escape the summer heat. It may have less direct sunlight than the outside world, but the temperature is not much lower.

But the price is countless mosquito bites, even at the end of the world,

The damn bugs that people talked about are still fine, but most of the people who said these words died.

A small stream flows through the woods. There are some smooth stone slabs on the edge of the stream. Obviously, the water level of the stream has dropped a lot in summer.

"Michonne, we have to hurry, we can't stay here too long, they will find us."

A man, a man in his prime, his white shirt was a little tattered and the original color was almost unrecognizable, and his face was full of beard. He was at his prime age, but the beard on his face had already turned mostly gray.

At this time, he was squatting by the stream with his rifle at his side. He quickly scooped up handfuls of water with both hands and poured them into his face or mouth.

I don't know if he was washing his face or drinking water.

The person called Michonne is a woman, a black woman, with dreadlocks. The knitted vest she wears is a little tattered, but still relatively clean.

She had a long white knife on her back and no gun on her.

She was not as anxious as he was, although neither of them had had water for a long time. She just stood beside him and looked at him with some worry.

He wanted to speak several times, but stopped as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Michonne?"

The man stopped holding the water and looked at the woman named Michonne in confusion.

"What are you daydreaming about? You know, we are very pressed for time."

"We should leave here." Michonne said this with a lack of energy."No! We can't leave!"

The man seemed to be provoked and roared directly, but he reacted in an instant, stood up quickly, and waved his hand.

"Michonne, you know, I didn't mean to do that, but...

Michonne, you promised me, you said you would help me, we would always be on the same side, right? Michonne.

The man grabbed Michonne's hand and stared at her blankly. It was hard to tell whether his eyes were bright or cloudy, but they were deep, as if he was trying hard to convince her of something.

Michonne frowned, sighed helplessly, stretched out her free right hand, and stroked the man's cheek, or rather, his full beard.

"Rick, I said I would do it, but..."

"but what?"

Rick held Michonne's hand tightly, the depth in his eyes turned into an unspeakable meaning, but it was obvious that he was still very persistent.

Michonne gently stroked Rick's cheek, "Rick, I don't know what you've been through, but no matter what, it's been so long, you should come out of the shadows.

You can't go on like this. I can help you, but I don't want you to really turn into a beast. You have to stay awake as long as you can get out of it.

No, you have to come out. If the person you care about is still here, they won't want to see you like this…"

Rick opened Michonne's hand and silently took out the kettle to fill it with water.

"If you want to talk, we can talk slowly after we kill them, but there is no time to waste now. If you want to leave, you can leave. I can still kill them by myself."

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