Chapter 34 Damn I’ve Put Up With You Long Enough!

“Magnus…

just wait for me at the starting point…” Carl forced the words through clenched teeth as another wave of exhaustion rolled through him.

His muscles burned, his legs felt heavier with every step, and even breathing had become work, yet he kept moving.

Without realizing it, Magnus Vane had already become someone Carl instinctively associated with safety—the person waiting at the end of the road who could handle whatever Carl couldn’t.

Images from the quarry and the farm kept flashing through his mind.

Magnus crushing walker skulls with the Stone Sledgehammer, clearing paths that nobody else wanted to approach, and standing in front of adults twice Carl’s size without backing down had left a deep impression on him.

By now, Carl wasn’t continuing because his body had anything left.

He was continuing because he believed he could reach Magnus.

A little over a kilometer remained.

Then less than a thousand yards.

Half a mile.

A few hundred yards.

Carl’s vision had become blurry from sweat and exhaustion by the time he finally saw a familiar figure ahead.

Magnus had already circled back to the original starting point.

The Stone Sledgehammer rested beside his boots while he stood with his arms crossed, watching Carl approach from the distance.

His expression remained stern, but something warmer appeared beneath it as he watched the boy continue forward despite barely being able to lift his feet.

Magnus had expected determination; he hadn’t expected Carl to push himself this far.

“You’re tougher than you think, Carl,” Magnus murmured.

Watching the boy struggle through the last stretch made Magnus realize something he had overlooked.

Growth didn’t happen because somebody suddenly became fearless or strong enough to defeat everything in front of them.

It happened the moment they chose to take the next step despite being afraid.

Carl had already done that.

The first time he climbed out of the fire engine alone, something had changed.

Even without Magnus secretly following him, the boy had learned enough during the day to find some way to survive.

Maybe he would have hidden, doubled back, climbed onto a roof, or abandoned the original route completely, but Magnus now believed Carl would have kept thinking instead of simply giving up.

Minute after minute passed.

The sun sank lower.

By the time the last light began disappearing beyond the trees, Carl was finally close enough that Magnus could clearly see his face.

His wooden armor was dirty, his shirt soaked with sweat, and his bandaged elbow had turned dark with dried blood.

Worse, a loose cluster of walkers had gathered behind him and continued staggering after him.

Carl barely seemed aware of them anymore.

He reached Magnus through sheer stubbornness.

Then he lifted his head.

One eye was almost shut from sweat, his lips were dry, and his entire body trembled with exhaustion.

For just a moment, Magnus could almost picture an older Carl standing in front of him instead of the exhausted boy who had left the farm two days earlier.

Carl swallowed.

“I…

did it.” His voice was hoarse.

But the conviction behind those three words was stronger than anything Magnus had heard from him before.

Then Carl’s face relaxed.

His legs gave out.

Magnus moved before he hit the ground.

Carl fell forward and landed against Magnus instead of the pavement.

Magnus caught him with one arm supporting his back and the other beneath his legs.

The boy had nothing left; his eyes were already closing.

“You did good,” Magnus said quietly.

He adjusted Carl’s weight.

“Really good.” Magnus carried him to the fire engine and carefully laid him across the wide rear bench seat.

He made sure Carl was breathing normally and that the abrasion on his elbow was still only superficial.

Then he pulled the door shut.

Bang.

Magnus turned around.

The final orange light of sunset burned behind him while darkness settled over the street ahead.

Walkers continued approaching.

More than a dozen.

They had followed Carl almost all the way back.

Magnus slowly picked up the Stone Sledgehammer.

A grin appeared.

“All right.” His fingers tightened around the handle.

“I’ve put up with you bastards long enough.” Carl’s eyes moved beneath his eyelids.

Slowly, they opened.

A pale beam of morning sunlight slipped through the curtains and fell across the bed.

Carl lifted one hand until the light rested across his palm, feeling the warmth against his skin while scattered memories returned.

The town.

The storm drain.

The walker.

The fire station.

The long walk back.

Magnus.

Carl suddenly pushed himself upright.

His whole body immediately protested.

“I did it?” He looked around in confusion.

“I’m alive.” His eyes widened.

“Magnus saved me.” “What are you yelling for?” The bedroom door opened.

Magnus stepped inside carrying a bowl of steaming tomato soup.

“You wake up and immediately start making enough noise to advertise the house to every walker in Georgia.” He set the bowl down, then leaned over and checked Carl’s eyes.

“If you bring one through the door, you’re dealing with it yourself.” Carl blinked.

Magnus seemed satisfied with what he saw and handed him the bowl.

“Nothing fresh left in this house, so I used canned tomatoes and whatever else was still good enough to eat.

Drink it while it’s hot.

You need the calories.” The smell immediately made Carl’s stomach tighten.

He took a spoonful.

His eyes lit up.

Then another.

And another.

Within seconds, he was eating fast enough that Magnus had to wonder whether the kid was tasting anything at all.

Between bites, Carl asked, “How long was I asleep?” Magnus leaned against the wall.

“Since I brought you here?

About a day and two nights.” Carl stopped eating.

“What?” His pale face filled with alarm.

“We have to go back.” He immediately tried to move the bowl aside.

“Mom’s gonna be freaking out.

Dad too.” Just saying Lori’s name brought everything Carl had been holding back closer to the surface.

His eyes became damp, and for a second Magnus saw the exhausted child beneath all the determination from the day before.

Magnus raised one hand.

“Sit down.” Carl froze.

“We’re not going back yet.” His shoulders sagged.

“You’ve still got half the week left.” Carl looked miserable.

Magnus reminded him, “Rick told you to follow my instructions.” Carl lowered his eyes.

“I remember.” His voice was barely audible.

Magnus sighed inwardly.

Some of yesterday’s confidence had survived.

Some of it had disappeared the moment Carl woke up somewhere safe and started thinking about his mother again.

That was exactly why Magnus hadn’t taken him straight back to the farm.

The first day had broken through Carl’s dependence.

Now Magnus needed time to make sure the lesson stayed with him instead of disappearing the second Lori wrapped her arms around him.

“Finish the soup,” Magnus said.

“Then training starts again.” Carl looked up.

Magnus gave him a reassuring smile.

“When we go back, Rick and Lori are going to notice the difference.” That confidence affected Carl immediately.

He looked at the soup.

Then at Magnus.

“Okay.” The answer came firmer this time.

Magnus nodded and left him to eat.

The house they were using was the same one Magnus had previously occupied during his scavenging trip through town.

The utilities had worked when he first found it, and enough of the basic furniture remained to make it far more comfortable than sleeping in the fire engine.

While Carl recovered, Magnus had taken advantage of the time to rest and organize supplies.

He entered the living room and picked up one of the comic books left behind on a shelf.

Captain America stared back from the cover, shield raised.

Magnus flipped through several pages.

“Superheroes.” He snorted.

“World ends and suddenly none of you are around.” He tossed the comic aside.

Depending on imaginary rescuers was a good way to die.

People had to save themselves now.

Click.

Magnus looked toward the doorway.

His expression changed.

Carl stood there wearing the Wooden Armor Set again.

Back straight.

Chest lifted.

No hesitation in his posture.

It was the same armor he had worn before, but the boy inside it looked different.

Two days earlier, Carl had put it on because Magnus ordered him to.

Now he wore it like equipment.

He had faced a walker alone.

Killed one himself.

Crossed the town.

Made it back.

And survived exhaustion that had pushed him beyond anything he had experienced before.

Magnus slowly smiled.

Carl Grimes had crossed his first real threshold.

He wasn’t finished training.

Not even close.

But he was no longer the same boy who had climbed into the fire engine at Hershel’s farm.