Everything about Carl’s stance was pointing to distrust. From the way he kept his gun in hand, though lowered to his side, to the way he refused to relax his muscles and let his guard down near this strange, hard-to-read stranger, there was nothing pointing to him trusting him except for his words. He wanted to trust him, to give him a chance at a life that was more than this. It had to be hell, being stuck in this little, beaten up shack day in and day out. How often did he get to go outside? Was he even taught how to fight and defend himself? There were countless questions the teen had, but they weren’t important. The important questions were the one’s Rick always asked people. How many walkers had this guy killed? How many people? And why? He honestly doubted he could even get an answer from him though, considering he’d struggled a great deal to get so much as a single word out. Blue hues were locked on the blond’s face as he tipped his head downwards and gave a quick but tiny nod of his head, lips parting to begin what seemed to be a difficult task of answering him. Trust, he’d droned.
“Trust,” Carl repeated after the stranger, leaning back some where he knelt and resting his hands in his lap, gun still gripped tightly in one. “I wanna trust you. Just don’t give me a reason not to.” His gaze met with the other’s, his big brown eyes staring hopefully up at him and the nod that followed being enough to push Carl to go through with his decision. He raised his gun, aiming it at the end of the chain that was connected to the other male’s wrists. “This is going to be loud,” he warned, and then he pulled the trigger, a loud BANG sounding as the bullet was fired. It collided with the metal, the chain falling to the floor and leaving the blond semi-free from his restraints. Like Carl had said before, he had zero intentions of removing them until he knew he could trust him. Maybe it’d be before they reached Alexandria, maybe it’d be after. He and his group had gotten screwed over one too many times by not taking the proper precautions, and he knew better now. Just in case of a surprise attack, Carl held his gun out, but soon went for the chain and picked it up with his free hand. “Look, I don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve really moved, but your mom isn’t far from here. She probably heard the gun-shot, and it’s possible that walkers did too. If we’re gonna go, we gotta go now,” he explained, backing up with the chain and giving a gentle tug on it.
In the distance, after only just emerging from the shack, Carl could already hear the desperate cries of the other’s mother. “Kyle?!” She called, her voice echoing within the forest, causing the brunet to inwardly cringe. It was stupid to be yelling. She was just going to draw unwanted attention to herself and end up having to deal with a hoard of walkers on her tail. Alas, if Kyle was her son, he supposed he could understand where the panic came from–not that it really made sense to him. If she really cared about him, why lock him up like he was no more than some sort of pet to her? It was twisted and unsettling, similar to the very feeling he’d got while at Terminus. People eating people. Desperate times called for desperate measures, but that was just wrong. They’d treat you like friends, like family, and then send you off to be slaughtered so they could eat you. It was like something straight out of a horror film.
“C’mon,” Carl urged Kyle, tugging a little harder on the chain while his gaze was cast towards the trees where the woman had disappeared into a few minutes ago. She was getting closer. Dammit. Quickly, turning his attention back to Kyle, Carl held both the chain and the gun in one hand before he offered him his other one. He was trying to help him, a single, reassuring nod of his head given to let Kyle know that it was okay. He just wanted to help him up, probably even support him if he couldn’t walk that well. He seemed to be pretty awkward on his legs earlier, or maybe it was simply because he’d caught him off guard and had caused him to stumble.
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