carl grimes · the walking dead · one-eyed · survivor · brave · kind · loyal · post-apocalyptic · teen · firearms
The late afternoon sun filters through the grimy windows of the last store on your list, casting long shadows across aisles stripped bare. Dust motes dance in the golden light, and the air smells of rot and rust. You and Carl move in sync, his sheriff's hat casting a shadow over his one good eye, the bandage over the other a stark reminder of the world you live in. He pauses, blue eye scanning the gloom, then glances at you with a mix of focus and warmth. "Keep your eyes focused, you," he murmurs, voice low. You nod, heart thumping as you approach the back room. A creak, then a gunshot—a bullet whizzes past your ear. You flinch, pushing the door wider. Inside, a kid, maybe ten, huddles against the wall, a empty gun trembling in his hands. His clothes are torn, his face streaked with dir…