Me?

New chapter is live.

Settle in, take your time, and let's see what waits in the dark 🖤

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After giving Carl his instructions, Rick turned and left.

Evan watched him take Lori by the hand. Lori followed, but she kept looking back every few steps. Evan ruffled Carl's hair and turned his attention elsewhere.

Someone was staring at him without even trying to hide it.

Shane stood under a tree not far away, hands on his hips, eyes locked on Evan. When he saw Evan casually tousle Carl's soft hair, his jaw tightened hard enough to make the muscles stand out along both sides of his face.

That was exactly the reaction Evan wanted.

"Still think I can't get to you?"

Shane could be ruthless with almost anyone, even himself. But as long as Lori and Carl existed, he had a weakness that could not be buried.

"Getting worked up already?" Evan murmured. "We're barely getting started."

Carl lifted his head beside him, curious.

"Evan? What's getting started?"

The teasing look on Evan's face vanished at once. His hand shifted from ruffling Carl's hair to a light tap on the top of the boy's head.

"Ow." Carl grabbed his head.

"I said we're going to be late if we don't move."

"Come on. Training starts now."

Evan turned and led Carl toward the fire truck.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, Evan unlocked the passenger door. Carl stepped carefully up the three metal steps and pulled himself into the cab.

Only after the door shut with a heavy click did Carl let out a long breath.

Evan saw all of it and shook his head inwardly.

Carl was still too sheltered.

Rick's son should not have been this fragile. Lori had held him back for too long. If the old story had not taken Lori from him so early, Carl might have stayed wrapped in that protection until it smothered the part of him that needed to grow.

A child did not become strong by being locked away from the world that wanted to eat him.

Evan buckled Carl's seat belt, gripped the wheel, and said, "Let's go."

The fire truck pulled away.

Behind them, Shane watched it leave, paced two angry steps, and kicked the tree trunk hard enough to shake rainwater from the leaves.

His hand drifted toward his pistol. His pinky brushed the pistol's hammer twice, almost without his permission, while anger rolled through him.

"Shane," Lori said from behind him. "They're starting training back at camp."

She did not quite meet his eyes. After saying it, she hurried back toward the others.

Rick was still there.

Shane bit the inside of his lower lip and nodded once. His gaze followed the fire truck until it disappeared.

Then he let it go.

Otis had not died because of Carl in this version of the story. Shane had not crossed that last line yet. The darker thing inside him had not been fully set free.

With his hair still grown out and his temper still chained, Shane Walsh remained Rick's best friend and one of the strongest pillars the camp had.

There was another reason, too.

Shane did not know whether he could actually put Evan down, gun or no gun.

If the first shot failed, what came next?

Shane looked toward Lori's retreating back and thought for a long time before finally forcing everything down.

Inside the fire truck, Carl swayed slightly with the movement of the cab.

His eyes were bright with curiosity as he looked out at everything they passed. This was the first time he had gone this far from camp without Rick or Lori beside him.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

There was dependence in his voice, but a thin line of rebellion hid under it.

Evan kept one hand on the wheel and glanced at him.

"You'll know when we get there. Put this on first."

He reached into his pack and tossed Carl a full set of wooden armor.

The gear had been built through the system: face guard, chest piece, leg guards, boots, all of it sized for Carl.

Carl ran his fingers over the grain. "Why is it made of wood?"

"Wood is tough, light, easy to find, and easy to work with," Evan said without blinking. "Good fit for you."

The truth was simpler. Evan could only craft wooden armor right now.

For Carl, though, it would be enough.

Half an hour later, the fire truck rolled into the small town east of Greene Farm.

When the engine finally went quiet, Carl sat there in full wooden armor and looked at Evan, waiting for the training plan.

Rick's instructions were still clear in his head.

Carl was old enough to push back, but his trust in Rick ran deeper than anything else.

For now, that trust had been handed to Evan.

"Carl," Evan said after a moment, "do you know the first thing a person needs to learn before he kills his first walker?"

He did not call Carl a kid. To Carl, that would have sounded like an insult.

"Better aim?" Carl guessed, tilting his head.

He had seen the others getting ready for firearm drills before they left.

Evan shook his head. He wanted more from Carl than basic shooting.

Other people could start with guns.

Carl could not.

"Evasion and endurance," Evan said. "Out here, we won't always be somewhere safe. Sometimes we'll have to move through walkers, around them, between them, while everything in your head is screaming."

"You need to look straight at what they are, forget what they could do to you for a few seconds, and move."

"Walkers don't get tired. They don't stop being hungry. Against something like that, stamina matters."

"For someone who hasn't killed one yet, the first lesson is usually how not to get caught."

"Oh."

Carl sounded disappointed.

Evan let out a quiet laugh. The boy wanted more already.

He nudged Carl's shoulder.

"All right. Get out."

"From here, you're going to make your way east through town. When you reach the far side, turn around and come back."

"I won't help you. You need to return to this exact spot safely. That's your first day's training."

Carl went stiff inside the wooden armor.

He turned slowly, and when he saw Evan's serious expression, disbelief filled his eyes.

"Evan... you want me to cross a street full of walkers, reach the end, and then come all the way back?"

Carl looked as if every part of his face was asking the same question.

If Evan had owned a camera, he would have taken a picture right then.

One day, when Carl was grown, Evan could show him exactly what his first real trial had looked like.

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