#gc:mason

[charliexhall]

@mascncarter

It’s time to move on and it’s a feeling Charlie’s forgotten. The only familiar notion is the question of where - because there isn’t a particular destination for her anymore. Her childhood home had been the goal, convinced she would find signs of life inside. But when she finally got there, she didn’t find her family waiting for her, surviving boarded up in their house. Her father was missing. There wasn’t a sign of her brother, Michael. And the first thing she noticed was Shane lying motionless on the carpet of the living room. The next was her mother’s bloodied mouth gnawing at his stomach.

The caravan feels odd to her, unaccustomed these days to traveling in packs and it makes her feel exposed. Because if there’s safety in numbers, the parade of cars makes her feel like a bullseye is painted on her back - far from invisible. Paranoia might be the sole cause but she’s witnessed enough while scouting out the trail back to her hometown to know not every group is like this one. Most don’t seem as kind, alerting the world with war cries and rallying calls, of strange promises of safety for things she wasn’t willing to give up.

Charlie stares at the pick up truck she’ll be riding in, grateful at least that she wouldn’t have to walk to their next destination and curious if she’ll ever find a vehicle of her own to cart around in. But the solitude of that sounds overbearing and she’ll gladly ride in cars with strangers to give her muscles a break. With a heavy sigh to prepare herself for the weight of the large container, the redhead mumbles a frustration under her breath before reaching for it, ready to be away from the base as quickly as they can.