Chapter Text
His ears rang loudly, His eyes were bloodshot and watery with exhaustion, and he couldn’t stop his body from shaking and swaying in his spot. Carl could see his dad, Daryl and Michonne standing a few feet away from him arms raised in the same manner his were. Guns pointed at them from every angle, the wrong move would mean bullets ripping through flesh. It was Suffocation. The events of the past few weeks seemed to pile up heavily on his chest threatening to suffocate him if he didn’t escape them. Everytime he thought things couldn't get worse they did. His mom, the prison, Judith, the claimers and now terminus. There was no way he thought, no way things could get worse than this.
“Go to your left. the train car.” Over the ringing in his ears he hears the leader yell towards his father a smug grin plastered on his face. “You do what we say the boy goes with you. Anything else he dies and you end up in there anyway.” his body tenses up at Gareth's words, and even with his bloodshot and blurry eyes he can see the three adults across from him do the same. Slowly his dad walks towards the large train car, looking at Carl the whole time.
“Now the archer.” Gareth calls out his voice monotone with boredom, Daryl follows his dads lead, hands still in the air, head hung low. “Now the samurai” she walks towards the door, even with his bloodshot and blurry eyes he can see the anger seeping through her features as she does. Gareth doesn’t speak for a moment letting the four of them revel in the situation.
“Stand at the door. Then ringleader, archer, samurai walk in, in that order” Gareth says walking slowly towards Carl until he's standing right behind him, so close that he can feel the warmth on his back radiating from the terminus leader.
None of the adults go to move, instead his dad turns his head towards them, his eyes filled with anger, the same anger Carl had seen the night before. “My son” he yells, voice horse and filled with venom. He can all but see Gareth's smug smile return to his face as he screams back to his father, his ears ringing louder as he does. “Ringleader open the door and go in”
Once again they make no move to go in, his dad turns more towards the two of them, his voice louder and angrier as he screams “I’ll go in with my son”. Gareths silent again, and for a moment he thinks Gareth will let him join them. Instead of gesturing for Carl to join him or yelling at him to do so, he feels cold metal press against his temple. Carl almost drops his hands in surprise but regains his posture as the gun presses harder into his skull.
“Don't make us kill him now.” the gun presses further into his temple making his already weak knees feel even weaker. His dad falters for a moment giving Carl one last pained look before dropping his head like Daryl and leading the adults into the train car. The men with guns point at the three and Carl knows if they were to try anything they would get shot, he knows that if he were to try anything he would get shot. They were trapped with nothing they could do. The thought makes Carl's chest feel heavy and it seems to tighten more as the men with guns quickly close his family in the train car. Before Carl can dwell on his thoughts for longer gareth gestures him to drop his arms, as he does gareth grabs his face covering his mouth tightly. Dragging the gun from his temple down his cheek and neck before eventually leaving his body entirely. He can smell the copper of blood and dirt staining his hands. The smell and drag of the gun bring back the weight of fear in his stomach from the night before. Face down in the dirt, hands dragging across his neck and back, towards his belt buckle. The sounds of struggling and laughing, Tears running down his face. He wants to wretch out of the older man's arms and follow his family into the train car. Death is certainly a kinder fate than what's planned for them, he's sure. But with Gareth's tight grip on his mouth and the gun still against his temple, he knows it would be stupid to try and escape now.
“Watch this” gareth says suddenly, lifting his hand with the gun to aim it at the floor in front of them. He shoots the ground instantaneity ,his ears are filled with the sound of fists banging on train car metal and screaming pleads. Gareth laughs softly as the gun is lowered. “They think you're dead now” he whispers into his ear.
“This is your fault ringleader” he yells, firing one more shot at the ground in front of them. Carl struggles against his hand, attempting to open his mouth. let them know he was okay. but Gareth's hand tightens against his mouth pressing the gun into his side. Carl can feel tears begin to form in his eyes. Frustrated and angry at the situation they had found themselves in. He hoped that the false gunshots didn’t trick his family like Gareth intended but the screaming and banging on the inside of the train car didn’t help the thought.
Gareth turns him around and begins walking Carl to a large metal door, hand still held tightly over his mouth. The gun is lifted for a brief second as the leader gestures to another member of the terminus. The door opens with a loud creak and the gun is returned to his head and as Gareth walks them into the building the banging of hands on metal fades away.
The door closes behind them as Gareth forces his face forward, as he does Carl swears he almost throws up into the older man's hand. It's cold and dark in the room but Carl can see meat hanging from the ceiling not just any meat, he sees arms, legs, whole thighs hanging from the ceiling, being cut by men in bloodied aprons, being put through grinders. Carl ignores the cool gun pressed against his head and squirms against the older man's grips. He was wrong, Carl was completely and utterly wrong. He thought before was the worst it could get, no this is the worst. Before his existential crisis can progress, Gareths continues walking them through the meat locker, terminus men and women waving and smiling at him as if they weren't cutting up human beings. He walks them through another door taking his hand off his mouth but keeping the gun pressed into his side.
“James, put this one in D, and then tomorrow make sure he's part of the roundup?” a taller skinner man with greasy hair comes into view. Wiping off a bloody knife onto his apron. He gives Carl a quick glance before turning his attention back to Gareth.
“Tomorrow, Its four from A and four from D right”
“Yeah just make sure this kid” the gun slides from his side to his back as Gareth pushes him towards the taller man. “Is one of the ones from D.” The man walks towards Carl grabbing his shoulder and pulling him away from Gareth, walking them through another door.
That's what they're going to do to us, to all of us. He thinks desperately.
Carl sighing stomps on the man's foot as hard as he can muster, taking his moment of surprise to wrench from his arms and duck under him. Letting his flannel over shirt fall to the ground as the man tangles his fingers in it. With voices behind him he runs as fast as he possibly can to a large wood door opposite of where the man was taking him.